October Newsletter! - Eric in the UK

ST. PANCRAS NEWS
OCTOBER

Are there lines in Ministry?
St. Michael's Day was at the beginning of October. The celebration was wonderful at the Parishes of St. Pancras as we went out into the street and paraded around Camden Town! One thing I can say....I have never led 200 people down a street in a Cassock before!! St. Michael's Day for me was also a painful reminder of the community this church is located in. We have a woman named Sarah who has been with St. Michael's Church ever since Nicholas has been there. She has had extreme ups and downs in her emotions and has wrestled with depression constantly. St. Michael's Day was a low day for her and she came to the mass absolutely drunk. She shouted out things during the service and even attacked one of the Church Wardens because they wouldn't serve her more communion wine. She then hid underneath the altar in the chapel for a while so that no one could talk with her or reason with her. After a couple people finally got her out of her "huddle" position in the chapel, she came into the sanctuary and threw one of the largest fits I have ever seen. Sara started punching the altar, kicking down all of the flowers and candle sticks, and even throwing down the cross near by. Finally, the church had to throw her drunk and belligerent self out.
This event has really caused me to think about how much the church can possibly reach out without being a "door mat". The congregation of St. Michael's has known for years that Sara drinks and has even enrolled her in psychological courses. She just isn't able to follow through. Of course, I have to remind myself that most people are very appreciative of the church's actions in this community. However, the question still rolls in my head though- are there lines to be drawn in ministry?

The Simple Message of a Russian Hymn
Yesterday, I was invited over with Owen to the house of Natalia. Natalia works with me at St. Michael's School as a teaching assistant and music guide. She is from Estonia and moved over with her son and mother to the UK twelve years ago. If anyone would fit the image of a loud, confident, and boisterous Russian, Natalia would be the one. To be honest, the week had been a hard one and Owen and I were very tired and perhaps not in the best of moods to go visit someone. It also takes a lot of energy to speak with Natalia as you have to slow down your speech and really listen to her broken English. However, being that it would be rude to turn down the invitation so late, we went anyway. Our conversation at the table with Natalia and her son Sergio was one of faith, misery, challenge, and hope. Here was a 65 year old woman telling her story of how she beat the odds of being an immigrant woman who headed a family, being homeless, and having cancer. It was something that I have seen so many times here, but this time truly struck home with me. Natalia was a music teacher in Estonia and is still working on getting qualified in the UK. Her love of music rings through her so much, it seemed to reach out and grip all of us. "Music makes us live!", she proclaimed time and time again. After dinner, she literally lifted me out of my chair and plopped me in front of the piano. "Play something that is special to you!", she stated. I shared a camp song that my youth pastor Tom Hunstad would always sing called "Dance with Me". I don't know if it was the fact that I told her Tom had died of cancer or of my horrible playing that made her eyes water, but she was very moved. Owen then played a few hymns that were special to him afterwards. After a brief pause for tea, I then asked Natalia to play something dear to her. The short statured woman looked like she was 10ft tall when she started to play. The song was an Estonian style hymn that she heard before she went into surgery for her brain tumour. The piano hadn't been tuned for probably 10 years and was frightfully out of tune, but for Natalia's playing...it didn't matter. The lyric Russian melody of the piano was a stunning prelude to her singing the Estonian text. All of the tiredness in me was swept away as I was transcended by this beautiful piece. At the end, I asked her what the lyrics meant in English. "Simple", she said. "God's beautiful love is for you and me". How we all should be reminded of that simple fact time and again.

What it is like to loose a friend and be 2,000 miles away from Home
Last Saturday, I received an email from a friend which told me that Katherine Olson, another dear friend of mine from St. Olaf and camp, was murdered when going to a job interview in Savage, Minnesota. Her body was found in the trunk of her car parked in a nature preserve not far away from the perpetrator's house. This was the first murder to occur in the community of Savage for over 25 years. What a blow it is to have it be one of your friends. To say the least, this last week has been one of anger, sadness, shock, and challenge. Ironically, it was Harvest Sunday at St Michael's this last week. So while I was dealing with this tragedy within, the whole focus was about thanking God for the gifts he has given us. It actually proved to be very meaningful as we sang "Now Thank We All Our God" and "For the Beauty of the Earth". Life is a gift that we cannot take for granted at any cost. It only takes a horrible thing like what happened to Katherine to remind all of us just how fragile life can be. The people of this parish have been wonderful and supportive. I have received amazing letters and words of encouragement from people of all walks of life. It has shown me how we all relate to one another in this unique community. No one is for themselves and no one stands alone here. For when one person mourns the community morns. It affects all of us. It took me a little while to realise this and figure out what my role should be in this process. We all have our expectations of what a pastor or priest should be in a community. Perhaps I had unrealistic expectations and expected that I could carry out my duties here perfectly even when I was strongly grieving. This, of course, was not the case and I became frustrated in my own human faults. It wasn't until I really started to open up to the staff here at the parish that I began to realise I am not superhuman. People of the ministry wrestle with the same issues as people of the parish and no one should expect them to be any different. I barely got through the prayer petitions last Sunday without breaking down when I got to the names of the recently departed. Afterwards, I became so frustrated with myself for showing my emotions to the people of the congregation. Nicholas reassured me, however, that it was a good thing. "People need to know that you are human too" , he said. Now that I look back on it, I couldn't agree more. As with many things, I have realised that I need this parish just as much as this parish needs me. I would not be where I am with my thoughts right now if I didn't have the expression of love and support from the people that I work with every single day. The people become so much more than your co-workers and parishioners. They become your strength and your family. Even though I will be struggling with this event for a long time to come in my own right. This tragedy has opened my eyes to the very nature of community and hope. Even though I do feel very far away from my family and friends at home right now, I am not alone. I am with my family here. For that, I say thanks be to God.