Martin Luther King Day, Inauguration

This week my thoughts and prayers are with our president.

Watching the inauguration Tuesday was incredible-even more so was looking at the faces of the other people who were also watching. I watched it on CNN.com, and the shots of the faces of the crowd were more moving than the words that anyone spoke.  

On Sunday, we heard stories about vocation in our Scriptures. I was reflecting with you about how it seems like our nation is living into the vocation it set for itself at its founding, as a place of freedom and equality. 

And in Martin Luther King week no less-about 45 people gathered for the Waltham Interfaith Service on Sunday (for a link to the article in the Tribune and a photo of our own Otho Kerr, see below) and we heard prayers and thanksgivings for King's work.  At our education forum on Sunday, Norm Faramelli shared part of King's "I have a dream" speech (the part we don't hear as often): 

In a sense we've come to our nation's capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the "unalienable Rights" of "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note, insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked "insufficient funds."

There is still so far to go in the cause for equality for everyone-racism is a sin that we are still susceptible to-but our new president is a sign of a promise that many of us never thought we'd see in our lifetime. So much work has been done, by Dr King and the civil rights movement, by those before him and those who went after, to make this moment possible.  The poet Elizabeth Alexander's Praise Song articulated how each small movement of "repairing the things in need of repair" is part of the praise of the day, but also worthy of praise in itself.  She read,

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.. . . What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance. . .  In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

Our country has a hard task ahead of itself-inequality continues in so many ways, and war and economic anxiety threaten us all. Jobs have been lost, retirements postponed, illnesses gone untreated. But today, as Alexander said, "Anything can be made, any sentence begun." 

What is the sentence we are beginning to speak? With our tongues, with our lives?  President Obama spoke of the call to service, giving to our community.  For the Christian, that is nothing new; the recognition that we don't live for ourselves is part of the fabric of our faith.  What is interesting about now is how that dialogue is happening in a national way. I saw an ad for Starbucks today promising me a free cup of coffee to pledge 5 hours of volunteering time. (What would be really interesting is if Starbucks pledged to pay every single one of their coffee growers and sellers a living wage!) 

Good for Starbucks-but even better for those who, like many of you, have served and will continue to do so.  But it's as good a time as any to ask the question-how will we be changed by this new day (if in fact it is one, and I do think it is)?  How will we serve? How will we celebrate? How will we live?  How will we help to redeem that bad check that Dr King talked about, to examine and repent for the sins of prejudice that wound?  How will the "sharp sparkle of today" give birth to a wider generosity tomorrow?  

from Jan. 15: Membership

There is a lot going on at our community in the next few weeks, so I’d like to use this space to draw your attention to what’s coming up:

This Sunday: 9 am; Membership, Stewardship, Apostleship. What does it mean to be a member of Christ Church? To be an Episcopalian? Is there a difference? Is it important?

This Sunday, 11:15 am: We tend to remember Martin Luther King as a secular leader, but it was his Christian faith and understanding of the Gospel that gave orientation to his life and teaching. The Rev. Norm Faramelli, longtime friend of Christ Church and professor of ethics at Boston University, will speak.

Monday, Jan 19, 7 pm: Waltham Community Interfaith Service in Honor of Dr. King. At Covenant Congregational Church (375 Lexington Street)

Sunday, Jan. 25

            Holy Eucharist, 9:30 am: One service! (not our usual 8 & 10)

            Annual Meeting, 10:30 am

            Potluck Lunch, 11:30 am: We meet every year as a congregation to reflect on our ministries from the year and elect our leadership. We’ll hear brief reports from parish leaders and have time to ask questions. This year, we’re bringing back an old tradition of having official voting members of the parish sign in to the meeting. The book you’ll sign contains signatures of voting members of our parish all the way back to 1892!  (The most recent entries are from 1972 and 1988, so we have some catching up to do)  All pledging members who are over 16 years of age and acknowledge the Constitution and By-laws of the parish and have been regular in worship for the preceding twelve months are entitled to vote.  I won’t be standing at the door with the pledge records, but I do hope that if you haven’t yet made your pledge, you’ll take this as a nudge.

 Sunday, Feb. 1, 10:00 am: Welcome of new members and commissioning of new vestry. We are taking the renewal of the book signing  as an opportunity to officially welcome all those who have transferred their confirmation from other congregations, so we’ll do that as well.

 In one sense, all these questions of belonging or membership are sort of abstract. The parish where I was assistant rector for a year before coming to Christ Church had a policy of “open membership”—whoever happened to be in the building at any moment was a member at that time. The idea was to be less threatening, to say, as the church’s banner outside read,  “Welcome, wherever you are on your spiritual journey.” For some, it was a gift of peace—to others, it compounded an already deep sense of rootlessness so common in our culture. I think we can find some space in the middle, though. Our first identity before all others is as a beloved child of God—wherever and however we go in our life, that is the main truth of our createdness. But our commitments shape us, too, and commitments to particular places and traditions can be life-giving as well. When we make a promise (whether in a marriage, or in baptism, or to a church), we are saying to God, “Thank you. You have allowed me consider all of these other choices. I’m returning those choices to you now, and I’m choosing to go to this place and grow with you here.”

 We could all be somewhere else—somewhere flashier, or less creaky, or with a better organ. But we have chosen to be here. We have been called to make our life in this place together, because in some mystical and ordinary way, God has called us here to make a life together.  I’m glad we’ve found our way here together. 

Epiphany

Epiphany blessings!
It’s great to be back with you after our week away. I had a wonderful time visiting with in-laws in Arizona. I’ve never really traveled in the Southwest, and it was so restoring to be in a landscape so utterly different from what I’m used to. But it also felt so good to be back at our altar on Sunday.

On Tuesday, we observed the feast of the Epiphany. As I wrote in my piece for the Fieldstone Crier (which you’ll receive either today via email or on Saturday in the mail), Epiphany is about vocation—listening for God’s call to healing and wholeness, listening to where we are called to go and what star we are invited to follow. Our Gospels for the season have Jesus expelling demons and restoring people to (and calling people into) community—Epiphany reminds us that we aren’t traveling alone.

This week, I invite you to take some Epiphany time. What do you need to get you to Jesus? I’m not one for new year’s resolutions much myself (maybe I’m just not very ambitious), but I do try to be aware of where I’m going, and what I need to get me there. What I need is what most of us do—food, water, quiet, focus. I’ve got plenty of the first two, and it seems never enough of the latter. But there’s always another day, another season, to look for them. The resurrection is a promise that not even death can have the last word over us—God has the last word, and it’s in God’s time that I’ll come to see “face to face,” as Paul writes to the Corinthians. So for now, we look, pray, hope, day after day, year after year, following that Epiphany Star, looking for our Savior.

From Dec. 23: Christmas Eve Eve

I hope you are having a joyful Eve of Christmas Eve, and that we’ll see you tomorrow for our service at 7:00. Our Christmas celebrations began early with our fabulous pageant on Sunday. Even after three days of snow, we experienced the Christmas story enacted with gusto by the children of Christ Church and St Peter’s Ugandan Anglican Church who worship here on Sundays. I even got to have Isaiah with me at the altar, as he (being astonishingly calm) followed behind me as we celebrated the Eucharist. The script was funny (and biblically accurate), the costumes were fantastic, and the supporting cast of adults did a great job! Many thanks to Jonathan Duce, our director, and Alison Lasiewski and her family, who made a great holy family of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. See www.christchurchwaltham.org to see pictures.

We trudged through the snow back to church at 4:30 for Christingle, also a great event (if a bit smaller than we’d initially hoped, given the weather). A Christingle is an orange, representing the world, with a ribbon circling round, representing the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Four toothpicks with candy on them represent the good gifts of creation (twelve candies and raisins representing the 12 apostles) and the love of God spreading in the four directions. Nothing is outside the reach of God! We sang and enjoyed the choir from St Peter’s, we ate delicious food, and sang Silent Night as the light of Christ (symbolized by our candles in the Christingle oranges) spread through the church and through our lives.

This afternoon, I invite you to a quick moment of prayer and silence before the guests arrive for dinner, before the presents get opened, before the rush carries us away. Here’s a psalm from today’s service for Morning Prayer:

Psalm 67
1 May God be merciful to us and bless us,
show us the light of his countenance and come to us.
2 Let your ways be known upon earth, *
your saving health among all nations.
3 Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.
4 Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, *
for you judge the peoples with equity
and guide all the nations upon earth.
5 Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.
6 The earth has brought forth her increase; *
may God, our own God, give us his blessing.
7 May God give us his blessing, *
and may all the ends of the earth stand in awe of him.

Let us receive God’s blessing, and stand in awe.

From Dec. 17: The Presiding Bishop's Christmas Message

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it (John 1:5).

The world settles into winter, at least in the northern hemisphere, and life to many seems increasingly bleak. Foreclosures, layoffs, government bailouts and financial failures, continuing war on two fronts, terrorist attacks, murders of some identified only by their faith -- this world is in abundant need of light. We know light that is not overcome by darkness, for God has come among us in human flesh. Born in poverty to a homeless couple, to a people long under occupation, Jesus is human and divine evidence that God is with us in the midst of the world's darkness. Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, Divine Counselor is come among us to re-mind, re-member, and re-create. A new mind and heart is birthed in us as we turn to follow Jesus on the way. The body of God's creation is re-membered and put back together in ways intended from the beginning. And a new creation becomes reality through Jesus' healing work. Christians tell the story again each Christmastide, and the telling and remembering invites us once again into being made whole. Our task in every year is to hear the story with new ears, and seeing light in the darkness of this season's woes, then to tell it abroad with gladsome hearts to those who wait in darkness. Where will you share the joyous tale of light in the darkness?
The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori
Presiding Bishop
The Episcopal Church

From Dec. 10: Advent

Christmas will be here in two weeks.
[take a breath]
I was commenting to someone recently that it usually takes me about 2 weeks of Advent to realize that it actually is Advent—somehow Christmas always seems to come so suddenly. No wonder the readings leading up to Advent all talk about the need to keep awake! But somehow every year, I’m never awake quite enough until about halfway through.

It’s Advent—a season of preparation, hope, anticipation. We still use purple liturgically, linking it to the penitential sense of Lent, but a more optimistic blue is increasingly popular with our protestant sisters and brothers. But you don’t need it to be December to feel hopeful. Our church year repeats itself in miniature in our lives. We’ve all had the experience of Good Friday in the height of Pentecost, and we’ve all experienced tiny Easters in the depths of Lent. Our church year leads us intentionally through a cycle of spiritual experience that we might go through in the cycle of just one day.

The medieval mystic Bernard of Clairvaux talks about how there are actually three advents—two visible, and one invisible. The first advent is the one we always think of—the advent of Jesus the Christ child, born of Mary. The third is the one we look toward at the end of days—as the Eucharistic prayer has it, “we proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” The second advent is in the middle, in our own lives, right now. Christ is coming today! In Advent, we turn our attention to preparing, and waiting, but it’s preparation and waiting for Christ who is NOW as well as Christ who is coming. The very technological theologian way of saying it is “already not yet.” Just as with the Trinity we have to forget out to count (1+1+1=1, not 3), with Advent we have to forget to tell time.

Here and now, though, time goes forward, forward, forward, no matter what I do.
It’s already Thursday of the second week of the month and we’re still working on the parish newsletter. In the midst of getting anxious about it this morning I paused for morning prayer online—I like the missionstclare.com website for the Daily Office—and I snapped out of it (for the moment, at least).

Christmas is coming, God is present. Christ has been, will be, and is, right here and right now: whether or not our work is finished, whether we’ve had enough sleep, whether the dishes are done. Thanks be to God, alleluia, alleluia.