No Body Now But Yours

Dear Friends in Valhalla Parish, 

I have been reflecting this week on what it means to be church in times like these. This not a simple question of what it means for us as individuals to go to church, or perhaps, to be a part of a church. Those are good questions that we each must ask of God and ourselves. They are questions worth asking.

And yet, as I've been driving around the region these past days, my head and heart have gone to a different place. What might it look like—in these days when we are told to stay as far apart as possible—for the people of God, a people gathered in Christ's name, to be God's hands and feet in the world?

St. Teresa of Avila has famously written: 

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

As we journey with Jesus through Lent, these beautiful haunting words lead me to wonder about the work that we have before us. They lead me to wonder about how the mission and ministry of our Valhalla Parish community—the congregations of St. Stephen's and St. David's serving New Denver, Castlegar, and all points in between—might look a year from now. 

The truth is that despite the disruptions of the past year, the church's mission has not changed. As Anglicans, we often articulate our understanding as the Five Marks of Mission:

• To proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom
• To teach, baptize and nurture new believers
• To respond to human need by loving service
• To seek to transform unjust structures of society, to challenge violence of every kind and to pursue peace and reconciliation
• To strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth

These are good statements. They are compelling and challenging statements. To mean anything, they require more. They require flesh and bones, and breath. The require hands and feet and eyes. To see compassionately, to do good, and to bless the world. 

As we journey with Jesus into Lent, I wonder what this might look like for us. In the lands and communities represented within Valhalla Parish, how are we now, and how might we live more deeply into this vocation—this calling?

I would love to hear your thoughts. I would love to have that conversation. As this year unfolds, I am looking forward to exploring these very things with you, as we set compassionate eyes on our communities, and seek to respond as the hands and feet of Christ amongst our neighbours, in God's beloved world. 

Every Blessing, 

Andrew