Dear People of Christ Church,
This week I'm still thinking about all of this apocalyptical stuff; we'll continue to wrestle together with stories of beginnings and endings and crashings of heaven and earth this Sunday, when our friend Rev. Elise Feyerherm tackles "Christ the King" Sunday, always the last Sunday of the Pentecost season. Christ is a king, but a pretty different kind of one. Elise is part of organizing The Advent Project (https://www.facebook.com/sevenweekadvent), which encourages us to think about whether our four weeks currently allotted to Advent makes any sense...but she can tell you about that on Sunday.
Advent is "getting ready" time, but it's also "wake up" time. In my house, I walk into my 6 year old's room and declare "wake up" time and he grunts, rolls over and puts his head under the pillow. I think there's also a spiritual tendency to do that, too. Wake up time! Advent time! Your Savior is coming near! And instead of stopping in our tracks and opening our hands and hearts to the heavens and holy ground of our being, we roll over and hope that no one will open the curtains to let the light in. The fact is, our self-created darknesses often serve us quite well. The darkness of silence is easier when someone says something racist around us. The darkness of looking away from someone in need insulates us from having to ask why our work is compensated more fairly than theirs. Even things that aren't all that big-time "sinful," like taking those we love for granted-even those things are a way of rolling over and closing our eyes to the wonder of life.
I don't remember where it's from, but there's a CS Lewis quote somewhere about how the grass in heaven is so real it hurts to walk on it; not because God wants to cause us pain, but because it's so real. Right now, perched on the edge of Advent, we have an opportunity to go through this "holiday season" a little differently. We haven't yet experienced the full-on assault of Santa in every window. We haven't yet fallen down the rabbit hole of trying to stuff every longing for depth and joy with shiny things. Fun is fun. I have no problem with that. I just wonder what it would be like if we could also find joy in feeding the hungry as well as feeding our hungers. What if the really real could also be really joyful?
Where are you finding joy this almost-Advent?
What helps you to wake up? To slow down?
Check out this great Advent Calendar from my friend and colleague the Rev. Thomas Mousin:
http://thomasmousin.files.wordpress.com/2013/11/2013-advent-calendar.pdf
And check out the Advent Conspiracy while you're at it: http://www.adventconspiracy.org/
And ways to "Green" your Advent with a sustainability calendar
http://www.bu.edu/chapel/life/sustainable-advent-project/
Blessings, Sara+
Friday, November 22, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Church: find your way
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, of course, I'm thinking about Marcia Luce, who died last Friday. It was definitely a first when during our children's sermon on Sunday it was the priest who burst into tears and not a worried toddler who didn't want to go sit at the front of the church! She will be missed, and even though it's been almost a week now, somehow it was only the experience on Sunday of having to deliver the news that made it real. Marcia was senior warden when I came to Christ Church eight years ago, and was such a great source of support and counsel. She was also always the first to tell me I'd done something wrong, but always in the context of such rapid forgiveness that it was nothing short of holy.
In planning for the burial on Sunday, I've been so struck by what a blessing it is to be a truly multigenerational community. Other than in our own families, there are few places in this world in which the very young and the very old are in relationship with each other, and even fewer where we believe all of us to be equals. Every time I meet with a family to talk about baptizing a baby, I emphasize that their child will never be more of a Christian, never more included, never more important, than on that day of their baptism-and never less, either. When we say we are brothers and sisters in Christ, we mean it: the transcendence of the God who brings us all together also enables us to transcend all those differences. This is not to say that we all need the same thing in the community, but it is to say that we need each other.
There are so many dividing lines in the world-whenever we meet someone our tendency is immediately to put them in a category. There's nothing wrong with the categories in themselves: being gay or being from Waltham instead of San Francisco or being young or old are all part of how we understand ourselves. But Christian community also teaches us that while we can identify with those categories, we are still bound to each other in other ways. This is a profoundly radical way of being in the world. If we really know one another across these differences, it's much harder to dismiss each others' concerns. Even if you don't have a kid in church, you can probably see how hiring a part time director of religious education-and even increasing your pledge a teensy bit to try to help pay for it!-is food for your faith. Even if the crazy-time children's sermon drives you bonkers, you can see how asking questions in a different way might teach everyone something. You might be too much of an introvert to enjoy parish dinners, but you also might sneakily donate something to the silent auction to support the cause. Being part of a community isn't about getting your way, it's about finding your way.
So in the meantime, pray for me, as I prepare for Saturday-and pray for each other, in thanksgiving for the grace that leads you together.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, of course, I'm thinking about Marcia Luce, who died last Friday. It was definitely a first when during our children's sermon on Sunday it was the priest who burst into tears and not a worried toddler who didn't want to go sit at the front of the church! She will be missed, and even though it's been almost a week now, somehow it was only the experience on Sunday of having to deliver the news that made it real. Marcia was senior warden when I came to Christ Church eight years ago, and was such a great source of support and counsel. She was also always the first to tell me I'd done something wrong, but always in the context of such rapid forgiveness that it was nothing short of holy.
In planning for the burial on Sunday, I've been so struck by what a blessing it is to be a truly multigenerational community. Other than in our own families, there are few places in this world in which the very young and the very old are in relationship with each other, and even fewer where we believe all of us to be equals. Every time I meet with a family to talk about baptizing a baby, I emphasize that their child will never be more of a Christian, never more included, never more important, than on that day of their baptism-and never less, either. When we say we are brothers and sisters in Christ, we mean it: the transcendence of the God who brings us all together also enables us to transcend all those differences. This is not to say that we all need the same thing in the community, but it is to say that we need each other.
There are so many dividing lines in the world-whenever we meet someone our tendency is immediately to put them in a category. There's nothing wrong with the categories in themselves: being gay or being from Waltham instead of San Francisco or being young or old are all part of how we understand ourselves. But Christian community also teaches us that while we can identify with those categories, we are still bound to each other in other ways. This is a profoundly radical way of being in the world. If we really know one another across these differences, it's much harder to dismiss each others' concerns. Even if you don't have a kid in church, you can probably see how hiring a part time director of religious education-and even increasing your pledge a teensy bit to try to help pay for it!-is food for your faith. Even if the crazy-time children's sermon drives you bonkers, you can see how asking questions in a different way might teach everyone something. You might be too much of an introvert to enjoy parish dinners, but you also might sneakily donate something to the silent auction to support the cause. Being part of a community isn't about getting your way, it's about finding your way.
So in the meantime, pray for me, as I prepare for Saturday-and pray for each other, in thanksgiving for the grace that leads you together.
Blessings,
Sara+
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