Responding to the Epiphany Storming of our Capitol

Responding to the Epiphany Storming of our Capitol

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea.”—Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

It is still painful to think about and respond to events at our Capitol on Epiphany, January 6th, 2021. First, it was disbelief that it was happening in the country we so love.

I go to the safest place in our house, our bedroom, and lie down. Then, the fear that lives in my body about having the COVID-19 virus before we can get the vaccine transfers to the stability and safety of our country. A group of men and women without masks carrying metal pipes, chemical irritants, and other weapons are breaking windows and doors to enter the sacred halls of our country, where our Congress is meeting to certify the presidential election.

All the tasks ahead of me for the day have lost energy. My entire energy goes to fear. Our daughter, who has been in tears, soon calls. We share the news. We are powerless. We both decide to have some soul food while we try to re-center. Popcorn.

 Will our government be overturned and taken over by people like those we see on television? They tell reporters this is only the beginning. They will be back. I see anger and fear on their faces. We both share fear. They mirror my fear.

Preparing for the Epiphany service that night slows down my fear. First, I sit quietly in St. Mark’s for over an hour before the service. Then, slowly, I become less anxious. I honestly believe the prayers of the many people who have worshiped there in the past calm my soul. I have put myself in a place where many before me have gone to meet God. Their prayers and their love begin to heal me.

Family Systems dynamics teach us that if we can maintain a state of having the least anxiety during any conflict in a relationship with others or be a non-anxious presence, we will contribute to keeping any tensions from growing and eventually solve the difficulty. Unfortunately, I know few people who can remain non-anxious, for it is not a human trait. Staying less anxious, however, is a real possibility.

With Grace, we may be the least anxious presence in a situation. In that case, we can keep the arteries in our body from tightening up, taking minutes or weeks off our lifespan, pushing us to become more fearful, maybe even violent.

Believe we can go to the place inside or outside our body, where an inner and outer presence leads us to become calmer. There we can become a vessel to become part of the relationship or situation that can solve any problems we encounter.

 This is my only offering from that day. Go literally or figuratively to a place of healing in the past, where you have met God, and perhaps where so many have done the same before. Sit, just sit, and be enveloped by a presence that goes by the name of love.

It may not be in a place of worship. It may be by the sea where the waves’ rhythm or the sea’s stillness slows down our anxious hearts. It may be a walk where the trees photosynthesize our energy back to love, back to a presence attributed to Julian of Norwich where “all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

So, we search for our sacred space, where we may find the strength to meet the day, reach out to others, and become the less anxious presence who can hold together in love the people of our family, our community, and our country.

Epiphany Remembered and Going Forward

Epiphany remembered

“Arise, shine; for your light has come,

and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.”—Isaiah 60:1.

John Harmon Bishop Elect as 14th Bishop of Arkansas, ordained and consecrated today

Epiphany, the revelation, the manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles-us, you, and me. Christ is manifested to me almost sensuously at Epiphany. It first happened in the mid-fifties when I attended my first Episcopal service, the Epiphany Feast of Lights. I was around eleven and went to the small Virginia church in my hometown with a boyfriend and his family. I still remember the unfamiliar liturgy, the candlelight, and the haunting mystic melodies.  As we walked out of the small-town church on that bitterly cold January night, carrying our candles, we were surprised by the winter’s first snow.  I knew that night God spoke most clearly to me through this tradition. 

 A decade later, I again encountered the beauty of the Feast of Lights at St. Mary’s Cathedral in Memphis, with their choral procession of the costumed wise men bearing their splendid gifts. Soon, we were able to bring the service to Little Rock. 

 Here in Little Rock at St. Mark’s, we again usually experience Epiphany’s haunting call at their evening service at 6:30 on January 6th. The wise men will visit us again. Our bishop often celebrates, and there frequently is a guest preacher. Recently, it was the minister of Pulaski Heights United Methodist Church, Dr. John Robbins. There will be a choir and candlelight recessional out of the church into the dark night, which is always breathtaking.  I watch the beautiful, often familiar faces of those walking ahead of me. Their expressions seem to ask, “What will we encounter next in the night? Will this light be enough for me to see?” This service empowers us to think about carrying our small candle out into the world.  As the candlelight service concludes, we realize we can only see our path because of the light from so many others before, beside, and behind us.

The service should also be available online through St. Mark’s Facebook page.

I encourage those at home to have a candle by you during the service. The candle will remind all of us of Christ, the light of the world, still reaching out to us at both good and challenging times.

I would love to hear what new epiphanies come to you during this epiphany season that is so different. As the angel told the wise men in a dream, “We will be going home by a different road.”

May this new year be full of many epiphanies on new roads for you and those you love.

This year at Saint Mark’s, the wise men will appear at the Sunday service at 10:30 on January 7th. We will not have the usual Epiphany service on January 6th, due to the ordination and consecration of John Harmon as the next bishop of Arkansas on the Feast Day of Epiphany. This will also be a beautiful service. Instead, we welcome prayers for him and our diocese on that day especially.

Ed Seward

Paying it Forward on Twelfth Day Christmas

Paying it Forward on Twelth Day Christmas

“It is important that we learn humility, which says there was someone else before me who paid for me. My responsibility is to prepare myself so that I can pay for someone else who is yet to come.”—Maya Angelou

This picture includes a few of our many friends who have died this past year that we can barely talk about and want to remember and honor.

On this last day of Christmas, I often remember friends who have died.

I always remember Sylvia, who died many years ago and whom I dearly loved. We worked together early in my ministry at St. Margaret’s. She taught me about servant leadership. She was a single mom, a nurse, and a caregiver like none other. She was a visitor from St. Margaret’s to the sick to say prayers. However, she became more like a parish nurse, advocating in the hospital for the medical condition of those with whom she said prayers. Sylvia would go to nursing stations and let anyone know what “her patients” needed.

We started a 12-step group at our church, which lasted only four months. Sylvia was one of the first to come to it, and was in recovery for the rest of her life. We always believed we started it just for her, and never regretted any effort we put into it.

Sylvia loved us, but more than us, she loved her grandchildren, whom she talked about almost constantly. 

She died too early while her grandchildren were still young. Somehow, I stay connected to her family and know a little about her oldest granddaughter. I intermittently write to Darcy and tell her some stories about her grandmother, but I especially tell her how much Sylvia loved and adored her. I honestly believe Sylvia has somehow been “suggesting” that I do this the way she made “suggestions” so well in her physical life. This is precisely what she would tell me to do if she were physically beside me.

Sylvia wants her grandchildren, Jack and Darcy, to know how much they were and are still loved. In turn, Sylvia reminds us that we can do the same. When I remember Sylvia’s untimely death, I am moved to call, text, email, or visit my own grandchildren, as I remember what a privilege it is to let them know they are loved.

This was my Christmas present this year from Sylvia, and for many years to come.

I am learning that these other friends who have recently died have also left gifts that I am to share with others. Maybe I can talk about them next year without weeping all over this paper. It takes time, prayer, and talking to other friends to process the death of a loved one. Slowly, gifts emerge that call us to pay their love forward.

Sylvia