I love this tiny hand touching the heart of things. I can almost imagine the pavement softening touched by these fingers.

It made me think of how the walls of congregations have become more porous in these pandemic times.

Weekly, and sometimes more than weekly, we meet online where so many who are not able or inclined to come to a sturdy walled building join in. Our shared prayers and reflections gather and spread from us like the changed light of the candle at the end of our worship.

I love this. Still, I know it is easy to imagine that this gathering arises from some anonymous entity associated with Facebook and not from the ministry of a living, breathing group of people who have chosen to come together in intentional ways and so have particular responsibilities to sustain a place and a minister and the work of care and justice in the world around them. It’s easy when we’re not together in person, to touch, and then forget to support this work with our donations of money. These donations are not the heart – they are a response.

Some in our community will have had their ability to contribute financially eroded by the circumstances that closures and physical distancing have created. No one should not have to fret about this. Some may perhaps be able to dig a bit deeper. This has been made easier in our congregation* by introducing e-transfer to our usual repertoire of offering plates and envelopes. Some congregations are using PAR or Canada Helps. All these are vehicles for response to the community flowing together through newly porous walls.

There’s a feeling hard to describe as I prepare to greet this community whether for a Sunday morning worship, a Tuesday evening vigil, or Holy Week prayers. My heart speeds up and then it slows and warms. Who are we and what might we become?

We are together
touching the heart.
Thanks be to God.