Dear Members, Friends, Siblings, All,

Last week, a friend asked, “What’s the first thing you will do when you are no longer at Central?” Oh. Well. “Um, I will take piano lessons,” was my reply. This morning, however, it became clear piano lessons will more likely be the second, third or even fourth thing I do when I am no longer at Central.

The very first thing I will do is miss you. I will miss the people I work with every day. Miss gathering for worship and fellowship, even zoomies. Miss the conversations by (endless) email and the shared interest and purpose of this congregation. Miss the children. Miss the belonging to this living body of followers of Jesus. Sigh.

And, oh, yes, I will grieve. I must grieve.

Of course, I am anticipating the grief in the same way I anticipate other and all anxieties. Getting ready for it? Perhaps. But mostly not looking forward to it or, more precisely, practicing what I know so well how to do.

Don’t you think the Disciples might have been in a similar emotional soup in our Gospel reading for Sunday is John 14:1-14? Jesus is preparing them for the time when he is no longer present with them in the body. (Not comparing my own, humble self to Jesus, to be sure.) Their “congregation” would be without him and he without them. There had to be some grief there. That’s probably why I have so often preached funerals from this passage, a moment when sadness and fear of what is not known are ambient. That’s also why the resurrection accounts so often include, “Fear not.”

“In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places…” (14:2) There is an invitation here that has not occurred to me before:

In that future place where there is so much mystery, there are oh, so many possibilities. Just use your imaginations and all that we’ve practiced together.

Ok, I will try my best. You mean, like improv?

On Sunday—can this be May already?—we will come together for a Service of Word and Table, as is our custom on first Sundays. Streamers, be prepared with your bread and cup in whatever form that takes chez vous. (Milk and s’mores has been suggested by a young friend.) Those of us who can get to the face-to-face will gather around the table of welcome and belonging with grape juice and gluten free bread. We will all be doing what Jesus did. Practicing. Again.

Here’s hoping to see or be seen in your company, one more time.

Love and hugs,

Rev. Liz