Letter to the Church
/A year ago, during the first months of the pandemic, I filmed a video for my parish. A love letter really. To encourage believers and to remind myself of what was true and real.
I shared that even in the midst of isolation I hadn’t lost my joy. That our faith had been preparing us for this very circumstance. That it is easy to have joy when life seems stable and under control, but it is quite another thing to find joy in chaos and isolation.
I want you to know I still have not lost my joy. I find I need so very little now to be entertained, comforted, content. I have become very selective about what images and information I allow into my mind, heart, and home. I am beginning to understand what St. Paul meant when he wrote “I have learned to be content with whatever I have.”
I have noticed there are fewer to share this joy and contentment with. In fact, I’ve received a lot of push back. Certainly, from those who do not share my faith but most notably from those in my faith communities. They’d like it better were I not bold and peaceful and joyful. They’d rather I was fearful and outraged and miserable.
These brothers and sisters in Christ point me towards politics or media or culture to find truth, instead of Jesus, “the perfecter of my faith.” When they do use His words, they use them as weapons to divide, conquer and hurt.
But I believe in things visible and invisible. I believe that when we are disconnected from our communities of faith, from the Eucharist itself, we create a god in our own image. This god loves all the people and things we love and hates all the things that we hate. Our faith become shallow and brittle and we turn against the very people we are mystically connected to and are to love.
I refuse to do this. I refuse to let Satan elbow into my family, my life and my church. I am holding firm, clinging close to Christ and His truth. I believe in the healing and saving power of Christ alone. And that now more than ever we need to bear that Light.
As we come together again, I believe we will be smaller but stronger. And I am not going anywhere.