Being an Island

As I read (and re-read, present tense in both instances) the opening reflection of Holy Island: A Lenten Pilgrimage to Lindisfarne by James Kennedy entitled "A Word about Islands", there is one thing that really impressed me and that is Kennedy's comment, "No one can be an island or live on an island completely cut off from the life of his fellows, for one would soon become ingrown and unproductive, living artificially. But we can make pilgrimages to one, actually or in our mind, and can designate any time or place of apartness as our Holy Island of retreat and spiritual renewal, provided we do not remain there too long" (P. 7.)

We hear week after week that we Christians are part of a community. We live in a community, we worship in a community, we serve in a community, even our monotheistic God is a community, or economy, of three persons in one. Even our "personal" lives are lived in community. We have the communities of our work places, our families, our friends, our neighborhoods, and many other "communities" in which we live. Unfortunately, and all too often, we get this hair-brained idea that we can do it ourselves and that we don't need the rest of the community. We in effect make ourselves an island.

As a church, St. Boniface is part of the community of Mequon and Ozaukee County (and even a couple of other counties!) St. Boniface is part of a community of churches, part of a community of non-profit corporations, part of a community of forgiveness, part of a community that is called to help the hungry, homeless, and hopeless. When we make ourselves an Island, we leave a hole in the community in which we live.

In the Episcopal Church, each church is part of the Diocese. Again, all to often, an individual church begins to think "we know how to function best" and "We don't need the Diocese to exist." Each church, at some point in their existence, will tend to make themselves an Island and set themselves apart (in a negative way) from the rest of the Diocese.

When we make ourselves an Island, and especially when we stay there, we "become ingrown and unproductive." We become an Island unto ourselves, we begin to live "artificially" because we have lost touch with the reality of the world around us.

This Lent, as a community of people, how do we honestly own our past, repent of our shortfalls, celebrate our blessings, and once again appropriately re-engage the communities that surround us and of which we are such a vital part?