The Apostle Paul taught the church, “Let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together as some is the habit of some, but encouraging one another…” (Hebrews 10:24). Friends, our community has experienced pandemic and now flood together. Some would say these are Biblical events. While that may be true, what we have learned here at John Clarke Senior Living is how to build community – especially when things are hard.

During the recent flood in the Independent Living portion of the building (when a sprinkler pipe broke) the community building skills we learned through Covid were apparent in our response. Our residents responded quickly helping one another, contacting the appropriate agencies, and notifying our leadership team. Most importantly, residents, first responders and our staff worked collaboratively to make sure every resident was safe. Many residents needed to be relocated to a nearby hotel which was successfully accomplished by a whole team effort. The process of moving residents to safe housing while the apartments are renovated, and the building is repaired has been an inspiring sight.

In the middle of that momentous task, life continues at John Clarke. We continue to provoke one another to love and good deed and encouraging one another. One morning there was a case of freshly picked strawberries waiting in my office. Our Chaplain’s Cupboard community food shelf continues to regenerate itself daily. Pies and goodies are baked and shared among neighbors. Memorials are still planned and observed. And, the return of summer concerts and outdoor activities has blossomed this year as residents are able to gather safely outside.

The act of continuing to meet with each other, weekly worship and study, our newcomers’ welcome events, summer concerts, coffee hours are the scaffolding that builds relationships in communities. These activities are anchors to our hope in each other as we provoke one another to love and good deeds while encouraging one another. May God continue to be with our community and continue to provoke us to love – even when events are difficult.

In Peace, Chaplain Ray

Chaplain’s Corner

Lenten Morning Prayer

God, our liberator,

Free us from the chains of selfishness

And the false idols of materialism.

Move us to show regard for the lowly,

Advocate for the voiceless,

And rescue victims from their oppressors.

Remove the grind of poverty

by opening our hearts and minds to your Gospel message to love our neighbor.

Awaken our desires with the gifts of your Spirit,

so your justice may be fulfilled.

In Christ, we make this prayer.

~William Purcell, ’86, ’92 MDiv, Notre Dame University Center for Social Concerns

As we draw close to the Spiritual simplicity and humility of Lent, I am reminded of this Scripture:

“Come, you who are blessed by my Father, take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink. I was a stranger and you invited me in. I needed clothes and you clothed me. I was sick and you looked after me. I was in prison and you came to visit me” from Matthew 25.

It is clear to see our work as frontline caregivers in this text from the Gospel. This is the heart of our mission to love our neighbors and care for our community with dignity, compassion, and respect. The Lenten prayer (above) comes from the campus of Notre Dame University where staff and students published a book of prayers through the Office of Campus Ministry

in 2010.  The work of a Chaplain, whether in a care facility, campus or prison, is to be a Spiritual and Moral presence through difficult times.  One of the tools of the trade is keeping  our Liturgical traditions; remembering to mind the cycle of the church year.  These annual cycles help keep us grounded in rituals that remind us that God is with us—past, present, and future—even through challenging times.  And prayer is the binding thread that sews the seemingly separate events and people together.

There are times in our caregiving when providing foo, drink, hospitality, clothing, and visitation is the most visceral way to show our love to one another.  And there are other times, when the physical presence is not possible, when prayer is the MOST we can do.  Throughout the pandemic, we have not always been together in physical ways providing food, drink, hospitality, clothing and visitation and in those difficult times of distanced relations our best offering is the gift of prayer.

Friends and family, continue to pray for our residents.  As we gain access to vaccination and navigate our next phases of community, pray for advocacy for the voiceless, food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty, invitation to the stranger, clothing to the needy, care for the sick and visitation.  In Christ, we make this prayer.

Racquel R. Ray, MDiv

Chaplain

Online Activities

The American Baptist Church of Rhode Island is offering weekly Lenten Devotionals on-line. Subscribe to the weekly email at Elder Care Ministries http://eldercare.abcori.org/lenten-resources.html

Age Friendly Rhode Island is offering a Virtual Community Center! The site is loaded with activities for seniors that are safe and socially distant. Engage online at Age-Friendly Rhode Island | Ways to support Rhode Islanders as they age (agefriendlyri.org)

In Person Activities

Fireside Chats with the Chaplain. Thursdays 2-4, Chaplain’s Office. Come sit by the ‘fire’ and have a chat. Warm beverages provided! (excluding Thursday March 25^th due to Memorial Service)

Bible Study. Fridays 2-3, Chapel. A wonderful way to wind down the week. This is a casual conversation about scripture and how it impacts us. Books provided. All denominations and biblical knowledge levels welcome!

Communion Service. Sundays 3:15pm in Nursing Center, 4pm in the Chapel. Ecumenical service is welcoming to all denominations. Service includes prayer, scripture, short homily. Covid-safe individually wrapped, sterile, single use, Communion elements are distributed with safety protocols in place.

Memorial Service. Thursday March 25, 10am Chapel, 2pm Nursing Center. Join Chaplain and Staff as we remember those we have lost over the past few months. Also available via Zoom. rray@jcrcri.org

Chaplain’s Corner

I recall last year my seminary classmates joked that last Lent was the “Lentiest Lent” they had ever seen.  As our field work internships were cancelled, senior trip to Canterbury England cancelled, campus closed, and Commencement cancelled, we went our separate ways without a ceremony or goodbyes.  Each emerging minister called to their own new role alone.  I felt called to be alongside this community through the COVID pandemic.  To accompany seniors in the uncertainty of this past year and beyond.

I feel that we haven’t really left last Lent.  Remember many churches closed to in-person worship during Lent and many did not celebrate Easter.  We seem to still be, Spiritually, in the liminal space of Holy Saturday still waiting for the sunrise of Easter morning.  Over the year, we have been witness to such unbearable suffering that it seems even the early itself would cry out.

We have all been directly effected and affected by the COVID 19 virus.  At the beginning of the virus, we prayed for one John Clarke family who had a relative who had been exposed to the virus.  Throughout the year, the virus has come closer and closer in increasing numbers.  It has directly effected members of the community.  Those of us who have not contracted the virus are living with the weekly stress of the testing results, the worry over loved ones, and the dread of knowing the danger we face.  Our recent first day of vaccinations was a day of mixed emotions.  I was both relieved to be among one of the world’s privileged first few to receive the first dose and keenly aware of that privilege.  I am keenly aware that my children and spouse do not have such privilege.  I am sorry that our independent residents are also still waiting for their vaccinations.  I join with in the many ways the world is grieving.

Lent is traditionally a season of prayer, scripture reading, and sacrificial giving.  I wonder if our nations has any energy left for one more prayer, another page of scripture, or giving up anything else?!  Haven’t we all had a year’s worth of Lent already?!

This year, during the 40 days of Lent from February 17th to Easter on April 4th (Sundays are excluded from the 40-day count)  I plan to NOT give up anything.  Instead, I plan on sharing with others the gift of time.  In that light please join me for Ashes to Go in the Chapel on February 17th from 8am-10am.  And for Soup to Go every Friday afternoon in the Chapel Kitchen from 3pm-4pm through Lent.

Fireside Chats with the Chaplain will continue on Thursday afternoons in the Chaplain’s office.  Friday afternoon Bible Study continues.  You will see new program inspired by the participating in the regular Sunday afternoon Chapel Communion Services, Chaplain’s Closet, will offer shelf stable food essential for any resident  who needs it for any reason.  Lastly, I will be starting an Independent Resident Advisory Council to address the needs of these community members.  I pray that YOU will share the gifts of YOUR time with ME.

Racquel R. Ray, MDiv

Chaplain

Chaplain’s Corner

Throughout this season a phrase from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol has stuck with me. A phrase used to describe Belle, Scrooge’s former fiancé as “a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life”  (Dickens, 1843). As a congregant health care community we are prepared for any scenario. But, we also embraced the joy in each day, in each activity and each celebration. As we held onto Advent and Christmas traditions (in new and safe ways) we realized that the core message in the Nativity story is unchanging. Emmanuel, God is With Us. Jesus, the Light of the World broke forth into the haggard winter, bringing spring.

In June, our book clubs read In the Bleak Midwinter by Julia Spencer-Fleming (Spencer-Flemming, 2002). In June, I wondered if we would still be struggling with the pandemic in winter? Or, if in winter we would be looking back to the difficulties of June and processing the trauma? As we continue to face the current challenging times the lyrics from the title hymn have also resonated with me throughout the season:

In the Bleak Midwinter (1872)

Lyrics by Christina Geogina Rossetti (1830-1894); Music by Gustav Holst (1874-1934)

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold him, nor earth sustain’

Heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign;

In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed

The Lord God incarnate, Jesus Christ.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;

But his mother, in her maiden bliss,

Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give him, poor as I am?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;

If I were a wise man, I would do my part;

Yet what I can I give him: give him my heart.

What I have experienced so far this winter is that the members of our community have each done their part. In the role of the midwinter wise men, each has offered their own gifts; what they have to offer. Some have offered gifts of companionship, correspondence and cards, treats and goodies, warmth and comforts. The season brought the traditional unchanging Good News of the Nativity story in the midst of the bleak midwinter. The darkest days brought the brightest lights of friendship!

As we look toward the New Year, new season, we look with anticipation toward the ‘springtime in the haggard winter’ of this difficult time. We have hope as we await the coming vaccine and the eventual resulting benefits rippling throughout our community. Though The Old Farmer’s Almanac 2021 edition (Thomas, 2021) is predicting a long winter with snow through March, we have much work to do. Our sustaining love of Christ and one another shall bring us a springtime in this haggard winter and each doing our part shall sustain our community.

Racquel R. Ray, MDiv

Chaplain

The giant Dawn Redwood tree, the Metaswquoia glyptostroboides, at Blithewold, is losing its leaves. Remember in the spring I wrote about its appearing to be dead. But, as the spring ebbed on it sprouted the most hopeful vibrant green sprigs. Right now, the tree once again – as in the early spring – looks dead. Its branches are bare, naked, brown, and pendulously sweeping in downward frowned arches swaying in tumultuous New England autumn winds. An unexperienced person would cut it down believing it to be hopeless. It mirrors our landscape both physically and figuratively. Things appear bleak right now. Where can we find hope?
That is the meaning in many of our winter rituals and carols as Christmas approaches. In the Bleak Midwinter, Silent Night, and the various festivals of lights such as Hanukkah, Yule, and Advent. We recognize the darkening days and lengthening nights while remaining expectantly hopeful. The Spiritual Care programming for this month will acknowledge this season of long dark nights by taking time to contemplate with our Taize music and prayer services, to study with our Book Club, and celebrate light with The Tree Lighting, The Advent Wreath Lighting and the Menorah Lighting.
As we await the Christmas celebration, we offer several options that remind us of the hope we have in the Nativity. The winter solstice turns our days longer and nights shorter and we begin to see the light dawning a few days before Christmas. Our hope is restored in the remembrance of Christ’s birth and the expectation of the prosperity for the coming New Year. The landscape may be bleak for now and in the weeks to come. But, we can find hope in our celebrations and in our community – together.

Racquel R. Ray, MDiv
Chaplain

I have been reading the history of the Baptist Home over the past few months. Our resident Historian, Madeline Millen, shared her scrap-book with me. I think understanding our history and learning from past lessons will help us in our current context. Our community is special. I often tell prospective residents and em-ployees that I have yet to meet a resident who expresses regret for moving in at John Clarke. Recently, a devoted family member said having his dad here was like having a weight lifted off his back. He no longer must carry dad’s safety and care alone.
What sets us apart from other care facilities, in addition to our history and foundation as a Baptist organization, is the level of dedication and compassion of our staff. Historically, this is our model. In a Journal-Bulletin article from about 1978 titled Baptist Home for Aged Run with Family Theme, that history is exemplified, “When a man and a woman who lived in adjoining rooms at the Baptist Home recently decided to get married, officials at the facility quickly de-cided who was going o live where. With the residents’ permission, they simply cut a door in the wall between the two rooms. This demonstration of flexibility and humanity is duplicated in few elderly residences anywhere.” (Gariepy, ~1978 )
When faced with challenges, the staff at John Clarke demonstrates flexibility and humanity. We asked, “What CAN be done?” and “How CAN we do it safely?” Our solutions are innova-tive and deserve recognition. Our family visits have been designed to facilitate visits safely, demonstrating both flexibility and humanity. Our small group and individual activities have been redesigned to be safe and flexible. Our care staff has found ways to keep our residents safe while practicing flexibility and humanity, even through end-of-life care. Our staff is able to pivot during challenges to find creative solutions. As we observe the holidays coming in November, let us remember to say a prayer of THANKS for our care staff. They deserve our gratitude.
We have always cared about the person-centered care; putting residents wishes in the fore-front. This is also historical. During the construction of our current building on Valley Road, Rev. M. Harry Randall the home’s administrator said, “The theme of family just governs every decision we make…If you can’t let the people live they way they’d like, then what’s the point?” We are so blessed to work and live in such a place! (Gariepy, ~1978 )
Racquel R. Ray, MDiv
Chaplain

We are now at the place in our global communities where we are all experiencing burnout and fatigue. We are tired. Author Polly Greenberg wrote a children’s book called, Lord, I Wish I Was a Buzzard (Macmillan 1968). It is illustrated by Aliki and depicts the story of a young girl who joins her family in the cotton fields to pick cotton from sun rise to sun set in the hopes of getting a lollipop. Lately, I have been reciting the refrain of the story, “Oh! Lord, we were tired.”

We must all find our own ways of managing stress, burnout, and fatigue. In the past week, I have heard no less than seven people speak about getting massages. The conversations ranged from going for massage therapy weekly to putting off prescribed massage therapy for months due to community safety concerns. In addition to massage therapy, others schedule self-care by spending time with family, getting a manicure, meditation, getting enough sleep, writing a letter, taking care of that doctor’s appointment, prayer, yoga, visiting with friends or neighbors, or just spending time away from electronics.

Lately, I have been going on hikes with my family. On a day off, we will search for a family friendly hiking trail, pack a lunch, some waters, sunscreen and bug spray and a sense of adventure. I get the benefit of heart-healthy cardio and cortisol-reducing stress relief, my kids get exercise and we all get fresh air.

Here at John Clarke, our Activities folks have been hard at work making sure our residents have opportunities to go outside. Since the first warm-ish day in April, we have been bringing folks outside; enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. We have had musical entertainment and a few cookouts. Even our family visits have brought our folks outside. Nature has been a healing balm for our residents and for me!

As the cooler weather comes, may we continue to be blessed with warm-ish days. May we continue to find new trails. May we be aware of our own fatigue and find ways to rejuvenate. May we continue find ways to connect with God, Neighbor and Self through innovation and exploration. May God continue to keep us healthy, and care for us tenderly knowing that we are all so tired.

Racquel R. Ray, MDiv

Chaplain

so amazed by how restaurants have turned parking spaces into outdoor
eating area, how schools have worked all summer to create safe re-entry
plans for students, how families have adapted to visiting virtually, and
how churches have moved to on-line programming. Some of our oldest
institutions are necessarily finding new ways of being. At John Clarke,
we have been so blessed by the innovation of our staff, our residents
and our family members!
Residents are learning how to attend Church via Zoom, Youtube, and in
person in a different way. Our Sundays begin with a ten o’clock Zoom
service with Warwick Central Baptist. Several Nursing Residents join me
in the dining room to watch church and join my terrible singing. I offer
an iPad to residents whose church Service is prerecorded on Youtube
with First Baptist and others. At three o’clock, independent residents
join myself and Rev. Dr. Cynthia Smothers in the Chapel where we Zoom
a short but sincere service to the dining room where nursing residents
gather to watch. We share Communion during this service using sterile
single-use Communion cups while following strictest precautions of
sanitization, masks, and social distance. This service will continue
in September but will move to four o’clock on Sunday afternoons in
keeping with John Clarke tradition.
Our families have been amazing and so supportive of our efforts to
keep residents safe. They have adapted to visitations through partition,
temperature screening, and following State of Rhode Island guidelines
without fault or complaint. It is very difficult to visit with loved ones
without hugs! And yet, all of our folks have complied and kept our
residents and staff safe.
All of this work takes the dedication and innovation of an amazing
and dauntless staff. Inter-departmental support is a culture at John
Clarke; Nursing, Activities, Spiritual Care, Dietary, Social Services, and
Administration all have found new ways of collaborating and making
sure our residents are both active and safe.
I see innovation and new creative ways of being, thinking and doing
‘old’ things as a gift from God. After all, God is the original creator and
has endued us with the gifts of co-creation and creativity. When we find
new ideas, innovative solutions and creative answers especially when
working collaboratively and for the service of others we are doing God’s
work. We are the hands, feet, mouths, eyes, and ears on earth serving
our neighbors. May God continue to gift us with new ideas!

Moral Distress is a term used to describe the spiritual, emotional,
psychological, and physiological trauma incurred when we experience
morally difficult situations. Military personnel are familiar with this
condition as it sometimes referred to as Military Trauma. It results from
the disparity caused when we are unable to do, through circumstances
out of our control, what morally we feel we ought to do. Many of us are
experiencing moral distress as the current pandemic continues. In an
article from Provider magazine, Amy Stewart, MSN, RN, SNS-MT writes,
“Nursing staff are especially susceptible to moral distress. Not only are
they on the frontline of the response, but the impossible choices that
the constraints they are experiencing impose undermine the core values
of a caring profession.” (Amy Stewart, 2020)
Nursing staff is not alone in this trauma. We are all experiencing some
form of distress over the past four months. Our lives are disrupted. Many
of us have lost jobs and income. Our roles have changed from working in
an office to working from home – and teaching school aged kids. Many
of us have lost loved ones. And many of us are worried about loved ones
with underlying health issues. And what we feel is morally right is not
always safe or possible with the current Covid restrictions. Our fears and
anxieties are mixed with disappointments and depressions. It is a tough
time.
Recently, I have seen an increase in social hostility. Folks that are usually
cheerful and pleasant can be cranky. Folks have expressed a sense of
hopelessness or just exasperation over the wondering of when this
will end. I am concerned about mental and spiritual wellness. Do you
remember the old analogy about putting pressure on a balloon? When
the balloon experiences too much pressure, it blows out somewhere. We
cannot predict where. Some days we are like the balloons.
Where can we find hope? How is resiliency possible right now? How can
we manage the pressure of moral distress, hopelessness, anxiety, and all
that each of us holds? How can we keep from exploding like pressurized
balloons? We can help and support each other. We can be kind. We can
remember for what we are grateful. We can self-care as well as care for
our neighbors. We can remember that we are Beloved children of God. And remember that this too shall pass.

I’m so sorry. That is what we often say when we acknowledge the pain
and suffering of others, especially when there is nothing more that we
can say to bring comfort. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you are experiencing such
a difficult time. In these trying weeks of 2020, I find myself saying “I’m
sorry” often. We are all experiencing pain and suffering. We are in the
middle of a traumatic cultural event that will forever change our lives. And,
I’m sorry. We’re at the point were our children, grandchildren and greatgrandchildren
cannot avoid being effected by the news and our adult
conversations about current events. My own children are upset about
covid and about communities in protest. Their lives are forever changed.
And, I’m sorry. As our fellow citizens protest in our cities, marginalized
populations are further exposed to the virus, are at greater risk of
contracting the illness, and not receiving equitable healthcare. And, I’m
sorry. As communities try to reopen and previously [not quite] flattened
curves begin to spike hospital staff are once again overrun, over worked,
under supplied and understaffed. And I’m sorry. Nursing Home residents
have been in isolation since March while missing worried loved ones and
we cannot risk the health of our residents. And, I’m so sorry. Parents
of young children are finishing the school year wondering if distance
learning was adequate for their kids and did they learn anything. And,
I’m sorry. Seniors from High Schools and Colleges – our children, grands
and greats graduated without spectators and celebrations, without
gatherings and gifts, without feasts and festivities. And, I’m sorry. I truly
am so sorry that we are experiencing such a difficult time, and someone
just ought to tell you, “I’m sorry”.
A Chaplain’s role is to meet others in the difficult time and help them find
a way through it. I’m here for you. I’m here to help; to listen; to talk; to
pray. My daily goal is to make a difference. The weekend Activities team
has a daily goal of making a difference. Each evening as we finish our
paperwork, after passing out the final refreshments and tidying up all
the materials we have used throughout the day, we ask ourselves, “Did
we make a difference?” We share stories of someone’s smile, a laugh,
the joy of a family member on a video call, the peace of a resident, the
motivation of our medical staff, the dedication of our food services staff,
and the creative energy of our Activities staff. I’m sorry that we are
experiencing such difficult weeks. But, know that myself and our entire
staff are working to make a difference every day; to find a way through
the difficult. Together, as a community, we are working our way through
a challenging reality, making a difference every day!

Last month I wrote to you about the Dawn Redwood tree at Blithewold
Mansion in Bristol. The tree is now covered with verdant chartreuse
sprouting leaf tips. The tree is smiling with new life; new beginnings in
this new cycle of seasons.
As spring draws on, finally, we too are in a new season. Everything
seems to have changed. Even they way we worship, gather in
community, and observe rituals has changed. For some, even our faith
has been shaken to its core. It has been a long, difficult winter. My
role as a chaplain is to meet others in the middle of the difficult times
– those times when our faith is shaken to its core. Chaplains are able
to meet and honor the sacredness of the ‘winter seasons’ and help
find verdant paths to spring. We are pastors of options. We walk with
others until they find the way to a new beginning.
As our communities begin to re-open we do so knowing that things
have changed. We have experienced great loss and grief. We have
found inner strength and perseverance that we may not have known
we possessed. We have found new ways to be physically distant and
yet socially close with our loved ones and neighbors. Like the verdant
Redwood, we are emerging anew with a resilience of life.

Chaplain’s Corner
The John Clarke Retirement Center would like to welcome Raquel Ray, our new
chaplain to the team. She wrote this message of hope to the residents, tenants and
families.
Each morning that I drive to the John Clark Retirement Center I pass the Blithewold
mansion in Bristol with its towering, ancient Dawn Redwood tree. This particular
tree at Blithewold is fairly young, only planted in 1971. But the Metasequoia
glyptostroboides cultivar is a deciduous conifer tree that saw the dinosaurs. Right now,
the tree looks dead. Its branches are bare, naked, brown, and pendulously sweeping
in downward frowned arches swaying in tumultuous New England spring winds. An
unexperienced person would cut down believing it to be hopeless.
Our current society looks bleak also, mirroring the frowning branches of the redwood.
We are swaying with the winds of difficult news, messages of endless struggles and
challenges ahead. We worry about loved ones, finances, health, safety, and our future.
Each day the dawn redwood slowly begins to sprout as it has done since the dinosaur
age. The tree knows the biological secret to its longevity is a deliberate pace. It takes
its time. I see hope in its daily increase, albeit ever so slowly. There is daily progress.
From dormancy to vibrancy the tree will lead us.
By Racquel

I’ve always kind of felt sorry for March.

January is “Woohoo! New Year!” February is proof that a new year really has arrived. April has those tantalizing hints of Spring. And May—well, May is just gorgeous. June,
of course, is splendid in its own right.

July is for barbeques! And all things outside. August? August is the first moment in each year when we give thanks. For those wonderful people who brought us air conditioning.

September feels like it’s actually the start of the year. There are new programs for everything under the sun, and learners everywhere are delighted by, or in dread of, a new season of classes. (And, speaking of seasons, Football!)

October. You just want to spread your arms and wrap all that glorious color around you and take it home with you. November kicks off The Holidays. And December? December takes care of itself. There’s no other month like it.

Then, there’s March. The year is well under way, fresh blooms are a ways off and all we can really do is hope Punxsutawney Phil was right (this year). Not taking anything away from St. Patrick or St. Joseph but, on the whole, March just seems like a fourand-a-half week waiting game. An in-betweener.

Which means . . . You can make it whatever you want.

When I was learning to drive, my father told me always to remember that I had as much right to be on the road as anybody else.

That was excellent advice. When you’re first starting out at something, there’s a tendency to feel like you’re not worthy. To hear that you are is very helpful, indeed.

There really was a St. Valentine, and he made it his work to let all around him know they were worthy as well. Living in the third century near Rome, he tended to the persecuted and to those on the margins.

He showed love to these people. He was martyred on the 14th of February.

How this sort of love got connected with the romantic kind remains unclear. It seems to involve reinterpretations of an old Roman fertility festival at about the same time on the calendar along with a 13th century poem by Geoffrey Chaucer.

Whatever your take on it, the middle of winter is a good time to be reminded that we are worthy. We are all worthy of respect, of care, and of love.

We seek to show that respect, love and care at John Clarke. In each new day, we look to see what others need, and what might make their lives a little fuller. Because all are worthy.

And remember, that includes you.