Dear People of Christ Church,
As I do every so often, this morning I was with the Sisters of Saint Anne in Arlington, saying Mass for the convent. Our Gospel was the story of Lazarus and the rich man-Lazarus who suffered at the gate of the rich man's house, poor and begging, and the rich man, who after death found himself in burning flames while Lazarus and Abraham snuggled together in heaven. As I wrote last week, I'm pretty agnostic about an individual "Big Bad" (i.e., Satan/the devil) but I do believe that there must be some sense of wholeness and restoration for us in the passage from life to death, and that must certainly include a sense of sharing in the suffering that we've inflicted.
Let me explain a little more.
I don't think that everything is unicorns and fluffy clouds after we die. Even for the purest in heart, our puny minds can't even imagine how grace-filled and beautiful it is to be united with God. I think we are fully known-that we will see "face to face" (1 Corinthians 13.12) and know as we have been fully known. As we are known, now-then we will know. And part of that knowing surely must be how we are linked to others, how the suffering of one person hurts us all. In our life together now, we hide those connections; we don't see the suffering of the animals we eat, or the panic of polar bears losing the ice they depend on. We don't visit the factories that make our stuff, don't feel the depth of the unending fear of those who live in war zones and suffer genocide. We allow them to stay far away-frankly, we prefer it that way.
How would our world change if we enacted Christ's call to love our enemies? We barely even try to imagine because we're too afraid they'd shoot first.
But in that "face to face" encounter? All of that has to fall away. The cost of our lives comes into focus. Suffering will no longer be invisible. And yes, I think it's going to hurt. Not because God wants to punish us-and likely not with literal flames (IT'S A METAPHOR!)-but because seeing the real nature of reality that we can only dimly imagine now will show us how we are linked. And if a Pakistani woman whose husband has been killed by a drone strike really is my sister, those unicorns and fluffy clouds are going to feel pretty far away.
Still, the heart of the Gospel is forgiveness; still Jesus forgave even from the cross. I also don't believe that what we do is forever. Only God can "do" forever. All we can do is pray with our hearts and our hands, asking God for the grace to be bold enough to witness suffering and strong enough to do something about it. We're called to inhabit the space between, of grieving and seeking to right the injustices of the world but also thanking God for full bellies and access to health care.
But getting back to the rich man-the specific question of economic justice is still an important one, and I don't want to get too far away from it. In our Tuesday Lenten conversation on Scripture quite a bit of energy was generated by Jesus' words about how it's harder for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven than for a camel to fit through the eye of a needle. As Jose said, God doesn't want us to be poor-but as Sasha said, God's not quite letting us off the hook, either. What do we make of our own comparative wealth, or the American economy that so lavishly rewards a very few at the expense of everyone else? Compared to a Somali orphan, I'm doing pretty well. Compared to the CEO of Google, it's a wonder I can survive in this world at all driving my little Toyota by myself instead of having a personal limo driver.
Our bishops have invited the diocese to read together a book by the theologian and activist Cornel West and the journalist Tavis Smiley called The Rich and the Rest of Us-I've created a short online survey to discern how it might fit into our spring and summer plans for adult education at Christ Church. Please take a few minutes to fill it out here. I promise it's short!
As part of that same endeavor, they've also invited the diocese into the "B Peace" endeavor, a partner to B Safe in response to the murder of Jorge Fuentes, a B Safe graduate, last year. They're inviting congregations to be part of organizing in partnership with schools and against gun violence-also let me know if you want to hear more about their plans.
A lot is wrong, but a lot is possible, too. And we know we're not working alone.
Blessings,
Sara+
PS: Follow Jesus, but also look at what I post on twitter: your rector has joined the 21st century @revsarai
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
From Feb 21: The Journey in Lent
Dear People of Christ Church,
I hope you're having a fruitful start to your Lent; have you stuck to your chosen paths toward Easter? I was reading an article recently that asked this question: If you said you were going to pray for 15 minutes every morning for Lent and you already missed two of them, is God annoyed that you've already failed twice, or is God delighted that you set aside time for prayer five times?
I think if you had to pick one, you'd probably admit that you first focused on the failure, not the success. There are a lot of reasons it's hard for us to see how God sees or love how God loves, and one stumbling block has to be the uniquely human burden of so frequently turning toward negativity. Whenever I find myself favoring harsh self-criticism over compassion, I struggle to remember to ask myself: does this come from God, or from somewhere else? It's good to hold ourselves accountable, but not if it blinds us to the intimacy we already share with God in our lives.
Historically, the name for the "somewhere else" has been the devil. Satan. To be honest, I'm pretty doubtful about the existence of anything at all like a red cartoon character with horns and a tail. At the same time, I also reject the old Michelangelo image of God as an old white man with a beard, however majestic looking *he* is reaching across the Sistine Chapel.
The thing is, I feel like I actually have experienced God in my life; I have been embraced by oceans of love and acceptance, I've heard the still small voice guiding my steps and I've been moved by the suffering I've seen in the world. I've been bodily fed and restored by our sacraments, made one with all of you in Christ at the altar. I don't have a visual image for what that's like, apart from the experience of being in relationship.
I've not had a personal experience of any sense of anthropomorphized evil. I have seen it in action: the hopelessness of our culture in our "debate" about gun violence while children are dying. The extreme poverty of Sub-Saharan Africa while governments insist that nothing can be done. Racism and homophobia. Passivity in the face of suffering. Rape. These are all evil. There's no dressing it up to make it reasonable, but still I have a hard time naming it as Satan. CS Lewis wrote that the devil's greatest success is convincing us that he (sic) doesn't exist. There are quite a few things that CS Lewis and I disagree about, but I think that sounds about right. I have just as much trouble with it as anyone else.
What's even harder is seeing how, in my own life, I succumb to the "not from God" stuff on a smaller level. How can I ask God's help to withstand the temptation to scold myself for not being good enough? How can I ask God's help to withstand the temptation not to give up on my spiritual practices when they get hard? How do I ask God for help in resisting the evils of complacency in our church community, in being too comfortable with how pleasant it all is?
Our First Sunday of Lent Gospel is very clear about how Jesus is tempted; he withstands the devil's invitation because he trusts in God. How do we also trust in God to withstand evils both great and small? How do we support each other in the journey?
Blessings,
Sara+
PS Did you miss our first Lent series conversation? It's not too late! For the next four Tuesdays, members of the congregation will lead us through a series of conversations on prayer. Next Tuesday, Daniel Keleher on Jesus, while Erin Jensen teaches the Godly Play series on Knowing Jesus in a New Way for the younger set.
I hope you're having a fruitful start to your Lent; have you stuck to your chosen paths toward Easter? I was reading an article recently that asked this question: If you said you were going to pray for 15 minutes every morning for Lent and you already missed two of them, is God annoyed that you've already failed twice, or is God delighted that you set aside time for prayer five times?
I think if you had to pick one, you'd probably admit that you first focused on the failure, not the success. There are a lot of reasons it's hard for us to see how God sees or love how God loves, and one stumbling block has to be the uniquely human burden of so frequently turning toward negativity. Whenever I find myself favoring harsh self-criticism over compassion, I struggle to remember to ask myself: does this come from God, or from somewhere else? It's good to hold ourselves accountable, but not if it blinds us to the intimacy we already share with God in our lives.
Historically, the name for the "somewhere else" has been the devil. Satan. To be honest, I'm pretty doubtful about the existence of anything at all like a red cartoon character with horns and a tail. At the same time, I also reject the old Michelangelo image of God as an old white man with a beard, however majestic looking *he* is reaching across the Sistine Chapel.
The thing is, I feel like I actually have experienced God in my life; I have been embraced by oceans of love and acceptance, I've heard the still small voice guiding my steps and I've been moved by the suffering I've seen in the world. I've been bodily fed and restored by our sacraments, made one with all of you in Christ at the altar. I don't have a visual image for what that's like, apart from the experience of being in relationship.
I've not had a personal experience of any sense of anthropomorphized evil. I have seen it in action: the hopelessness of our culture in our "debate" about gun violence while children are dying. The extreme poverty of Sub-Saharan Africa while governments insist that nothing can be done. Racism and homophobia. Passivity in the face of suffering. Rape. These are all evil. There's no dressing it up to make it reasonable, but still I have a hard time naming it as Satan. CS Lewis wrote that the devil's greatest success is convincing us that he (sic) doesn't exist. There are quite a few things that CS Lewis and I disagree about, but I think that sounds about right. I have just as much trouble with it as anyone else.
What's even harder is seeing how, in my own life, I succumb to the "not from God" stuff on a smaller level. How can I ask God's help to withstand the temptation to scold myself for not being good enough? How can I ask God's help to withstand the temptation not to give up on my spiritual practices when they get hard? How do I ask God for help in resisting the evils of complacency in our church community, in being too comfortable with how pleasant it all is?
Our First Sunday of Lent Gospel is very clear about how Jesus is tempted; he withstands the devil's invitation because he trusts in God. How do we also trust in God to withstand evils both great and small? How do we support each other in the journey?
Blessings,
Sara+
PS Did you miss our first Lent series conversation? It's not too late! For the next four Tuesdays, members of the congregation will lead us through a series of conversations on prayer. Next Tuesday, Daniel Keleher on Jesus, while Erin Jensen teaches the Godly Play series on Knowing Jesus in a New Way for the younger set.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
From Feb 14: Holy Lenten Season
Dear People of Christ Church,
A holy Lent to you, and a happy Valentine's day! My wedding anniversary is tomorrow, so in my household we have a universal "pass" on celebrating today, but I hope you will do something special. I have heard a few moans about the coincidence between the beginning of Lent and Valentine's Day-all those usual treats of chocolate or champagne are often on the chopping block when it comes to Lent. For the record, I don't think that our general discomfort is much of an offering to God, but I do think the invitation of simplicity that Lent offers us is something to follow after.
Our bishop, Tom Shaw, has started a video blog series: "Monk in the Midst," and he released one this week for Valentine's Day. He says that Lent is a little like a Valentine to God. If it's possible to take Valentine's day in an un-cynical, un-commercialized way, and observe it as a centering-in on love, then I think it works...being a monk, Tom does not have a lot of experience with romantic love, but he does know God (I wrote one of these pieces several years ago about Valentine's Day and the Church here)
Tom says that Lent can be a time to tell God who we are, what we desire. It's a time we can admit our unfaithfulness, and ask about all the things we don't understand. In my sermon yesterday, I quoted Dorothy Day's comment about wanting to create a world in which it was easier to be good. One of the invitations of Lent, going on that theme, is an experiment to see how we can structure a life in which it is easier to be near God. What are the places we can clear out in order to make room for God? Where can you add in some silence, or take away some "stuff," in order to see God's face?
Lent is not necessarily an occasion for general self-improvement; if you need to drink less, you should go ahead and just do that-but I find that the limited scope of it makes it easier to try something out that I might want to do for longer. My unexpectedly transformative activity last year (which I'm doing again this year) was having no radio in the car. It takes me between 20 and 35 minutes to drive from home to work, so adding in an average of an hour of silence each day was big. I'm a total NPR junkie; even bad call-in shows on topics I'm not actually interested in-so to break the habit of always having that distraction shifted a lot for me. I found even in the non-Lenten parts of the year that I was able to turn off that episode of Fresh Air with Paula Dean-how to contract diabetes and then control it isn't an improvement on silence. There's nothing wrong with listening to public radio, but if it's crowding out my awareness of where I actually am-and the present is the only place God can find you-it's not worth it.
What practices will bring you closer to God this Lent? What can you add, or take away?
Blessings,
Sara+
Bishop Tom's video is at diomass.org
For 40 days of ideas, check out Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber's page here
Local friends
Our friends at Chaplains on the Way are offering labyrinth walks at First Presbyterian Church at 34 Alder Street in the evenings on the second Tuesday of the month (7:30-9) and on the second Wednesday from 3 to 4pm.
COTW also offers a Centering Prayer group right here at Christ Church every Wednesday from about 9:15-9:45.
The Wider Church
Want to learn more about the saints? Rev. Norm wrote about them in this space last fall; take a different approach and see who will win the "Golden Halo." The "saintly smackdown" is at www.lentmadness.org.
And of course, join US here at Christ Church for Lent education for all:
Dinner at 6pm; children's and adult education at 6:40, Eucharist in the choir room at 7:30.
More on Ashes to Go
See the Waltham News Tribune
My personal blog at saraiwrites
A holy Lent to you, and a happy Valentine's day! My wedding anniversary is tomorrow, so in my household we have a universal "pass" on celebrating today, but I hope you will do something special. I have heard a few moans about the coincidence between the beginning of Lent and Valentine's Day-all those usual treats of chocolate or champagne are often on the chopping block when it comes to Lent. For the record, I don't think that our general discomfort is much of an offering to God, but I do think the invitation of simplicity that Lent offers us is something to follow after.
Our bishop, Tom Shaw, has started a video blog series: "Monk in the Midst," and he released one this week for Valentine's Day. He says that Lent is a little like a Valentine to God. If it's possible to take Valentine's day in an un-cynical, un-commercialized way, and observe it as a centering-in on love, then I think it works...being a monk, Tom does not have a lot of experience with romantic love, but he does know God (I wrote one of these pieces several years ago about Valentine's Day and the Church here)
Tom says that Lent can be a time to tell God who we are, what we desire. It's a time we can admit our unfaithfulness, and ask about all the things we don't understand. In my sermon yesterday, I quoted Dorothy Day's comment about wanting to create a world in which it was easier to be good. One of the invitations of Lent, going on that theme, is an experiment to see how we can structure a life in which it is easier to be near God. What are the places we can clear out in order to make room for God? Where can you add in some silence, or take away some "stuff," in order to see God's face?
Lent is not necessarily an occasion for general self-improvement; if you need to drink less, you should go ahead and just do that-but I find that the limited scope of it makes it easier to try something out that I might want to do for longer. My unexpectedly transformative activity last year (which I'm doing again this year) was having no radio in the car. It takes me between 20 and 35 minutes to drive from home to work, so adding in an average of an hour of silence each day was big. I'm a total NPR junkie; even bad call-in shows on topics I'm not actually interested in-so to break the habit of always having that distraction shifted a lot for me. I found even in the non-Lenten parts of the year that I was able to turn off that episode of Fresh Air with Paula Dean-how to contract diabetes and then control it isn't an improvement on silence. There's nothing wrong with listening to public radio, but if it's crowding out my awareness of where I actually am-and the present is the only place God can find you-it's not worth it.
What practices will bring you closer to God this Lent? What can you add, or take away?
Blessings,
Sara+
Bishop Tom's video is at diomass.org
For 40 days of ideas, check out Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber's page here
Local friends
Our friends at Chaplains on the Way are offering labyrinth walks at First Presbyterian Church at 34 Alder Street in the evenings on the second Tuesday of the month (7:30-9) and on the second Wednesday from 3 to 4pm.
COTW also offers a Centering Prayer group right here at Christ Church every Wednesday from about 9:15-9:45.
The Wider Church
Want to learn more about the saints? Rev. Norm wrote about them in this space last fall; take a different approach and see who will win the "Golden Halo." The "saintly smackdown" is at www.lentmadness.org.
And of course, join US here at Christ Church for Lent education for all:
Dinner at 6pm; children's and adult education at 6:40, Eucharist in the choir room at 7:30.
More on Ashes to Go
See the Waltham News Tribune
My personal blog at saraiwrites
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
From Feb 7: Ashes to Go
Dear People of Christ Church,
Our chaplain in seminary used to say that it was God’s cruelest joke that so many clergy are introverts. God gets you into this ministry—you imagine quiet moments of prayer and solitude, mulling over sermons and preparing liturgies. Then you get thrown in front of a church and your inner panicker goes into high gear. Church is great—but there are people everywhere. I love my work—and I love being the priest at Christ Church—but I will say that a quiet room and a book or a blank page are high on my list of favorite things.
It is, then, maybe God also getting a kick out of our discomfort with a new movement in the Episcopal Church: ashes to go. No music, no liturgy, not even a roof: clergy and lay people taking to the streets and standing in prayer with anyone who comes by. Last year, I remember hearing about churches doing it, and it seemed like a nice, but impractical, idea. We Episcopalians have not often aligned ourselves with people walking around the sidewalks announcing the end of the world—are we slipping into some apocalyptic rabbit hole? Surely we don’t want to be unnecessarily confrontational, do we?
Maybe, maybe not. I am inclined to say, though, that we make an awful lot of assumptions in thinking that all that is right and true can be found within our four walls. While we may be intellectually open to the strengths of other traditions, but when it comes to participating in church, we expect people to get with our program. I recently read a piece by the Rt Rev Stephen Lane, the Bishop of Maine, in which he asks the question: where is the “frontline” of your church? It got me thinking—most of what we do here happens, well, here. At 750 Main Street in Waltham. Our church is wonderful and grace-filled, but we also tend only to share that with those who come to us, rather than the church going out to meet the people where they are.
That was not exactly Jesus’ style. Last night, as the parent helper in my daughter’s Godly Play class at Grace Medford, where my husband is the rector, we heard the parable of the Great Banquet. Putting out the familiar pictures and green felt, the storyteller began. Someone wanted to have a party, and invited all of his friends, but they wouldn’t come. They had to take care of their property. They had just gotten married. Another had to check on some livestock they were buying. So what does the host do? Get more people to come in. The poor, the blind, the sick, the outcast. And when there's still room, he casts the circle wider. The banquet grows and grows. No longer confined to those they already know—the ones with the right job and the right views—now, absolutely everybody gets in.
Too often, the church does not tell the story of a Great Banquet—too often, we are an intimate dinner party, entranced by our own cleverness and style. I don’t know what Jesus would have said about taking our ashes to the streets—I don’t know what he would have said about ashes in the first place, since he was pretty clear on instructing people not to look dismal about fasting and prayer—but I am confident that whatever the church can do to come near to others is the path that Jesus would have us walk on. Would it be “better” if people came to an hourlong liturgy and had time for music, reflection, and a sermon about the tradition and theology of the day? Quite probably. The liturgy for Ash Wednesday is a great service. And surely, I hope all of you who are reading this go to church…
But for the tired commuter who doesn’t know how she will make it through the day without eighteen cups of cofeee, for the homeless person as they walk from the shelter to breakfast at the Salvation Army, for the man who stopped going to church after his wife died, for the boss who has to fire someone and the employee who’s worried the pink slip is coming, for the mom who is worried that her kid will get sick at school and she’ll have to leave work early—for all of those people, we’ll be there on Carter Street. No judgments, no strings, no gimmicks. Just the dust we came from and a prayer for God’s grace—an opening of our hands and one deep breath of hope.
Blessings,
Sara+
Want to help? We need volunteers to take the 8:30-9 shift or a second set of 2-3 who would be willing to host a station by the bus stop right outside Christ Church.
Our chaplain in seminary used to say that it was God’s cruelest joke that so many clergy are introverts. God gets you into this ministry—you imagine quiet moments of prayer and solitude, mulling over sermons and preparing liturgies. Then you get thrown in front of a church and your inner panicker goes into high gear. Church is great—but there are people everywhere. I love my work—and I love being the priest at Christ Church—but I will say that a quiet room and a book or a blank page are high on my list of favorite things.
It is, then, maybe God also getting a kick out of our discomfort with a new movement in the Episcopal Church: ashes to go. No music, no liturgy, not even a roof: clergy and lay people taking to the streets and standing in prayer with anyone who comes by. Last year, I remember hearing about churches doing it, and it seemed like a nice, but impractical, idea. We Episcopalians have not often aligned ourselves with people walking around the sidewalks announcing the end of the world—are we slipping into some apocalyptic rabbit hole? Surely we don’t want to be unnecessarily confrontational, do we?
Maybe, maybe not. I am inclined to say, though, that we make an awful lot of assumptions in thinking that all that is right and true can be found within our four walls. While we may be intellectually open to the strengths of other traditions, but when it comes to participating in church, we expect people to get with our program. I recently read a piece by the Rt Rev Stephen Lane, the Bishop of Maine, in which he asks the question: where is the “frontline” of your church? It got me thinking—most of what we do here happens, well, here. At 750 Main Street in Waltham. Our church is wonderful and grace-filled, but we also tend only to share that with those who come to us, rather than the church going out to meet the people where they are.
That was not exactly Jesus’ style. Last night, as the parent helper in my daughter’s Godly Play class at Grace Medford, where my husband is the rector, we heard the parable of the Great Banquet. Putting out the familiar pictures and green felt, the storyteller began. Someone wanted to have a party, and invited all of his friends, but they wouldn’t come. They had to take care of their property. They had just gotten married. Another had to check on some livestock they were buying. So what does the host do? Get more people to come in. The poor, the blind, the sick, the outcast. And when there's still room, he casts the circle wider. The banquet grows and grows. No longer confined to those they already know—the ones with the right job and the right views—now, absolutely everybody gets in.
Too often, the church does not tell the story of a Great Banquet—too often, we are an intimate dinner party, entranced by our own cleverness and style. I don’t know what Jesus would have said about taking our ashes to the streets—I don’t know what he would have said about ashes in the first place, since he was pretty clear on instructing people not to look dismal about fasting and prayer—but I am confident that whatever the church can do to come near to others is the path that Jesus would have us walk on. Would it be “better” if people came to an hourlong liturgy and had time for music, reflection, and a sermon about the tradition and theology of the day? Quite probably. The liturgy for Ash Wednesday is a great service. And surely, I hope all of you who are reading this go to church…
But for the tired commuter who doesn’t know how she will make it through the day without eighteen cups of cofeee, for the homeless person as they walk from the shelter to breakfast at the Salvation Army, for the man who stopped going to church after his wife died, for the boss who has to fire someone and the employee who’s worried the pink slip is coming, for the mom who is worried that her kid will get sick at school and she’ll have to leave work early—for all of those people, we’ll be there on Carter Street. No judgments, no strings, no gimmicks. Just the dust we came from and a prayer for God’s grace—an opening of our hands and one deep breath of hope.
Blessings,
Sara+
Want to help? We need volunteers to take the 8:30-9 shift or a second set of 2-3 who would be willing to host a station by the bus stop right outside Christ Church.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
From Jan 31: Annual Meeting
Dear People of Christ Church,
Thanks to everyone who showed up for the annual meeting on Sunday, and special thanks to all those who shared such great ideas in our visioning conversation! We have much to do together, and it's exciting to welcome new fellow-travellers into our midst. Welcome to new "registered" members Gennaro "Jerry" Simeone, Debbie Robinson, Amanda Gee, Jeanette Asadoorian, Robert Doherty, Emma Atwood, Rob Atwood, Doug Whittington (Christine signed last year), Maureen Keleher, and Dan Keleher. We'll have the book out this Sunday, too, for those who couldn't make it last Sunday.
One of the words that came out of our "building our resources" group was the word "audit." When you think about the IRS, audits don't sound very inspiring; they sound frankly adversarial. But the group was thinking of something different-an audit of where our ministries are and what we are called to do. How are we focusing our energy as a community? Are we putting our resources-time, talent, and skill-where the Holy Spirit is leading us? How are we welcoming the passion and gifts of newcomers? Can we really do what we've set out to do, or do we need depth in favor of breadth?
At baptism, each of us is "ordained" into the Christian life and given a mission, as laid out in the covenant we promise to support. To "seek and serve Christ in all persons," to "strive for justice and peace," to share in Christ's "apostles' teaching and fellowship" (i.e, the church). That is your job as individual Christians, and that's our job as a church. So what is your own "audit" process? In my own life, I'm looking toward Lent, which now is just ten days away. My sabbatical was a time of renewal, to be sure, and now that I'm back on the ground, I'm happy to put some of that new energy and clarity into action-as well as being thankful for that season coming up as a reminder to slow down a little.
One of the gifts of creating the opportunity to sit down with everyone is to check on how you are doing in your own ministries and how you might be called to enter into new ones. Absolutely everyone has a ministry; the trick is to find how the shape of your life and the shape of the life of the church and the world can meet. This is not an easy thing; I know what it's like to balance jobs and kids and community. Just last night I was torn between going to my son's school PTO meeting and going to an ecumenical clergy gathering... I ended up skipping them both and sat with a friend and her new baby instead. But if you think you might have half an hour once in a while, let the altar guild know if you want to stop by and lend your efforts to polishing. If you have fifteen minutes, maybe you could stop by after a community group has used our space and make sure everything is locked up. If you have a few hours, maybe you could cook a meal for the Day Center and drop it off so the next volunteer can serve it. Maybe you have a Tuesday night free, so you can come to our Lent series starting on February 19. Maybe the best you have to give is five minutes of prayer-and maybe those five minutes will change your life and the life of the church. Nothing is wasted in the service of God. So many people have such powerful ministries in this place-750 Main Street over the years has been held afloat by an ocean of prayer (and some tears, too). We need the church, and the church needs us. From wardens and vestry to altar guild to our so-vibrant-it-shakes-the-walls children's ministries, thank you! It's a little like Byron said in his stewardship talk-we have enough money; it's just in our pockets. We have enough time, too-it's right there in our calendars.
Blessings,
Sara+
p.s. When did you last invite someone to church? The names of people to fill our pews are in your address book-maybe start with the pancake supper?
From Jan 24: Annual Meeting
Dear People of Christ Church,
As has been announced, this Sunday we meet for our annual meeting, which means we'll have ONE service beginning at 9:30 in place of 8:30 and 10. This year, we're trying something a bit more interactive-dare I say interesting-but inviting conversation on our ten desires for our parish vision. We'll have different topics of conversation spread through the church, and invite everyone to self-select into the place where they feel called to reflect on our work together. Each month at vestry, we take a few minutes to reflect on where we've done work in each of the different ten areas, both for evaluating past events and noticing where we need to put more emphasis. I'm hoping that each conversation group will talk both about what we've done in the past year, but also about hopes for the year to come. This will enable us to look both forward and backward as part of the meeting, as well as offer some space for conversation. After 15 or 20 minutes I'll invite each group to share just one notable think from their discussion so we have some opportunity to listen in. We'll still have time for questions and answers, but won't have the same expectation that each individual summarize their report for the group-hopefully you will have a few minutes to download the whole report to read it before Sunday. Print copies will be available. (Annual Report Link)
As we do at each annual meeting, we'll also invite members who've joined in the last year to sign our membership book. The "official" definition of membership is that you come and you contribute, so pledge cards will be available, as always!
Finally, I'm including our vision here-this was adopted by the vestry in 2010.
1. That welcomes all newcomers and encourages fellowship through social events and opportunities for outreach and service, collaborating with others in service of the common good.
2. That strives for justice and peace among all people; that gives our time, treasure, and talents to serve vulnerable populations such as the poor, the sick, the hungry, the oppressed, and those in prison.
3. That values the liturgy and worship of the Episcopal Church; that is both grounded in tradition and open to the world.
4. That nurtures an active prayer life and encourages spiritual growth in Communion with God.
5. That fosters the clarification of Christian thinking through study, reflection, and discussion; that recognizes these pursuits as vital to the practice of Christian charity and humility in a broken world.
6. That is committed to growing a vibrant and diverse Christian community; that develops its resources to follow God's call.
7. That has reverence for the earth as God's own creation and uses its resources rightly in the service of others; that advocates for responsible stewardship of the earth locally and globally.
8. That celebrates the gifts of every phase of the journey of life and appreciates the contributions of everyone, from our youngest to our oldest members.
9. That appreciates music in worship and seeks to include musical contributions from all members of the community.
10. That stewards the legacy of our historic building; that opens our doors to host other communities of faith; that invites all to share our grounds as a place of beauty and peace in the heart of Waltham.
Where do you see us going? What is your vision, and how will you help us to bring it about?
As has been announced, this Sunday we meet for our annual meeting, which means we'll have ONE service beginning at 9:30 in place of 8:30 and 10. This year, we're trying something a bit more interactive-dare I say interesting-but inviting conversation on our ten desires for our parish vision. We'll have different topics of conversation spread through the church, and invite everyone to self-select into the place where they feel called to reflect on our work together. Each month at vestry, we take a few minutes to reflect on where we've done work in each of the different ten areas, both for evaluating past events and noticing where we need to put more emphasis. I'm hoping that each conversation group will talk both about what we've done in the past year, but also about hopes for the year to come. This will enable us to look both forward and backward as part of the meeting, as well as offer some space for conversation. After 15 or 20 minutes I'll invite each group to share just one notable think from their discussion so we have some opportunity to listen in. We'll still have time for questions and answers, but won't have the same expectation that each individual summarize their report for the group-hopefully you will have a few minutes to download the whole report to read it before Sunday. Print copies will be available. (Annual Report Link)
As we do at each annual meeting, we'll also invite members who've joined in the last year to sign our membership book. The "official" definition of membership is that you come and you contribute, so pledge cards will be available, as always!
Finally, I'm including our vision here-this was adopted by the vestry in 2010.
1. That welcomes all newcomers and encourages fellowship through social events and opportunities for outreach and service, collaborating with others in service of the common good.
2. That strives for justice and peace among all people; that gives our time, treasure, and talents to serve vulnerable populations such as the poor, the sick, the hungry, the oppressed, and those in prison.
3. That values the liturgy and worship of the Episcopal Church; that is both grounded in tradition and open to the world.
4. That nurtures an active prayer life and encourages spiritual growth in Communion with God.
5. That fosters the clarification of Christian thinking through study, reflection, and discussion; that recognizes these pursuits as vital to the practice of Christian charity and humility in a broken world.
6. That is committed to growing a vibrant and diverse Christian community; that develops its resources to follow God's call.
7. That has reverence for the earth as God's own creation and uses its resources rightly in the service of others; that advocates for responsible stewardship of the earth locally and globally.
8. That celebrates the gifts of every phase of the journey of life and appreciates the contributions of everyone, from our youngest to our oldest members.
9. That appreciates music in worship and seeks to include musical contributions from all members of the community.
10. That stewards the legacy of our historic building; that opens our doors to host other communities of faith; that invites all to share our grounds as a place of beauty and peace in the heart of Waltham.
Where do you see us going? What is your vision, and how will you help us to bring it about?
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