Dear brothers and sisters

No, it wasn’t the “flood of the century,” far from it. But when Wildcat Creek in Kokomo overflowed its banks on Friday, April 19, I learned something about the destructive power of water and the power – even greater – of the Holy Spirit.

This spring’s relentless rains have finally borne fruit in rivers and creeks unable to contain the massive buildup of water. Wildcat Creek, which runs just to the south of St. Andrew, Kokomo, suffered that fate on the 19th, its waters first flooding Foster Park and then, inevitably, the parish’s undercroft parish hall. Throughout the day, Fr. Richard Lightsey and members of the parish struggled to clear the parish hall and kitchen of tables, chairs, cooking equipment, and other essentials – and, to a large extent, they succeeded. By the time the flood reached its zenith, three feet of water stood in the parish hall. The furnace had been disabled, no small matter with nighttime temperatures falling just below freezing that weekend.

Image by Tim Bath, Kokomo Tribune

By accident of calendar, my annual visitation was scheduled for Sunday, April 21, the Fourth Sunday of Easter (often called “Good Shepherd Sunday,” because on that day we always read a portion of John 10). Fr. Richard and I were in regular communication on Friday and Saturday. Would the church be habitable on Sunday? In the end, we decided to celebrate a single Eucharist at 9:00 am (the parish normally offers three). A large number of people had been preparing for confirmation, reception, and reaffirmation in St. Andrew’s Pilgrims in Christ program, and it seemed appropriate that their pilgrimage move forward despite Mother Nature’s onslaught.

Image by Tim Bath, Kokomo Tribune

When I arrived at the church on Sunday morning, the floodwaters had subsided. Foster Park was nearly (but not entirely) dry, and the pumps had cleared the parish hall of water. The damage was sobering. I could see on the wall of the parish hall how far the water had risen, and St. Andrew will be dealing with the resulting mess for some time to come. People arrived for worship prepared for the cold, yet cheerful and wonderfully flexible in their attitude. Some wrapped themselves in blankets, and many wore winter overcoats and huddled close together during the Eucharist. The exchange of the sign of peace was unusually warm and long! While we couldn’t see our breath in the church, it was almost cold enough to do so. As I laid hands on the confirmands, I was profoundly aware that my hands felt icy.

And yet . . . I must say that it was one of the most powerful times of worship I’ve ever experienced. The church was jammed, and people seemed especially aware of the presence and power of the Holy Spirit as we sang God’s praises, celebrated the Sacrament of Christ’s body and blood, and rejoiced with those who were committing themselves afresh to Jesus in confirmation, reception, and reaffirmation.

Even the water, as destructive as it was, provided a gift and a reminder. The Bible tells us, over and over, that water is dangerous stuff. “Save me, O God, for the waters have risen up to my neck” (Ps. 69:1). Water can kill you; and it can certainly (as the flood on April 19 demonstrates) do enormous damage. But water is also, the Bible tells us, the sign and source of life. In baptism we are plunged, sacramentally speaking, into dangerous and yet life-giving water. “Do you not know,” St. Paul asks, “that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:3-4). I found myself this Good Shepherd Sunday pondering themes of death and life, destruction and re-birth, water rising and subsiding and yielding, in the end, a harvest of joy. How grateful I am to the people of St. Andrew for their resilient and positive faith!

Yours in Christ,

+Ed