New-Fashioned Connection

New-Fashioned Connections

Words: & Photos: Susan Rountree

“When two or three are gathered together, Jesus said in Matthew 10, “I will be in the our initial Covid-19 closing,” says Lee, “a sense of loss and extreme sadness was overwhelming as I moved through our 37,000 square feet of empty space. It took midst of you.” time for our necessary distance and the absence of our people to settle in my soul.” Gathering. It’s a fact that followers of Jesus have been practicing for more than 2,000 years. In twos and threes But the thing about church is this: People need it. They and hundreds and thousands — to worship and to sing need the connection Sunday mornings and commitand to pray, to study and provide comfort, to learn and tee meetings and study and breaking bread together to be nurtured. bring. And as the pandemic continued and people kept comfort in their homes, they sought each other out in The early disciples gathered at the temple, as was their ways both remarkable and old-fashioned, taking it upon practice, and then broke bread in their homes themselves to keep the to honor Jesus’ request to “do this in remem“When I returned to the building line of communication brance of me.” Through the centuries, people open, even though they built churches and cathedrals and gathered by several days after our initial Covid-19 could no longer — at the dozens and the thousands, praising and least temporarily — pass praying and singing, and on Sunday mornings closing,” says Lee, “a sense of loss and the peace. for a very long time, all seemed right. extreme sadness was overwhelming as I Among the first things Until a microscopic virus brought it all to a the Rev. Holly Gloff did halt. moved through our 37,000 square feet was pick up the phone. In her ministry to the In mid-March churches all over the country of empty space. It took time for our older members of our shut their doors to the outside world. No parish, she knew full well services, no meetings, no more knitting in parnecessary distance and the absence of the most vulnerable in lors, no more mid-weeks meals for the elderly, our congregation needed no more gatherings of any kind of 10 people our people to settle in my soul.” assurance that all would or more. be well. With more than — LEE HAYDEN 300 members over 70, At St. Michael’s, Lee Hayden, director of operthat proved to be quite ations and our newcomer ministry, opened the church the task, and she asked for help. master calendar and cleared it, a task unthinkable only days before. In spring, the St. Michael’s calendar blooms “We are not permitted to go to hospitals and homes like a newly-planted garden — the ECW Garden Party, at this time,” says Holly. “About the best we can do for choir festival, Senior Sunday, Confirmation, Spring Fling each other is to stay in contact, and make sure every— a calendar so full Lee can hardly find rooms to schedone is at least safe. Some we call, sometimes several ule every event. times.”

Yet throughout this spring, our parking lot lay empty, the front doors of the church locked, offices dark, as the congregation, clergy and staff waited for news of when we could open again.

“When I returned to the building several days after She’s learned about parishioners with family members in hospice care, where visitors are no longer allowed.

“Lots of people who live at Springmoor, the Cypress, the Cardinal and other retirement communities are locked down and not permitted to have friends come by and

New-Fashioned Connections

The St. Michael’s staff has stayed connected through weekly Zoom meetings.

visit,” Holly adds. “So many people are bored, feel caged in, “incarcerated” as one person put it. Fortunately, we have, for the most part, many who “take it as it comes.

“Many of our parishioners are inveterate readers, and with the Internet, they have more subjects to explore than you can shake a stick at. One person has been spending weeks exploring her ancestry and is learning so much that she can share with her family. One gentleman is writing a book.

“Most of us, in our busy lives, have forgotten how to connect with people in any way except for passing along information in the fastest most efficient ways,” Holly adds.

“And this has sadly replaced any form of communication where people have time to process their answers to questions. This time has afforded us the opportunity to sit down with a cup of tea and chat. It’s not wasting time; it’s building community. “People who have been retired for a while still have a need to be listened to. They need to be respected and paid attention to. Is this not true of everyone of ANY age? No, we can’t always see each others’ eyes when we visit by phone, but we can, over the phone, hear the catch in someone’s voice if you listen carefully.”

Among the volunteers answering Holly’s ministerial call was Diane Carter, a lay Eucharistic minister who is also a chalice bearer, has been taking communion to people in their homes for the past few years.

“The Lay Eucharistic Ministry, for me, is largely the relationship we have with the receiver and their family or caregiver and the connection we can bring them to the outside world,” she says. Though a typical visit includes time to catch up, “the communion itself is the most important and most meaningful to them,” she says. “I can see it in their faces and in their demeanor as we share in the Eucharist.”

Each month, Diane sends a visitation schedule for Eucharistic home visits. For the time being, though, phone calls have had to replace the personal contact. “During these not normal times, when I sent out the April schedule, I quoted Holly from one of her early sermons: “get out your parish directory and dust it off,” and call people.

Staff, clergy and Vestry members have all been calling members of the congregation since stay-at-home orders began. Every few weeks, new lists circulated, and for those who picked up the phone, a new voice inquired as to their welfare.

At left, refugee family Dusabe Nyirazana and her three young sons hold food provided by Wake County Schools and delivered by members of the St. Michael’s Refugee Ministry. The team has been tutoring them and helping set up Internet service so the children and Dusabe can all learn virtually during the pandemic. Below right, Eliz abeth Harrell set up a small chapel in her home so her daughter could watch “Mr. Bob” in All Angels Chapel.

Scotty Steele photo

CONNECTIONS continued from page 9 Another important ministry that refused to allow COVID-19 to interfere is the St. Michael’s Intercessory Prayer team. The group has gathered behind closed doors each Wednesday for many years, and though they could no longer meet in person, they quickly figured out how to continue to pray for members of our congregation and the world by using the online meeting software Zoom.

“The first couple of times we sputtered a bit,” says Karen Wagoner, “with members learning how to get onto Zoom.” Though they typically pray specific prayers together, Karen says, “We learned very quickly that all of us speaking at one time simply didn’t work, so we have modified our format so that only one of us is saying the group prayers.”

“I have finally managed to get both my voice and face on line, but not always at the same time,” says Bobbie Courie. “It is so wonderful to see each other and continue our prayers for our St. Michael’s family and others.” The team has added prayers for doctors, nurses, health care workers, first responders, respiratory therapists and those who clean our hospitals.

“And all who go to work each day because they perform essential work,” Bobbie says. “Farmers, grocery store workers, and child care and adult care providers.”

Elizabeth Harrell photo

The Women’s Bible Study was not as successful. Frances Penick, the leader, was at a loss when she learned they could no longer meet at church. “Regretfully,” she says. “I was not familiar with Zoom and other virtual capabilities, so in the interim, my only contact with the ladies was through email. It just wasn’t enough. No beautiful smiling faces. No sounds of laughter. No welcoming hugs. No holding hands together in prayer. No shared insight of the Scriptures. No personal interaction in fellowship at all. And that is truly the heart of our gathering.”

It’s been a struggle, she says, to be without this important spiritual group and without worship in the church. “I believe that in the midst of our anguish blessings can be found,” she says. “My eyes have been opened to what I took for granted.”

The Women’s Bible Study group will reconvene in the fall.

Parishioners did find inventive ways of staying connected to each other, though, and in the case of our Refugee Support Team, that connection has been crucial. The team arranged to pick up meals for Dusabe and her children from their school to make sure the children were fed during a time when at least two meals each day had been provided to the children by Wake County Schools.

“Our St. Michael’s Refugee Ministry has taken advantage of the WCPSS food distribution at school sites in order to pick up bundles of lunch and breakfast packages and deliver to Dusabe’s door each day,” says Scotty Steele, who serves on the ministry team. “Later, the distribution points changed, so Dusabe could pick up the food bundles at her neighborhood park very close to her apartment.

“In addition,” Scottie says, “Lutheran Services made it possible for our committee to pick up every Thursday from the Inter-Faith Food Shuttle a large box of fresh produce and a frozen casserole and deliver to Dusabe.”

Ministry members also helped tutor Pitie and Cedric, Dusabe’s oldest children. “They have school computers with Internet capability and are receiving remote help from the committee tutoring team,” Scotty adds. “Dusabe is beginning an ESL online program with Wake Tech. Carroll’s Kitchen plans to call Dusabe back to work when they reopen.

“Work is continuing with Catholic Charities to have the family placed in better housing,” Scotty says.“

The Canterbury Shop, suddenly faced with no shoppers because the church was closed to parishioners, launched the Canterbury Shop To Go just days after the church building closed. The virtual shop opened in time for Easter and Mother’s Day giving, and parishioners were quick to respond. The shop offered popular items for sale online through holymichael.org, with at the church pickup and even delivery.

“We were excited we figured out how to launch The Canterbury Shop To Go on very short notice,” says Frances Fontaine, the shop’s buyer. “And we have done well. It’s not the same as greeting our customers in person, but we’ve been happy we could help people with birthday presents, baby presents, Mother’s Day and more as we continue to raise funds for St. Michael’s outreach projects.” The Canterbury Shop Committee hopes everyone will check out the website on a regular basis as they make updates weekly. “Let us know how we can help you!” she adds.

Others hung prayers on the prayer tree the Rev. Anna Page created. They set up tiny chapels for their children to watch “Mr. Bob” tell stories on Sunday mornings. And our “lay weeders” continue their work on Tuesday mornings — six feet apart — to make sure our grounds stay beautiful for the many neighbors who find solace walking our labyrinth and spending time in our gardens.

The Diocese of North Carolina has formed a task force to look at when churches might reopen and how. Much has to be considered before bringing hundreds of people back into the church to sit together in close quarters. The

“Mr. Bob” Vevurka moved All Angels chapel services to the Manly Garden. He and other volunteers have continued their programs for children during the pandemic.

Rev. Dr. Vincent Kopp, St. Michael’s priest associate, is a member of the Task Force and is part of the group looking at the safety of congregations, clergy and staff as churches reopen, but there are a range of factors under consideration, most importantly how to conduct in-person worship as safely as possible.

No matter where or how we worship, though, all agree that God is in our midst.

“Knowing the body of Christ still exists, but was disbursed for a greater good eventually became acceptable,” Lee says of the time the building has been empty. “We are shaped deeply by our life inside the walls of St. Michael’s, so whether we are gathered or scattered we continue as the body of Christ, a people well equipped to share the grace of God with our families, friends, neighbors and strangers. There is no better time to be a Christian, as we are being given the opportunity to respond to a hurting world daily.”

We Are Easter People

THE DYNAMIC DUO BRINGING SUNDAY SERVICES TO OUR BREAKFAST ROOMS EACH WEEK SHINES LIGHT FOR US ALL IN THESE DARK TIMES.

Words & Photos: Susan Byrum Rountree

It’s quiet, and Chris Carson stands alone in the St. Michael’s nave, packing up the last of his video equipment at the end of his Easter recording session. He looks around at the brilliant purples and aquas and golds of the stained glass windows casting hues over the empty pews and revels in the beauty, even empty, of our church home. It’s clear the Holy Spirit has been here, though the people have not.

It has been a long few weeks as Chris and video compadre Jeff McLamb have balanced their professional jobs with their new volunteer assignment to bring the church home to close to 2,000 St. Michael’s parishioners. It’s a job neither of them knew they were signing up for when, days after news of the COVID-19 pandemic, they gathered in the church with the Rev. Greg Jones and Bob Spaziano, the parish’s technology guru, to discuss how to livestream Sunday services for those who could no longer attend safely.

And then, the Rt. Rev. Samuel Rodman closed the churches to all.

Bishop Rodman’s motion set into play our new video team, creating hundreds of hours and details that together formed a new way of worshiping at St. Michael’s. This new way involves not only sermons, prayers and hymns, but drones and even the concept of coffee — creatively woven into a spiritual tapestry that on Easter Day would reach close to 1,400 households. That’s hundreds more than on a typical Easter Day.

Each week, the videos capture the essence of our parish in ways that are both beautiful and surprising, and though the services are much shorter than normal, “attendees” leave spiritually fed and emotionally moved.

“It all happened so fast,” says Chris. “One day we were talking about recording a sermon and suddenly we were producing short films with wonderful music, images of the church and gardens.”

This new undertaking grew from a simple ask a couple of years ago.

Jeff, an electrical engineer who designs video processing hardware for monitors used with high-end camera equipment for a Cary company, and former Associate Rector Robert Fruehwirth were chatting about Jeff’s job. Robert

asked Jeff if he knew anything about videography, and Jeff soon found himself behind the camera, recording Adult Forum sessions for holymichael.org.

“I really don’t do videography for a living,” Jeff says, “but (I thought) my small amount of knowledge could really improve the production value of our forums.”

Who could have predicted in 2018 that Jeff’s camera would in 2020 be the lens for our parishioners to join in worship from breakfast rooms all over Raleigh?

Chris came into the video ministry from a different direction. Six years ago, he fulfilled a lifelong dream and started STEMbrite Learning, a company providing online learning services using “Lightboard,” a glass chalkboard used for recording video topics.

“In early days,” says Chris, “we hired videographers, but as I worked closely with them, my curiosity got the best of me and I started to learn how to handle the production myself. I found that I could translate my background and love of painting and architecture into this new medium.”

Chris and Jeff continued to work in their professional jobs during the pandemic, Chris working alone in his studio with clients through Zoom, and Jeff at home in his “test lab,” set up in the bonus room. Most of the employees at Jeff’s work had a two-week furlough, but he was considered a “critical contributor.” (Chris has since returned to his work full time.)

Jeff McLamb watches the camera as Bonnie Woodruff prays the Prayers of the People in a recent taping session. “When the notice came out that church services and programs were canceled,” Jeff recalls, “my first thought was, ‘well now at least I don’t have to worry about figuring out how to livestream services and still keep them interesting.’ My mind very quickly turned to, ‘What can we do to provide a church community experience on Sunday to those who now aren’t even allowed to attend, and will we be allowed to do it?’”

It soon became clear that pre-recorded content allows for better production value. Recorded content can be edited, music added, along “B-roll” — the images of our parish grounds coming to life in spring, of our baptismal font, and of all that light, casting colors through the windows onto the pews and floors of the nave.

Though at first, the idea was to shoot the sermon and “get the message to the people in the most direct way possible,” says Jeff. But as the team worked together, their creativity kicked in, and the plan transformed to create a powerful spiritual drama unfolding throughout the weeks of Lent and on into the season of Easter.

“We turned on all the lights, lit the altar candles, and did whatever we could to make an empty church not look so empty,” Jeff says.

When the Rev. Jamie Pahl asked to have a song he’d written added to the end of his sermon, that created another opportunity.

“We essentially invented a church music video,” Jeff says, which needed some imagery behind the music on the screen.

“The experience of each week has fed the next,” says Chris. “Each week as we look back on the work we’ve produced, we see things that we would have done differently. So we think, ‘next time, I’ll get a shot of the windows, or altar, etc.’ And it’s been a time to showcase some of our favorite places at the church, iconic views, things we all love.”

While many churches around the country have been livestreaming services for some years, few have the advantage of having a licensed drone operator create parts of the service. Jeff, who is licensed, brought his drone into the church (and over it).

TEAM Continued from page 13 “My main focus with the drone is to give the people the feeling that they are still together with the St. Michael’s community. The drone provides a feeling of floating over and around the church, inside and out. This is how I imagine the Holy Spirit to be present with us while we worship.”

Chris estimates that between the two of them, he and Jeff spent close to 20 hours each week of Lent recording and editing the videos. They became more efficient each week.

But it always takes 20 hours if you count the whole process: planning, shoots, setup and breakdown, post-production editing and finally, uploading the completed video for St. Michael’s staff to upload it to holymichael.org and our YouTube channel. They share in the post-production work.

“Jeff and I have complementary skills, equipment and experience,” Chris says. “It’s been amazing how what we know has just dovetailed. We support each other, teach each other new things and share our experience. We build off of the work of the other, adding and enhancing. We both think it’s been a fun and meaningful experience and have been challenged in doing it as well.” On a recent shoot, the two of them aimed their lenses at an empty pew where in a few minutes, parishioner Bonnie Woodruff would take her seat to read the Prayers of the People. They measured the light, adjusted the F-stops to a shallow depth-of-field, seated her in “her pew” and hit “record.” They then moved Bonnie to the transept for the reading of the Epistle, each taking a separate camera angle so in post-production Bonnie would not be staring into one camera.

“In all my years at St. Michael’s there have been a number of highly memorable periods,” says the Rev. Greg Jones. “But working with Jeff and Chris during this unprecedented time that none of us has ever experienced in our lifetimes — or in any lifetime it would seem — has been a great pleasure.

“With virtually no lead time and no prior experience doing anything like it, we went from never videotaping worship services to producing a high-quality weekly product. We simply will not ever be able to thank them enough for what they have done for us and getting us through this time with these videos.”

Chris Carson adjusts camera settings before recording the Rev. Dr. James L. Pahl Jr

Jeff McLamb, left and Chris Carson, form our video team, bringing services to our congregation each Sunday morning. Below,

Chris adjusts the SLR settings during a recent shoot.

Parishioners like Pat Morrison, who has been a member of St. Michael’s for 52 years, have found the videos to be heartwarming.

“You feel like you are there, like you want to touch something at the church,” she says. “And when Greg put our pictures on the altar, I thought, well, I’m not there physically, but I am spiritually.”

Pat raised her family at St. Michael’s. Though her husband and children have passed away. She regularly attends Wednesday services and you can find her in the kitchen on those days, fixing lunch for others. “St. Michael’s has always been there for me,” she says.

Now she watches on Sunday mornings. The videos, she says, help her feel everything about church. “I love how they take the drone into the church and show it all. You can see all the angles, like you’re walking in. And the garden. It’s remarkable. I’ve been going to Wednesday services for a long time, but I might have to go on Sundays when this is over.”

The filming itself has been particularly meaningful to the team as well.

“I set up early one morning to shoot a time lapse video of the sun rising behind the bell tower,” Jeff says. “I was doing work on my laptop, sitting on the tailgate of my SUV about half an hour after the sun came up when my cell phone rang. The engineering director from my office called to tell me that because of the pandemic we’d be shutting down our office and furloughing most employees, but that

he was going to make a special case to the CEO to keep me going as a critical contributor. I hung up the phone and said a prayer for peace and strength for me and my co-workers to face whatever comes. At that moment, the sun erupted from behind a gray cloud. It felt as if God were telling me that no matter what happens, it is going to be all right.”

On March 22, the message rang clear again, as the Rev. Anna Page preached her first sermon of the pandemic.

“There was a moment when she used the expression, ‘we are Easter people,’” says Jeff. “I had heard her use it before, but for some reason I felt my heart swell with joy. For me, those were exactly the words I needed to hear at that moment; that we are not alone, even in this pandemic, and that we can place our hope in a resurrected Jesus.”

Chris and Jeff, through their ministry, show that Easter people are everywhere at St. Michael’s, bringing the light to all.

Susan B. Rountree is director of communications for St. Michael’s.

Here Comes the Dreamer

ANNA PAGE REALIZED HER DREAM OF ORDINATION BUT NOT UNDER TYPICAL CIRCUMSTANCES. HERE, SHE MARVELS AT THE WORLD OF THE DEACONATE, WHICH SHE JOINED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PANDEMIC.

Words: The Rev. Anna S. Page Photos: Jeff McLamb

As someone ordained to represent Christ and Christ’s Church through serving those in need, assisting bishops and priests, publicly proclaiming the Gospel, and administering the sacraments, a newly-minted Deacon may feel lost if ordained during a global pandemic. A new Deacon may feel inadequate, unsure of how to live into her Holy Orders in a climate in which everyone is required to stay home. She may be searching for meaning. I know she may be feeling this because that newly minted Deacon is me.

On April 4, roughly three weeks after the state of North Carolina instated a mandatory shelter-in-place order, I was ordained as a transitional Deacon in the Episcopal Church. We had scheduled this ordination weeks before COVID-19 became a household name. As time progressed, “COVID-19,” “pandemic,” “quarantine” and “social distancing” became commonplace terminology. So, we iterated our plans.

As a bi-vocational clergy member and Army officer, “adapt and overcome” is in my DNA. Never did I imagine, however, that this phrase would apply to my ordination. But there it was. We configured an ordination for two ordinands, with fewer than 10 people physically present. Yet, while only 10 were present, nearly 2,000 joined via a Facebook livestream.

This is how my ordained ministry began – with flexibility, in liminality and from ingenuity. Thus, to be ordained a Deacon during pandemic is to be called to creativity. It is a charge to blur the lines between sacred and secular. and it is a command to dream.

In the past few months, we have been forced to reconsider how we communicate, work, inhabit space and even eat. For those of us in the Church, we have also had to confront how we do ministry. And that takes creativity. According to the Book of Common Prayer, as someone called to the “special ministry of servanthood,” a deacon must consider: “What does it mean to serve?” and “How do we serve those in need?” Underscoring these questions is the perennial question of, “What would Jesus do?” Expressed another way, “What would the Embodiment of Love do?”

Embracing this call to service takes myriad forms during a pandemic. One may take a monastic approach, quietly fulfilling her commitment to studying Scripture and praying for the world. She may also find herself assisting in public worship, offering prayer or preaching virtually. Perhaps she is learning to view the world sacramentally — seeing God’s grace at work in growing plants, hearing God’s grace as the birds chirp or experiencing God’s grace through the kindness of a stranger. She then may assist others in viewing the world in such a way too, facilitating the sacramental engagement of others.

Or, perhaps, she embodies her role of dismissing the congregation to be a blessing to the world. She dons a mask and participates in community food drives, she helps congregants make meaning of their lives so they may be beacons for others, and she serves as a reminder to be gentle — with ourselves and with others. As the Rt. Rev. Samuel continued on the next page

The Rt. Rev. Samuel Rodman ordains Anna S. Page to the deaconate on April 4

DEACON from page 16 Rodman reminded us during my ordination, this new way of being the church “invites us to do our best, to recognize that we will make mistakes, to honor the fact that we are all figuring this out together. Leadership is a call to imperfection: honesty, vulnerability and willingness to own the ways in which we fail to measure up.” A deacon can be this living reminder as she creatively approaches service to others as a continuation of the Embodiment of Love.

One aspect of the Embodiment of Love is that Christ blurred the line between the sacred and the secular. He invited us to live into the “already but not yet” of God’s kingdom.

Now, as we find ourselves quarantined at home, barred from gathering in traditionally sacred spaces, we can accept this invitation. We must reconsider our normative definitions of sacred spaces, times and rituals.

In his ordination sermon, Bishop Rodman equated liturgical action in pandemic to “setting the table in the wilderness.” Given that the liturgical call of the deacon is the

The Rev. Anna Page holds the stole she wore for her ordination. She made it as a confirmand in 9th grade and it depicts Love of all, service to the world, scripture, Christ’s sacrifice, spreading joy and the Trinity. “They were important to me then and inform my ministry now.”

setting of the table, she stands at the forefront of setting this table in our current lived reality. She stands at the forefront of blurring the lines between sacred and secular.

This begins with the literal ordination, an outward sign that “things which were cast down are being raised up,” occurring in a season of perpetual Good Fridays. It then continues with the deacon living into her call to creativity. Creativity opens the door to — sets the table in — liminal space, which is Christian hope. This is so because we know, as Bishop Rodman said, that the “promise of Scripture is that God is always setting tables in the wilderness.” As we find ourselves in wilderness, therefore, the deacon must encourage us to find the sacred in the secular as she sets the table for the Church in new ways.

Envisioning what the Church would be, moreover, would not be possible without the ability to dream. A pandemic ordination demands dreaming. For me, this reality was emboldened by the fact that I was ordained on the feast day of Martin Luther King Jr., a perfect example of a dreamer who, in the midst of pandemic, envisioned what the world could be and set the table to make his dream a reality. His dream consisted of love, unity and justice. His dream echoed Luke’s Gospel words, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dream can be the dream of the newly-minted deacon. His dream seeks to answer, “What would the Embodiment of Love do?” and it answers this question by creatively blurring the lines between the sacred and the secular.

This is how my ordained ministry began — with flexibility, in liminality and from ingenuity. Being ordained during a global pandemic in which everyone is required to stay home is to be called to a ministry of creativity, finding the sacred in the secular, and dreaming. Yet, perhaps, this is what the whole Church is called to during these unprecedented times.

Though this charge takes a particular form in an ordained capacity, it is a challenge to which we can all rise. We are all members of the body of Christ, called to make God’s kingdom come here on earth. As such, we all have a ministry. May we all embrace this period as we launch the Church — and the world — into what it could be.

Thank you to all who made this ordination possible. In particular: The Episcopal Diocese of NC, the Rev. Greg Jones, St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, the Bishop of Armed Forces and Federal Ministries, and the Diocese of Massachusetts.