"No cowardly spirit"

A Rushford update from Bishop Jelinek

Emmanuel Church in Rushford, before the floodwaters subsided in August
(Photo supplied by Emmanuel, Rushford)

“Never ever give up.” That’s what the sign said in front of the school in the heart of Rushford. When I turned the corner on Sunday afternoon to drive the further three blocks to Emmanuel, I saw more. The stores were empty, watermarks from the flood up the sides and fronts of the buildings, and in window after window I saw the yellow sign, “Never ever give up.” The more signs I saw, the more I fought back tears. There were piles of debris in the front yards, spilling over the sidewalk, pieces of furniture, rugs, part of a picture frame, you name it. Some of the buildings and homes had yellow tape to show it was unsafe to walk there, and there were different kinds of stickers on the doors, the blue one meaning “total loss” and “demolition.” Some hoped for that sticker, since things were so bad, if it were totaled they might find it easier to rebuild.

As I entered the church, I was thinking about loss and giving up and courage and hope. People greeted me with warmth, but like we do when someone comes to see us when there has been a death in the family. Not a lot of words, a little extra time in the hug. Sharing love and holding on because of loss.

I was there to celebrate the Eucharist, listen to stories, and pray for healing. First I looked at the basement of Emmanuel where the brand new furnaces are that have been ruined by the flood. The basement is almost dry, and the new electrical box and wiring are in, thanks to gifts from many of you in the diocese. The organ mechanical system sits in a basement alcove in shambles, unusable. “This is how high the water got,” Alan said. “We were lucky, because it didn’t get up into the church.” Lucky!

We began the liturgy when most of those we knew were coming had arrived. Alice Applequist+ and a couple of others from Chatfield were with us to pray. They have already been there to help and came again. We listened to the lessons from 1 Timothy and the gospel: “The Spirit God gives us is no cowardly spirit, but one that makes us strong, loving and wise;” and the disciples’ plea to Jesus, “Increase our faith.” I had entered a space with a lot of faith, a "never ever give up" faith, which I heard again and again in their stories. The stories were about where they had been when the flooding hit that Saturday night in August, how they checked on families, rescued people and pets with boats, had people living with them for a month or more (or still).

Feelings ran high when telling of the losses and the tiredness and the ongoing looking at the debris and the broken-down homes and schools and stores and churches. There were tears at the remembrance of moments of fear that they would lose their beloved Emmanuel Church which has been there so long, that the Episcopal Church might go out of business in Rushford. Bronwyn Skov had reassured them that they are in all of our prayers and that we are willing to walk with them and to help, and they have come to believe that from the gifts that have come in, but the memory of that fear was still strong. When one has prayed in the same church for well over seventy years, there is a spiritual relationship with the space as well as with God and the friends one meets there week in and week out. I heard several times, “Everyone in town has been affected by this flood,” and when I said that I had heard that a flood is perhaps the hardest disaster to “get over,” there was much nodding of heads. The other thing that came through with the stories was an immense gratitude that this had not been any worse. No matter what people had lost, they were more grateful for what they still had, mainly their lives, their faith and each other.

After the stories, I offered anointing and laying on of hands for everyone there, and everyone knelt, one at a time, surrounded by the others, and we prayed. Then we concluded our eucharist with the familiar words that speak even more profoundly at a time like this.

Brenda had brought a coffee pot and a still-warm-from-the-oven apple crisp, so we did the familiar closing ritual of coffee hour and told more stories and talked about the future. Enough money had come in by last weekend to offer to cover the costs for the furnaces and other repairs to make the building safe and usable for the winter. I am hoping you all have been generous enough for us to accomplish all that is needed. Jeff and Brian and some of the other folks at Calvary are working with them to restore the organ, which happens to be a very fine piece and should not be lost. I hope there are sufficient funds for that, too.

Before leaving town, Brenda (who is also the disaster relief coordinator for the county and did an absolutely incredible job organizing all of the efforts both immediately and since) and her husband Alan and son Andrew drove me around to look at everything they wanted me to see. It was heartbreaking to see the damage, especially in the trailer park where every single trailer had been under water to the roof.

As I drove out of town, the Rochester radio station was playing an instrumental version of a tune that seemed very familiar, and then I remembered, “It’s a wonderful life!” That rang true. The gospel had come alive for me in a very real way that day, with all the stories of gratitude: a lot of people have had their faith increased. Praise God!

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It is my fervent hope that if you have not yet contributed to this relief effort for Emmanuel, that you will, and also that you will get your friends to give. And if you want to volunteer for some of the clean-up in town and the rebuilding of the basement of the church, you may contact our offices to find out how you may be of help.

If you have any additional funds that are itching to do some good, the dioceses of Mississippi and Louisiana are very much in need, and the devastation is just as real and more widespread.

Thank you for whatever you can and will do.