I’m still thinking about a man’s tee-shirt I spotted in the freezer aisle a few weeks ago. It carried a two-word assertion, the first “2020” and the second a verb not repeatable here and mostly reserved in these parts for the New York Yankees. I grimly agreed and reached for a pint of Brigham’s vanilla. 

We hope that this letter finds you and yours in good health and wellness. Following up on the Wardens’ letter of last week, I join Morgan in this message and write to you as a fellow parishioner, husband, and father of three, and as a medical scientist engaged daily in the study of COVID-19.

As the weather gets warmer and daylight stretches longer, I’m reminded that though many of the familiar markers of spring looked very different than usual this year, summer has arrived at our doorstep once again. While I am happily welcoming the sunny weather, it’s also tinged with some sadness and disappointment – that the usual gatherings of family and friends must be postponed, favorite places will remain distant, and injustice continues to exacerbate every pandemic suffering. 

What days we are sharing!

Days of pandemic constraint, worry, and mourning, days of tragedy and hard-to-bottle fury, as we bear witness – again – to the horrific legacy of our national history when it comes to race. Our only reliable resources in such times are the ones our faith calls us to: community, introspection, love, the humility required to act on our values, and, for those of us who are white, to confront our ineradicable complicity.

A recent New Yorker cartoon gave me grim chuckle a few weeks ago. In it, the allegorical figure of Death stands outside an apartment door, cowled as usual and with scythe at the ready. A clearly terrified couple stands in their just-opened doorway. “Relax,” says Death. “I’m only here for your summer plans.” 

As we Christians ready for Pentecost, our nation grieves the death of George Floyd and the continuing horrors people of color are suffering under our American flag.  Tomorrow morning at 9:45a we will gather for Morning Prayer and recall when, in the disciples’ great moment of fear, Jesus breathed on his friends the gift of the Holy Spirit.  As we do Sunday after Sunday, we will pray for that same Spirit to inspire us, to heal us, and to make us whole...

One phone call at a time the Trinity Church community is meeting the challenge of staying connected in real and vibrant ways. Starting in mid-April, sixty-nine Comfort Callers reached out to 1100 parish households. The purpose? To joyfully encounter other members of our congregation; to find out how we are all doing during these strange times; and to identify anyone who might be in need. With a script in hand and spreadsheets to collect information, volunteers called an average of eighteen households each. The project, for both callers and recipients, has been a soul-stirring success, and we write today to reassure everyone that the Trinity Church community remains strong and connected!  For those who were unable to pick up, voice mails were left and follow-up emails were sent, and if you did not receive a call – please let us know!  If you will reply to this email, we will look forward to being in touch soon...

The weeks since we last wrote to you in late March have brought a flurry of new activities to our common life, and to life as we must live it - at home, work, and worship - in these unique times. Even as we stay at home and safely distanced, we have shared a creative and life-giving array of opportunities to connect with each other – tapping the power of technology, but most of all each other. From our new Sunday routine (church in pjs!) to weeknight Compline to online coffees and forums to Zoom bible studies, we are keeping alive and strong the ties that bind our beloved community.

I invite you to imagine a future history of Trinity Church written many generations from now and entitled, Being Trinity Church: In The City of Boston and For The World. The preface to “Volume 1” begins:

Greetings from your Trinity music department! Colin, Marissa, our 8 staff singers, and I sorely miss worshiping with you in person – and how the choirs deeply miss rehearsing to prepare for our weekly worship together.