Student Life
Chapel
Chapel Talks

Connected Community

The Rev. Brooks Hundley, Senior Chaplain
 
Enjoy greetings from Dean of Community Life and Upper Chaplain Rev. Rachelle Sam at the Upper School's first virtual chapel on March 31, 2020.

Mark 5:1-20

We are physically apart but virtually, hopefully even spiritually, connected.

Among other things, these past few weeks have made me a bit nostalgic, suddenly appreciating things that it’s easy to take for granted. That nostalgia has also offered the opportunity to draw on memories that bring insight and comfort. It is with that sentiment in mind, that I share a story with you this morning.

When I was a kid, my primary community was the neighborhood that surrounded my grandmother’s house. As the youngest of five, I went to her house every summer along with my older brother and three cousins. These are some of my best memories.

Predictably, kids from the neighborhood would gather in my grandmother’s yard to make something of the day. And even though I was the youngest, these were my people. I remember when my babysitter, Sheila, broke her arm diving head first to win capture the flag. And I can still picture my Cousin Brad’s happiness when finally I hit a home run in whiffle ball. You see he was the best player, so naturally as the youngest, I was always assigned to his team. And we always lost.

But the experience from this community that I want to share today is the one that made me unsettled. It was the nighttime game of Ghost.

If you are not familiar with the game, there is a home base (in our case, the porch steps) where players are safe. One kid is the Ghost who counts to twelve as everyone else runs and hides. One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock, and so on until the ghost gets to midnight, at which time, the ghost starts to roam the yard looking for others to chase. And then, whoever is the first person tagged or the last player to make it back to the porch becomes the new Ghost.

When we played Ghost, I always went to the same place – the big pine tree at the far end of the yard. It was easy to climb, and it made me feel safe in the dark because I also climbed that tree a lot during the day. There was a part of that tree in me. We had logged many hours in the company of one another. In many ways, that tree was like a home.

Maybe that’s how you feel about St. Albans – especially those of you who have been here awhile. If for no other reason, because we all spend a lot of time together. Students and teachers alike- classes, lunch, assemblies, dorm life, play practice, sports games, student clubs, to name just a few.

But here is the real reason why St. Albans might create that kind of attachment for you – that it could even feel a bit sacred. I know school – sacred? But it just might be. It might because each of you make this the community it is by sharing yourself in the classroom, on the stage, out at the fields, in the “sky lounge,” or in the Dog Pound as friends, as classmates, as brothers. And even though our days right now ask us to be apart from one another, there is still a part of this place in us and a part of us in this place. And that is good. That is what will keep us connected these next few weeks.

Seniors tell me that they can become nostalgic about St. Albans during the last few months of school. And recently all of us have been given a glimpse into what it’s like not to have St. Albans as we usually know it. While that is real for all of us, as we come together again, let us also acknowledge the seniors in this regard.

My tree was far away from home base when we played Ghost, and for that reason, people rarely hid there. As soon as we dispersed, from the porch steps, I ran as fast as I could to that tree.

But it was different during those moments because I couldn’t see anyone else, and I was way too scared to run through the yard without knowing what was in front of me. I didn’t like being separated, and I was anxious not knowing what was ahead. I don’t know about you, but I might use these same words to describe what certain moments of the day have felt like recently.

In those “ghost” moments, I felt distanced from everyone and since I was only seven, I didn’t know what you and I know: that both things could exist simultaneously. That while I sat on a branch in the dark wondering when and how I would be reunited with others, my community was still part of me and my world.

Being apart makes these days feel isolating, if not plain boring. It’s just different trying to be connected while physically being apart. And it is not just students; teachers and parents are feeling this, too.

We have to acknowledge that and honor those feelings. Because that is also what will help us continue being a community that holds each other up. And we may not get it right today or even tomorrow. But with God’s help, I trust, we will get there together. In the reading from Mark 5:1-2, a man named Legion is literally living in a tomb by himself. What must that have been like day after day?

For him, there is no community to lean on. In fact people make a point to physically avoid him! Ironically, now for important health reasons, we too, are being asked to keep our distance from one another. Like Legion it may feel like we are stuck in our own cave, or tree, without others.

But unlike Legion, we are equipped with friendships and memories and goodness that can sustain us until we are together again.

One of the things that I have found helpful the last three weeks, is to have some small routines to anchor my day. For me, it’s been exercise, prayer, and writing letters. In a similar way, gathering remotely for school gives us a way to come back to our shared life so that our connection to each other remains deeper than any distance between us.

With this place a part of us, and us a part of this place, there are good things to hold onto and to sustain us.

Friendships and shared experiences don’t just vanish – in fact they deepen with time and perhaps sweeten with distance. And that is where I believe we are invited to lean on God, God who creates us to take care of one another in friendship. Think of the story we heard. Friendship and care is how Jesus closes the gap between Legion and his isolation. It reminds us that regardless of the circumstance or the distance, we are never beyond God’s care and each other’s goodness.

So now with space between us a bit longer, try holding onto what makes this community sacred or special for you – a team, a class, your friendships, our shared experiences. And if God is to be one of our teachers this spring – then as the blessing reminds us, may we be swift to love and make haste to be kind. Amen.
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Located in Washington D.C.,  St. Albans School is a private, all boys day and boarding school. For more than a century, St. Albans has offered a distinctive educational experience for young men in grades 4 through 12. While our students reach exceptional academic goals and exhibit first-rate athletic and artistic achievements, as an Episcopal school we place equal emphasis upon moral and spiritual education.