From the Rector
Dear Friends in Christ,
A number of years ago, I went back to the Summer Palace in Beijing. When I was in school there in the early 2000s, I had a little spot on an island in the middle of the lake there where I would gather my books and study, almost by myself for much of the day. There was a rocky outcropping by an old temple where I’d tuck into a small niche and study.
It was a wonderful feeling. I’d sit amidst all this history and things would seemingly crawl to a stillness. I could study or daydream or imagine an imperial court at play around me.
I got to go back in 2018. I took our oldest son with me and kind of imagined sharing that space and place with him. As we arrived it was all different though. It was thronged with people early in the morning. I asked the ticket seller how many people had been there the day before. He said “45,000.”
I thought I’d misheard him. This was a place I’d once strolled virtually alone at the same time 15 years ago! I was almost insulted! Of course it’s ridiculous but still — the gall of an unchanging symbol of a once immovable empire daring to change on me!
We made our way through the crowds. We did find some small measure of peaceful quiet. But it was certainly not the same.
We did though find a young boy who wanted to share his sugary treat with Nikolas. We did find a brush painter practicing who wanted to teach him how to write “hello” in Chinese. We found some older ladies who wanted him to dance with them. He ran across a long bridge, weaving through the crowds of folks, as he peeked between stone lions who had watched so many kids run by.
We rode a boat with a man from the countryside who just wanted to chat and chat with him. Sweet grandmas wanted to share their oranges.
What I remembered from when I was there was, seemingly, no longer. But when I took a minute to appreciate what was there now I saw a place that had come alive not just in my imagination, not just in the past. It was alive now — and my son was seeing it alive for the first time. The Summer Palace is now, for him, a place of people and boats and sweet treats shared.
As we move back to church and life after the pandemic there will be much we will miss, I expect. Much won’t feel normal. Things that once seemed so fixed and stable will have shifted a bit — the gall of it! Yet, I’m praying that whatever happens in the days and months and years ahead, that I’ll have the joy of seeing it with fresh eyes — of seeing things alive in new ways.
Even as I remember, I’m praying for the gift of wonder at what is and not just what was. I’m a traditionalist, so that’s hard, but I’ll keep praying and hope you will too!
Fr Robert
