Who Are We?

Dear Friends,

I suspect it will surprise some of you to hear this, but, when I get really honest about things, I am the sort of person who struggles hard with all kinds of self-doubt. I know I probably put on a good show, at least on Sunday morning. But that nagging voice inside me, raging with questions and sneers and reminders of failures from days (week, months, years) past, is often hanging around, ready to pounce.

I'm not sure why that's the case, and I know I'm not alone in those feelings, but I've learned over time to live with them and get to the other side of them. And I know that they are part of the reason that questions of identity have been central for me for as long as I can remember. When you're riddled with self-doubt the question, "Who am I, really?" becomes a very important one.

And I've answered it in all kinds of ways. I could give you a litany of identities I tried on from my childhood: the smart boy in the elementary school class, a zealous religious kid, a teenager who didn't "really listen to the stuff on the radio" (because he was much cooler than all that), a guitarist in a punk band, a book worm, a runner, and all kinds of other things in between. And I don't want to dismiss any of that. All of those identities carry a little of who I am in them.

But where I've learned most about who I am is in the gathered worship of the church. I mean that; I'm not just saying it because I'm the priest. Whether it was the Church of Christ I grew up in where the acapella hymns felt like they were about to lift the roof off of the building, "Sing the wondrous love of Jesus/Sing his glory and his grace;" the Baptist Church where I first heard that grace preached from a pulpit; or the Episcopal Church where I came to love the rhythms of the liturgy and saw grace enacted in prayer and praise and sacramental sharing, I have learned over the course of my life that I am fundamentally not some isolated individual floating on his own, who needs to figure out who he is.

I am a small part of a community of disciples of Jesus that stretches into the past and future and around the globe. I am a part of the church. That's the core of who I am. That's the core of my identity. And the chance to gather to worship with the church is the place I remember and relearn that identity week by week.

I am thankful, of course, that in this time of pandemic we're able to offer that worship via live stream technology—even though technology always has its issues. But I'm also very thankful that we are continuing to worship in-person. As I have shared with those of you who have asked, I have no intention of allowing that to stop. This is not to say that we should be foolish in how we gather! We'll continue to take precautions. We'll adapt as we need to, and it is advisable for those most at risk from COVID to weigh carefully the risks of gathering for corporate worship. But corporate worship is our first call as Christians. So we will worship.

And, as I announced on Sunday, the vestry, staff, and I have made the decision to maintain the worship schedule of July and August going into the fall. Our services will stay at 7:30 and 10:30 as we continue to regather and continue to rebuild our numbers for worship.

One of the joys of this new rhythm of worship has been the presence of children in both of our services. It is in worship with their friends, their parents, and their elders that they will learn who they are—members of this community, the church. They are learning the calls and responses of the liturgy. They are learning the love and provision of Jesus in the bread and wine. They are learning the hymns of faith that will sustain them in ways they won't even realize. It matters that children worship with us. It matters that we worship with children. It matters that we learn to be a community of disciples together.

But still, I know that this isn't ideal for everyone. I recognize that it asks us to embrace new rhythms on Sunday mornings. And I understand that some would desire nothing more than to return to our old schedule. I'd just ask, if there's any way I can be helpful to you, perhaps by providing the context or logistics involved in this decision or in any other way, please let me know. I am more than willing to talk through all of that with any of you.

And then, stay engaged. If you are willing to be at in-person services, come. If you are not comfortable with that at this juncture, please stay tuned in online. Because worship is the thing that teaches us who we are at our core. We are a community of Jesus's disciples. A community called to worship, and give, and serve, and love—together.

God Bless,
Fr. Quinn+