Hello Church family,
John Jay here, reporting from a week of coughing and napping and so much water drinking. In case you missed it, Corrie and I finally got sick with Covid. As my brain begins to function again (barely, and only for a few minutes before I need to rest), I want to share a couple of thoughts. I woke up last Sunday prepared to preach on the kenosis passage from Philippians 2, but felt a little off. Corrie had what we thought was a common cold (so many negative Covid tests), and I thought I might have caught the same. After two and a half years of not getting Covid, I was sure that Corrie and I were immune from this novel virus. Looking back to before I got sick, it is comical the number of delusions I was living under.
“I will probably never get Covid. Ha!”
Or
“Maybe I have already gotten Covid, only my body is so powerful that the virus didn’t make a dent. Ha!”
Or
“If I do get Covid, I’ll have such a mild case that I will use the time in isolation to catch up on the hundreds of tasks that I have on the back-burner. Ha!”
Fifteen minutes after I swabbed my nose, I joined the millions of people who have been reminded just how fragile we really are. For the last week I have been on a physical and emotional rollercoaster, doing my best to sit still and learn whatever lessons I could from the pain and inconvenience. Like many of you, I had an emotional breakdown a couple of days in, crying about everything and nothing. Like many of you, I found new television shows to love (Tartakovsky’s Primal) and books to pretend to read (When We Cease to Understand the World). I was fortunate to get to isolate with Corrie since she has been sick with Covid, too. We didn’t turn on one another (too much 😬), which is common when stuck in close quarters and feeling vulnerable. We are finally on the mend, although the fatigue comes in waves to remind us that recovery is a long road.
Thank you to all of the staff for stepping in on Sunday to fill in all kinds of gaps in my absence. And thanks to Ken Fong for preaching this coming Sunday. He wisely recommended I not try to prep a sermon in my mental state. Plus, there was no guarantee I would be well enough to preach come Sunday. So I will rest one more Sunday and hopefully be back in full swing September 4th.
I had some stuff I wanted to share about Philippians 2 and kenosis, undoubtedly genius content I was too sick to deliver. I have tried to excavate that sermon for any leftovers to give to you all, but again my brain lets me down. Most of that sermon I never preached slipped out with my vigor. I have been reminded of my limits, returning to the neediness of being human. That neediness is really what kenosis is all about, the self-emptying of Christ Paul references in the letter to the church in Philippi. I would have said something like that on Sunday, only with drawings and references to obscure Greek and Hebrew words. As I sat still and listened to the liturgy you all created together in my absence, I was struck by how kenosis and generosity work together. Finding yourself empty is an invitation to receive from a source beyond the self. I have been filled by the blessing of our community. I have nothing to share about Philippians that wasn’t already shared by you all. As the proverb goes, it is in the shelter of one another that the people live.
When I return on September 4th, we will be turning our focus to the book of Ecclesiastes, one of the weirdest books in the whole Bible. Most of my study time has been under the influence of NyQuil, but even when fully sober, Ecclesiastes is like staring at a trick mirror. I can’t wait to see you all and share what I am learning.
Thanks for all the prayers, for the food deliveries and check ins. I am always so grateful for this church community, and being on the receiving end of your generosity is really special. Also a big thank you to our kids Judah and Ruthie who have been present to their parents with such care and responsibility. And thanks to Lindsay for editing this letter so it makes sense! My brain is starting to go foggy again, so let me sign off with a reminder that I would be…
Less without you,
Pastor John Jay