Beloved Friends,
What a difference a song makes.
It was a cold night in Philadelphia in 1985 when I decided to go hear a folksinger named Fred Small. I don’t remember too much about the performance, other than a song he sang near the end of the evening, called Willie’s Song. Something about the words of the refrain jumped inside of me and found a home. Then years later, as an ordained priest in the Episcopal church I began singing those words at the time of the final blessing. I carried that practice to Trinity 6 years ago and every Sunday since (and other times as well), we have learned to sing that song to each other. These words, sung together in community have become for me a palpable expression of God’s love.
May the rain fall off your shoulders when you’re caught in a storm
When the frost comes a-calling may it find you safe and warm
May your place be set, may your promises be kept,
May you never forget that you are loved.
Last week I announced I will be leaving Trinity September 15th. I have accepted a call serving the larger church at the Episcopal Church Pension Group in New York City leading a division of training and faculty management for church-wide programs. And while this new call feels like the very best right next step for me vocationally, it is heartbreaking to have to say goodbye to this community. Cliché as it may be, a piece of my heart will stay here with you always. What God has done with and through us is nothing short of miraculous and nothing will ever fade the vibrancy of this time.
I will be leaving at a high point, at a time when we are growing in faith, community engagement, membership, formation, not to mention seeing pieces of our 2030 Vision come true, including a redesigned and restored plaza and a reimagined chapel. We have also grown our staff and the leadership in the congregation to reflect a new level of commitment and engagement. So, as I prepare to step away, I do so knowing deep in my heart the best is yet to come for Trinity!
Through and with you I have grown, making mistakes, stumbling through my own short-sightedness and impatience at times, and all the while learning more and more about what it means to stay true to living lives less about ourselves and more about emulating what generous love can look like through our collective lives and actions; thank you.
You have honored me deeply and profoundly with each story you have shared; you have invited me into what Celtic spirituality calls the “thin places” in our lives- those times when the distinctions between secular and sacred, holy and mundane are beautifully blurred; you have trusted me with the fragile, exquisite, sometimes excruciating truth of your lives-and for all of it I offer a deep bow of gratitude. For the things I have said and done that have fallen short of what you needed, I ask for forgiveness. For the things that I will be blamed for or given any credit in the days ahead, I ask they all be held lightly trusting the goodness of my heart’s intent.
Part of the transition of clergy leadership in a parish requires a new kind of focus and effort from the current vestry. Our 9-member elected leadership team is well equipped for the road ahead. This is one of the finest group of leaders I have ever worked with, and they have built a strong foundation to draw upon at a time such as this. To that end, starting next week, I am turning this weekly blog post over to them as one of many platforms they will be able to use to keep you updated about the transition. Please join me in support of them and hold them in your prayers as they tend to this sacred task.
I look forward to time with many of you between now and when I leave mid-September. In the meantime, please come home this Sunday either for Trinity@Home (at 9:00 or anytime thereafter) or Trinity@316 (at 10:00 in person) when we will become the Body of Christ once more to remember whose we are and how we are called to be God’s love in the world.
And may you never forget that you are loved,
Lisa