Ginny Wilder
Dear All Souls Family,
The first semester back at Virginia Theological Seminary after the summer break has been a wild ride. New classes, new students, new obstacles, new Field Education parish—and that is just to name a few “new” items that this year brings. I wanted to tell you how grateful I am for your prayers and continued support during my time in seminary. Having that connection goes a long way when I am pulling an all-nighter writing a paper or when this campus feels a little lonely—I know that my church family back at All Souls Cathedral is holding me in their prayers.
As many of you have heard we lost our chapel on October 22, 2010 to a fire. Our chapel was a not only the place where we worshipped collectively, but a place many of us sought out just to be still, to sit quietly, to play the piano or to gaze at the lovely stained glass windows. The chapel contained 128 years of prayers, songs, sermons and has left its imprint on the souls of hundreds of Episcopal priests. It has been a great loss not only for our current student body, faculty and staff, but for many alumni who stared every day at the inscription over the altar that read, “Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel.” Even though the inscription is gone, the charge and the responsibility is still very much a part of our daily worship and life on campus.
Walking by the charred remains, the boarded up sides where windows once glistened in the sun, I am reminded of a memory from my childhood. I was born and raised in Summerville, South Carolina and was in my junior year of high school when Hurricane Hugo came knocking on our doors. The devastation was indescribable. Trees that had been there longer than the town itself were knocked down, twisted, mangled and splintered. Homes were unrecognizable; neighbors were walking around in a state of disbelief the morning after the very long night. We knew that life was never going to be the same again. Our foundation was rocked by the winds, our hope was drenched by the rain and our faith seemed so small in comparison to the 100-plus year-old pine trees that landed on our roofs and lawns.
As time went on, the trees were removed, lives returned to a sense of normalcy and we made repairs to our homes. The initial impact of the hurricane was diminishing every day but there were still some visible signs of the drama and trauma left in Hugo’s wake. As we made our way through the calendar months we soon came to Christmas Eve. While we were sitting in the church- St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Summerville South Carolina on that Christmas Eve, something very strange began to happen outside. Snow. It was snowing. It was snowing in the low country. And it was coming down and sticking.
It continued to snow throughout the night and on Christmas Day, 1989 Summerville was treated to a White Christmas. For this one day we were able to look around and be amazed by the awesomeness of nature, by the gentleness of weather and be reminded that God is indeed very good. The ugliness of fallen trees and altered landscapes had been replaced by the beauty and mystery and artistry of God our Creator. It was like healing balm for our souls and hearts. It was exactly what we needed—we were filled with joy again.
Life will return to normal. We have continued to worship as a body and from my perspective our worship has taken on a deeper more intentional feeling than one experienced before the fire. We are doing more with less as far as physical space goes but we are opening our hearts up to be the true dwelling place of the Holy Spirit in our worship. The chapel went up in fire on Friday, October 22 at 4:15 p.m. and at 5:00 p.m. that afternoon the church gathered in Scott Lounge to worship and to begin the long process of mourning, grieving and ultimately healing.
Hope and faith are very much alive here on campus. Frequently the words from Isaiah come to mine, “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” This experience has taught us and formed us in many ways. Some of those ways we are aware of now and some of those ways will be unveiled to us as we continue to move, live and heal.
Thank you again for your continued prayers. I do pray that this Advent season finds you watching and waiting with great anticipation while preparing a manger within your heart for Christ to dwell.
In Peace,
Ginny Wilder