Dear Ones of St. Columba’s,

What a experience it has been to have a year that sped by, after the long and lonely first two years of pandemic time. As I sat down to comb through our history of this past year, I realized how fast it went. I have mixed feelings about this. I cherish time spent with you. In 2022 we continued to figure out what life after lockdown looks like for St. Columba’s. We had an entire year of worshiping in person, and discerned how to most effectively use the online tools we learned out of necessity in ways that augment in person gatherings and continue to include people when they are sick or for other reasons cannot come in person. At the beginning of the year your bishop’s committee met together to talk about how to take advantage of the openness of this moment – what parts of our life to reinstate, and where we might want to negotiate changes. The goals this BC generated were all about continuing to find ways to love our people, care for our building and grounds, and be a blessing to our neighborhood. I couldn’t be prouder of their work.

I am also very proud of your work, this past year. It is work to be church, to return to patterns of attendance and worship that were disrupted completely during pandemic, to adjust to worship times that are not quite the same as before, and to continually be willing to adapt how we live together, how we serve together, and how we welcome newcomers and strangers, together. My experience is that St. Columba’s is always up to do this work. When I talk about you in my travels around our church, inevitably someone will sidle up to me and say some version of “hey, your church can’t actually be as wonderful as you describe. You’re exaggerating, right?” And I can always honestly reply that no – St. Columba’s really is as flexible, loving, and invested in community as I claim.

Friends, this is a strange letter to write. I am at this moment on a bishop slate, which means that there is a chance that this is the last Vicar’s report I will write to you. While I have never felt less ambiguous about the future of St. Columba’s (spoiler alert: it’s bright, hopeful, and full of energy, joy, and community) I do feel all kinds of ways about where you and I are in our pastoral relationship. I am curious about what the Holy Spirit has in mind for me, and sad that it may mean leaving you. I am immensely proud of the work we have done together. The prevailing feeling I have is gratitude – the past 8+ years of ministry in this congregation have been some of the very best years of my life. This faithful community has shaped me in ways that many of you know well because you also have been shaped as Christians by praying, serving, and loving here. I say this often, but perhaps not as often as I should to you: if there is any goodness in my priesting, a large part of that goodness comes from belonging to you. You have taught me that the vocation of parish priest is one that is at its heart about love, joy, and holding fast to each other. These past three pandemic years, years in which many of my colleagues in ministry were burned out, exhausted, and disillusioned in their work, were years of growth and creativity in ministry for me, in large part because of the faithfulness and flexibility of the St. Columba’s community. They were also hard years, do not misread me. But they were good, because we stayed church, stayed connected, and took care of each other.

Our community does face challenges in the years ahead. Our neighborhood is changing, and this will change how we relate to our neighborhood. The addition of new homes to the south of us is full of possibilities for welcome and relationship. Our own north acreage is ripe for redevelopment, and I believe this year we will make a decision about what do to there. And as we face the possibility of my departure there is a lot of room for others in the congregation to take up work that has centered with me, Meghan, and some BC members in terms of relationship building and welcome with our South Sudanese sibling congregation, the growing bonds with the local Congolese immigrant community, and work with our immigrant and refugee garden users. All of these exciting possibilities are present to us within a world that is itself still uncertain and challenging. We are running our first deficit budget this year – a small deficit that is a direct result of the mandatory COLA passed at diocesan convention, but a sign that we are not immune to the economic tides around us. We have savings to cover our deficit but will need to be smart and careful with how we steward our funds and look to replenishing these savings as the year goes on.

I also deeply believe that our community is called to grow – which is to say I believe that even now God is preparing the hearts of people we have not yet met to come to St. C’s and find community and home here. It is my hope that in this year to come we revisit how we welcome newcomers, and work to be ready for these folks as they arrive among us.

Thank you to the amazing staff we have had this past year – Elaine, Martin, Becca, and Val. It was hard to say goodbye to Becca and Elaine as staff, although each remains connected and part of our worshipping community and heart. And I would be immensely remiss if I did not lavish praise on my clergy partner in this work. I cannot imagine how we ever got on without Meghan – I cannot imagine a better priest to work with, or to entrust with the work of being a priest in this place. Whatever the future holds for me, I am certain that she will remain a loving and present priest to you, leading well for years to come.

Thank you, church, for being you. Thank you for a faithful and generative year together. I cannot wait to see what happens next, and I intend to enjoy every moment of our time together.

With care and gratitude,

Alissa+