Blue Monday and Unity

I had forgotten that yesterday was Martin Luther King Jr. day until I was watching seminars about racism from the Calvin Symposium and heard the barely controlled impassioned cries for justice. I had forgotten that yesterday was Blue Monday, a very a propos complement to it given the intense sorrows, fears and anxieties plaguing us from white supremacy, Covid-19 and a host of other ills.

Normally I write an e-mail reflection in the middle of the week to the folks where I’m preaching, a practice started once Covid-19 shut down public worship last March. But I decided to write yesterday because of the above, and also because as of Sunday it’s the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The timing of these three things together - Martin Luther King Jr. day, Blue Monday and the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity - is rich with meaning.

Normally, people (predominantly women) representing a myriad of denominations would gather in a church in my city the Friday afternoon of this week. We would worship together, led by the ladies of the host congregation and using liturgy prepared by a country from somewhere usually exotic. It’s a time of learning about the culture, issues and even music, language and worship styles of that place. Then comes a spread of cookies, squares, sandwiches, veggies and other treats in the church hall and people chatting who rarely see each other but who thrive on the chance to gather and strengthen each other in fellowship.

We don’t get to do that this year. In a year where virtually every country has been impacted by the pandemic and understands and is experiencing the same struggles, fears and suffering, we can’t gather in person in buildings around the globe to bolster each other, to share our stories and to hug and wish each other well. The irony isn’t lost on me - what is currently powerfully connecting our human experience is what is keeping us apart physically.

The idea of this week and coming together is powerful - of leaving our silos and praying for unity across the church, the body of Christ, in all its fragmentedness, woundedness, beauty and possibility. We pray specifically this week for unity - not for growth or wisdom or inspiration, but unity. The worship theme for this year is from John 15:5-9 - Abide in my love and you will bear much fruit (https://www.weekofprayer.ca/2021-wpcu-resources). The service was prepared by a group of religious sisters from various denominations at a monastery in Grandchamp, Switzerland.

As we can’t gather to share in the service together I sent the bulletin to my congregation to read sometime this week, asking them to reflect and pray. How amazing it would be to find greater unity in individual churches, across churches and denominations and beyond our borders. How amazing it would be to agree on and pray for the same things - peace, justice, care for the hurting and impoverished. How amazing if we could make abiding in Christ the most important thing that we do, rather than focusing on managing endowments and budgets, building maintenance and cranking out programs (all things coming up at our annual meetings that we’re likely unsure of how to hold in Covid).

It sounds so simple, but it isn’t. It’s convicting for me to consider where I may be causing disunity, where I might be more about me than the vine, more about my vision than the energy flowing through the Son. When we consider unity across the church we are forced to think of others as just as important as us, to realize that we impact each others’ lives and ministry, and to ponder what greater things we could do together than we can on our own.

May we embrace what we all share and recognize the role we have to play in lifting each other up, working for the dignity, healing and health of others and declaring with one voice that Jesus binds us together and makes all the difference.