Shortly after graduating from divinity school, I spent two weeks at Holy Savior Priory, an Anglican Benedictine monastery just outside Charleston, South Carolina. It was a place where life moved at a different pace. The day was measured not by appointments or deadlines, but by bells calling the community to prayer. Even the ordinary work seemed to carry the quiet dignity of worship.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One afternoon I was working in the barn when I realized my college class ring had slipped from my finger. Earlier, I had been hauling wheelbarrow loads of straw, manure, grass clippings, and kitchen scraps to the compost pile behind the guest house. If the ring had fallen anywhere, it was there. The afternoon light was beginning to soften, and before long the bell would ring for Vespers. Frustrated, I climbed into the compost pile and began searching through layers of damp grass, vegetable peelings, eggshells, and yesterday’s forgotten meal, hoping to catch the glint of gold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What I didn’t know was that Father Gill, one of the older monks, had been watching quietly from the kitchen window. A few moments later he walked over, smiled gently, and said, “It appears you have lost something.” I explained what had happened. Without another word, he removed his long white hooded robe , folded it neatly to one side, stepped into the compost beside me, and began searching. For the next half hour we sifted through the pile together. We searched patiently, turning over handful after handful of what everyone else had thrown away. Neither of us said very much. There was only the quiet companionship of two people sharing the same search.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We never found my class ring. But over the years I’ve come to realize that perhaps I wasn’t the one who had lost something that day. Father Gill wasn’t helping me recover a ring. He was teaching me how to love. Until then, I imagined love as saying the right words, offering wise advice, or solving another person’s problems. Father Gill revealed another way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Love steps into another person’s compost pile. Love doesn’t remain safely at the edge, offering instructions about the mess. It enters it. It gets its hands dirty. It chooses presence over solutions, companionship over explanations. It is willing to stand in the places that smell of disappointment, grief, fear, failure, and uncertainty simply because someone else should not have to stand there alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’ve long since forgotten what that class ring looked like. But I have never forgotten the sight of an elderly monk quietly removing his white habit, stepping into the compost beside me, and searching as though my loss had become his own. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I have come to believe that this is where love does its finest work. Not from a safe distance. But in the messy, complicated places where human lives are lived. \u2629<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Whether you’ve been in church every Sunday, haven’t been in years, or are simply wondering if there’s still a place for you, consider this your invitation. This Sunday, we’d love to welcome you to Danbury Community Church. Come just as you are\u2014with your questions, your hopes, your joys, and your burdens. There is no expectation that you have it all figured out. There is simply a place for you here. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n We gather each Sunday at 11:00 a.m., and no matter how long you’ve been away, you’ll always find a warm welcome at Danbury Community Church. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n With kindness,<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pastor Tim<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Shortly after graduating from divinity school, I spent two weeks at Holy Savior Priory, an Anglican Benedictine monastery just outside Charleston, South Carolina. It was a place where life moved […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[3],"class_list":["post-428","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-church-news","tag-church-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/428","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=428"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/428\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":430,"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/428\/revisions\/430"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=428"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=428"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/danburycommunitychurch.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=428"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}