An Epiphany discovery
EDITOR’S NOTE: The Beloved in the Desert members are four young adults who have committed to live together in intentional community, serve in local non-profits, and to pray with the communities of Saint Philip’s and our partners. As of this month they have reached the midpoint of their year of living, serving, and praying among us.
This is a four-part series from the perspective of the Beloved members. This week’s story is provided by Luke Pearson.
One of my biggest challenges during the pandemic has been adapting to the somber reality of not worshiping in person. The church has always provided me with a palpable center that heals, restores, and brings me closer to God. Therefore, when I learned last spring that all worship services would transition to an online format it was difficult for me to embrace. I understood the need for change but that didn’t make it easy to accept.
The pandemic may have stripped our ability to gather in person but it has not removed the courage, adaptability, and resilience shown by the church and its members. My experience leading a few of the weekly Mosaic gatherings on Wednesday nights showed me this first-hand.
This particular Mosaic meeting was attended by a discipleship group of 12-15 people who met via Zoom for Evening Prayer followed by an hour-long discussion and study of “The Restoration Project,” by Christopher H. Martin.
That evening’s focus was on the ninth and tenth steps of Saint Benedict's twelve steps of Humility. These two steps focus on the necessity of implementing intentional silence into our prayers and daily lives.
While exuberant to be leading the discussion there was a part of me that was apprehensive and anxious. What if the group members didn’t engage in conversation? What if no one asked any questions?
My fears subsided after I posed the first question; within seconds the members raised their hands to share their thoughts. My heart was filled with resounding joy (and relief) when participants brought their personal stories and experiences to the discussion.
One member shared how silence and contemplative prayer had healed a deep wound in their life. Another said, “I don’t know what I would do during these times if I wasn’t able to be at these meetings with everyone.”
The meeting was fulfilling and enriching. Each person participated and brought their authentic self to the time spent together. We spoke, laughed, and cried with jubilant hearts in the knowledge that we were never alone in the journey toward salvation, and that God was with us every step of the way.
I left that meeting reassured that communities of faith will continue to prevail over periods of doubt or darkness. On that night, and at subsequent meetings, we witnessed the beauty of how the Kingdom of God is lived through community, and manifested by the acts of simple benevolence for our fellow siblings of Christ.
The Mosaic meetings are celebrations of the unity and uniqueness of our parish family, and affirm our connected love for God and for each other. We are bound together through our brokenness and healed by prayer and trust in one other.
This past year I learned that more important than where I worship is that I worship with a community—and I am grateful to be a part of the Saint Philip’s community.
