Worship Service – October 18, 2020

Hope in a Time of Pandemic

A Peace-sourced Poem created by Pamela Mittlefehldt

Adapted by Charlotte Frantz
Read by John Pokrzywinski, Gudrun Witrak, Sara Olson Dean, Geof Witrak, and Gary Boelhower

 

Introductory statement (read by Charlotte)

“Hope in a Time of Pandemic” is a community-sourced poem. 

The people of Peace church were asked to respond to the phrase:  “What I am learning about hope in a time of pandemic.”  Over forty people shared their thoughts.  It was such an outpouring of courage, longing, grit, sadness, faith, humor, vulnerability, gratitude,  and yes, hope.  Reading each response was truly a blessing and a gift.  It was an honor to weave the images, words, and reflections that were shared into the following tapestry.        

        –Pamela Mittlefehldt

Voice 1,  John Pokrzywinski
Voice 2,  Gudrun Witrak
 Voice 3,  Sara Olson Dean
 Voice 4,  Geof Witrak
 Voice 5,   Gary Boelhower

Voice 1:   What I have learned about hope in this time of pandemic is this:

Voice 2:  I am a carrier.

Voice 3:  I am a carrier

Voice 4:  I am a carrier.

Voice 5:  I am a carrier, too.  Hope is infectious.

Voice 1:  I have always known I was a prisoner of hope.

Voice 5:  Now I am a prisoner with hope—

Voice 3:  I am open to the lessons I still need to learn.

Voice 2:  Hope is a spectrum, a kaleidoscope, an enormous game of Hide and Seek,
taking you from room to room, looking for anything to 
help ease the pain of isolation and loneliness.

Voice 4:  Hope can be fleeting, 
but when it appears,
your spirit regains its footing,
if only for minutes at a time.

Voice 1:  Hope is learning to live with
the certainty of uncertainty.

Voice 2:  The certainty

Voice 3:  of Uncertainty.

Voice 4:  Hope doesn’t leave us when we are confused, unsure, or restricted.

Voice 5:  As we venture into the Unknown, Unprecedented, Uncertain—hope holds our hand.  Hope journeys with us.

Voice 2:  Sometimes at night, when you feel all the weight of the world upon you,
you just know the soon-to-rise morning sun will lift it from you.

Voice 4:  Sunset:  Hope for the new day coming.

Voice 3:  Sunrise:  Faith, for the new day arriving.   

Voice 5:  Hope is the soul factor that gets you to the next day.

Voice 1:  All we really have is hope.

Voice 3:   “A person can live days without food, hours without water, minutes without air, but cannot live at all without hope.” (Larry Long)

Voice 2:  Hope is like spring—when the buds appear, when flowers start to give us their beauty, when the birds return to begin their new life, reminding us that we are in a precious life cycle.

Voice 4:  We see hope in the red buds of the creaky maple trees in our backyard and the dandelions that call our front yard home.

Voice 1:  Hope is in the planting of a tree.

Voice 2:  Hope is knowing that broken off succulent leaves can sprout roots in water.

Voice 3:  Hope is planting old seeds from our life in Vermont.
Some come up, some don’t, but we keep planting, waiting, hoping.

Voice 4:  Hope is in compost, yesterday’s meals providing nutrients for today’s plants.

Voice 5:  Hope is in the forest, in forest bathing:  to breathe and be present with the moment of peace.  

Voice 3:  As I write, our windows are open, the birds are singing, the Black cap Chickadee, sparrows, and a Robin red breast.

Voice 4:  The goldfinch on the birdfeeder,

Voice 2:  the wren that flies into its reflection in the window and falls, stunned, to the ground.
The release of joy as it opens its eyes and shudders into flight.

Voice 1: “ ‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul— and sings the tunes— without the words—and never stops—at all.” (Emily Dickinson)

Voice 5:  Today when I visited that thing that perches in my soul, her feathers were molting, in disarray.
Currently hope is too elusive for me. I fill that space with awe and beauty, I still believe in the magic of mystery whom some name “God”.

Voice 4:  I hear hope when I hear all the frogs calling,

Voice 3:  I hear hope in love songs from balconies,

Voice 2:  hymns from virtual churches,

Voice 1:  honor songs from the heart,

Voice 5:  and in the clapping of healers’ hands as the newly recovered patient traverses their tunnel of love each a celebration, a ceremony, a prayer.

Voice 1:  I hear hope in the voices of St. Anne’s residents and how secure they feel in their belief  that the precautions are taken to keep them safe, in their expectation the time will come  for “normal” to find them.

Voice 2:  Hope swings wildly throughout days, hours and even minutes. 

Voice 3:  I am thrown headlong into hopelessness 

about ever again holding my sister, who lives in a memory care facility—

and then I am carried back joyfully, tearfully

as my strong and beautiful granddaughter

joins the class of 2020, ready to impact the future.

 

Voice: 4  Hope is in the myriad ways people are celebrating

our graduating seniors.

So much love and hope shining through images of

parades, balloons, virtual ceremonies, speeches, choirs and songs.

Voice 2:  Hope is in virtual classrooms set up by creative teachers

Transforming traditions and ways of learning,

 

Voice 3:  Out of sorrow and disappointment come unexpected recognition and joy.

Voice 5:  Signs of love and hope are everywhere–

What a blessing.

 

Voice 1:  I am learning that hope is in dailiness,

Voice 3:  It comes in small but meaningful steps,

in the little things,

learning what is most important.

Voice 2:  This pandemic leads us to greater simplicity—

Voice 4:  We learn to do less, slow down, and do without things we usually take for granted.

 

Voice 2:  Sometimes it’s as simple 

as telling yourself and your husband,

after the pandemic haircut you gave him,

“It will grow back.”

 

Voice 3:  Hope is singing “Happy Birthday” over and over,

with no cake or candles in sight—

Voice 2:  Finding yeast, baking bread.

 

Voice 4:  Hope is the call from a sister, 

letting us

that she is about to have a new grandchild to hold,

as soon as we are done sheltering in place.

 

Voice 1:  Hope appears through our daughter

as she creates beautiful art on a sunny deck.

Voice 3: It comes in the nice gestures of my five-year-old, who is learning to be kind,

Voice 5:  The easy smiles of children bring a rush of hope to my soul.

 

Voice 3: Hope is in that six-foot distance 

as we walk and talk with friends.

Distance isn’t measured by feet,

but in words.

 

Voice 1: Hope is conversations,  virtual coffee hours,  the many hands raised in greeting on a Zoom screen.

Voice 2:  Hope is in sharing encouragement:

Voice 3:  Hope motivates me and makes me strong.

Voice 4:  Staying positive will help you become a lot happier and hopeful.

 

Voice 1:  What I am learning about hope is that hope is a kind of feeling.

Voice 2:  What I am learning about hope is that it is everywhere.

Voice 3: Having hope can make you feel better

even if its just a little bit of it.

 

Voice 1:  Hope is finding courage and healing in the words of others:

in proverbs and platitudes, quotations and songs:

Voice 2:  “Never a failure—always a lesson.” 

Voice 4: “This may be our finest hour.”

(Winston Churchill)

Voice 3: Hope is offering up three words each day:

Just for now,

Voice 5:  Things might be different when we get to the other side of this,

and they even might be better.

 

Voice 2:  Hope is found in the stories of others, stories of inspiration like

The Diary of Anne Frank.

Voice 4:  When I witness the creative accomplishments of people and their ability to

“think outside the box” ,  I am given hope.

 

Voice 1:  The New York Times can be holy—a source of hope and prayer.

A story of reciprocity in the news—

money sent from Ireland to

the Choctaw Nation for their struggle with the coronavirus,

a repayment of money received during the potato famine.

 

Voice 4:  Hope is in the wisdom of science,

in images of vials of trial vaccines scrolling across the screen.

 

Voice 3:  Hope is our most sacred energy source.

Hope is the expression of our God gene,

our inherent power to 

sacrifice, serve, share.

 

Voice 5:  Hope is a responsibility.

Being an elder of the community, 

and one who has experienced much,

it is my responsibility to share encouragement and hope

with my children and grandchildren.

It challenges us to tap into our wisdom, to offer reassurance:

“This, too, shall pass.”

 

Voice 2:  Hope is in relationships.

Now more than ever is the time to reach out to each other and support each other,

to reach out to our neighbors more and build more community.

This is a time of a deeper sense of interdependence, a time to be more 

connected, trusting and sharing what we learn with each other.

 

Voice 1:  The pandemic is bringing the world together

for a common purpose, 

Voice 3: a common search for healing, 

Voice 5:  a collective search for a cure.

 

Voice 2:  Hope is in the discipline of ritual.

Voice 4:  Hope is a practice:

    Find something positive about each day.

    Challenge ourselves daily to do something to help others.

    Practice patience.  

    Grow and spread love.

    Steer clear of despair.

 

Voice 1:  While navigating sadness and loss

I have learned to steer clear of despair

because despair crowds out hope.

Voice 4:  To crowd out despair,

I reach outside myself and focus on kindness and care.

Voice 3:  To live into hope, I need to stretch outside my comfort zone, 

find the courage to be candid, to trust, and to forgive.

 

Voice 2:  Hope is a gift, the opportunity to grow personally, 

building coping skills, making the best of really hard situations.

Transformation occurs during times of struggle and difficulty.

Voice 5:  Faith growth happens during times of struggle and unrest.

 

Voice 1:   “Hope is the possibility of change.” (Michelle Obama)

Voice 3:  Hope comes in change.

Voice 5:  Change is the movement of God.

 

Voice 4:  Hope, the light of Jesus, 

is always leading us forward even 

when we feel like we are in a dark tunnel.

 

Voice 2:  Each day we are one day closer 

to the end of this difficult time.

Voice 5: God is bigger than a pandemic

and allows us to hope that all will be 

well again.

 

Voice 1:  Hope comes in an instant 

with a sense of joy.

Voice 2:  Yesterday the spray from Lady Lake shot

thirty feet over my head

and a rainbow arched from earth high into the sky—

a blessing of wind and water and sun.

 

Voice 3:  What I am learning about hope 

is that you have to sit for a long while on a beautiful Friday afternoon, 

surrounded by anger and loneliness.

Silently you just sit.

Until at last someone says,

“Hope is the beating of our hearts.”

Voice 4:  Someone else adds,

“Hope is our next breath.”

Voice 2:  A third says,

“Hope is this breath.”

Voice 5:  And then we all agree, at times, hope is all we have.