At the meeting of ministers on Tuesday, I heard several of the ministers talk about September in a tone of voice you might use when talking about implacable forces of nature. “Not a chance, not in September.” “Well, you know, it’s September.” Churches are busy in September — at least, liberal churches in this part of the world are busy in September. There’s no good reason for our churches to be so busy in this month, but they always are.

I know from experience that if you get behind in September, you won’t catch up again until after Christmas. I’ve already fallen behind this year. Our Director of Religious Education resigned a week and a half ago, and that put us behind schedule. I’m officiating at two memorial services over the next week and a half, and that has put me further behind. I’ve already had to give up several non-essential projects and plans.

But I haven’t given up the Wednesday morning work parties we have scheduled. Four other people showed up at ten this morning, and we all went out into the garden. It was a gorgeous late summer morning. We pulled weeds, we spruced up the gravel path by the front door to the church, we enjoyed the sun, chatted with each other, and drank strong coffee.

I suppose I should have been sitting indoors staring at a computer screen or talking to a disembodied voice on the telephone, feeling the stress build up in my body. But feminist theology has long warned us that being disembodied, being out of touch with our bodies, forces us to ignore something essential about what it means to be human. In which case, hands-on physical labor outdoors with other people makes more theological sense, than staring at a computer screen does.