tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83781711860676923982024-03-05T21:56:19.339-08:00Christ Church E CrierThoughts on faith and life from Sara Irwin, rector at Christ Episcopal Church in Waltham, Massachusetts (www.christchurchwaltham.org). Published weekly.Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.comBlogger355125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-32467487747967637052017-02-02T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:20:44.840-08:00Praying the BeatitudesDear People of Christ Church,<br />
This week I’ve continued to mull over what it means to remain spiritually grounded in such a time as this; I preached on Sunday about having God’s vision of the beatitudes to see blessing in places where the world does not. Poverty, mourning, hunger, persecution—those are not particularly comfortable places to be. But Jesus calls them blessed, and calls us to see that as well.<br />
<br />
This is a profound discipline: we must be grounded in the vision of God’s love and power as equally as we are opposed to hatred and violence. On the one hand, spiritual sustenance is easy to understand. Of course it’s important. What actually happens when we pray, though, can use some thinking-through. Prayer brings us before God, of course. We make ourselves available to love and be loved. The other important thing about prayer is that we are better able to put struggle, anxiety, and conflict in context. Prayer helps us to widen our view. We are not the saviors of the world. We have some work to do, but it’s not up to us completely.<br />
<br />
Hopefully, being able to put ourselves and the world in the context of God’s love, we can also do so for those with whom we disagree. In all the best activism on the part of those who are oppressed, it can be easy to forget that it is hatred and fear that are the enemy, not the people who seem to promote them. In prayer, we glimpse a unitive reality in which we are equally in need of God’s grace and compassion. Even if just for a moment! Jesus tells us, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. When we are hungry for justice, we must know that even in our hunger we are being filled by the grace of God, as that hunger is God’s life living within us.<br />
<br />
This evening, take a moment and really pray the beatitudes. Look with God’s eyes to see blessing in the world, and allow your heart to perceive it.<br />
<br />
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.<br />
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.<br />
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.<br />
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.<br />
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.<br />
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.<br />
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.<br />
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.<br />
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-26998262509435677322017-01-26T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:19:32.323-08:00Transition, Blessings and Griefs and InformationDear People of Christ Church,<br />
<br />
Since I announced on Sunday at the annual meeting that my ministry here will be ending on March 5, I’ve had occasion to talk with many of you about the joy and sorrow of a time like this. (My letter of Sunday afternoon is also on our website.)Transitions are, inevitably, hard. It’s hard to trust to what feels like an uncertain future. It’s hard to figure out the dividing lines between blessing and grief.<br />
<br />
In church, we are in the business of death and resurrection, bearing witness to new life. This isn’t a death, but it is a time of entering into a liminal, in-between space that can feel a little ghostly. This is where what-has-been nurtures the seeds of what-will-be. That takes faith: faith in God’s promises to lead God’s people forward, faith in parish leaders and the diocese, and, most importantly, faith in the love of Christ that brought each of you here. A church isn’t just any organization; it’s the Body of Christ! You were called into this community because you have something to share with the world and God’s people here in this place. That calling is much, much broader and more important than any one clergy person who might serve in your midst at any given time. In the months after my departure, you will need to focus on the work before you, on nurturing your community and discerning your future. During that time, best practices require that past clergy not maintain contact with the parish (either in person or via social media, etc). That can feel difficult, but it’s also not forever.<br />
<br />
And I’m not gone yet! Over the next six weeks, will have plenty of time to meet for coffee, dream, and pray together. <b>Please let me know if you would like to sit down one on one to talk: that is what I would most like to spend my time doing for the rest of my time here!</b> Rev. Norm will be leading an adult ed series for three weeks beginning on February 5 on social justice movements and the church, with a particular focus on Martin Luther King, Jr. We’ll have a good party to celebrate our work together, and your wardens and vestry will share information about what’s going on as you move into the interim period. As Sasha said on Sunday, it’s crucially important to remember that Episcopal Church polity allows for a great amount of autonomy for parishes in transition. You will be in charge of the search committee and you will be in charge of who is eventually called to be your clergy. And, above all that, remember the power of God’s love that lead you to Christ Church will lead Christ Church and all of you forward into a brilliant future.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-70800312604174995432017-01-19T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:17:38.938-08:00Departure LetterDear People of Christ Church,<br />
For the last nearly 11 ½ years, my weeks have been anchored by that greeting. Now I write to share the news that my ministry at Christ Church will be coming to a close. My family is moving to Pittsburgh as my husband accepts a call at St Paul’s, Mt Lebanon, and my last Sunday with you will be March 5. We announced the news at the annual meeting this morning.<br />
<br />
My ministry at Christ Church has been a profound blessing to me over the last years, and I hope to Christ Church as well. When I arrived, there was so much uncertainty. The parish had been through some years of decline, and it seemed that closure was not far away. Quite quickly, though, we discovered that God had some work in mind for us to do; in broadening our welcome to families with children, in starting Diaper Depot, in expanding our offerings for students and young adults, and in securing the amazing building we have inherited. One year of temporary “priest in residence” expanded into three more years as priest in charge, and in 2009 the parish discerned a call to move forward with me serving as rector. In the time I’ve been at Christ Church, I’ve started a blog, traveled to East Africa, given birth to two children, had one essay in a book, and compiled three months worth of poetry and had it published by the former Back Pages Books. The last 11 ½ years have been a time of deep transformation, growth, and nurture both of my professional life and my soul.<br />
<br />
And, yet, the pattern of our life in Christ is always transformation and growth more deeply into the heart of God. Christ Church has been transformed in the time I’ve been here just as I have, and now the next chapter of our lives will begin. As many of you know, I’m a Massachusetts transplant. I grew up in northwest Pennsylvania, so our move is in some ways a homecoming for me. The Episcopal Diocese of Pittsburgh is in a fascinating time of transition, growth, and rebuilding, and I am confident there will be new opportunities to exercise my ministry. God always has more surprises in mind.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Now to God who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to God be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever. Amen.</i><br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
From the Wardens<br />
<br />
Dear People of Christ Church,<br />
The news of Sara’s departure filled us with a range of emotions. We are delighted that she and her family have this opportunity. We are grateful for all that Sara has done for Christ Church and for us personally. And we are deeply sad to think about her leaving. We are also confident in Christ Church and in our future together. Thanks to the hard work of the entire congregation over the last eleven and a half years, we are a strong community. While the transition may be painful at times, we have no doubt that it will also be a time of reflection and growth for Christ Church.<br />
<br />
The transition process is new to us and to many of you who have joined Christ Church during Sara’s tenure. Fortunately, we don’t have to do it alone: the Diocese of Massachusetts provides support and resources to congregations during transitions. As wardens, we have already met with the diocese’s Director of Transition Ministry, Jean Baptiste Ntagengwa, to discuss the steps and timeline of the transition process. He will return to meet with vestry again on Monday.<br />
<br />
During this period of transition, there is a lot to do, and we will be calling on each of you to help. We recognize that all of us have many commitments, but we hope that you will prayerfully consider whether there are some new roles you could take on at Christ Church for this transition period. In the meantime, we will do our best to be in regular communication about next steps. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to reach out to us.<br />
We are grateful for the opportunity to serve as your wardens and for all the gifts of the Christ Church community.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Chris Leonardo and Sasha Killewald, Wardens<br />
<br />
<i>For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. – Matthew 18:20</i>Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-76279731840590238252017-01-12T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:16:36.983-08:00Baptism, the Spontaneous Outpouring of God's LoveDear People of Christ Church,<br />
<br />
I hope those of you who gathered for church on Sunday after the blizzard enjoyed our service in the parish hall as much as I did. When I got to church at 7:30, as I usually do, I discovered there was no heat; the church was 33 degrees and the boiler that heats the church sanctuary was silent. Our repair folks came out soon enough, but to move a space that large 30 degrees takes some time, so as people began arriving to help we got busy moving chairs. Sundays after large storms are never too full, so the 55 or so of us who gathered fit easily in two concentric circles in the hall. I put a small table at the center for an altar and preached with no pulpit and no text. I do that anyway at 8:30, but with a bigger crowd the energy was quite different.<br />
<br />
I’ve preached in different ways over the years I’ve been at Christ Church—there are years in the pulpit and years out of the pulpit. I’ve sometimes used my manuscript as a text to read and other times more as an anchor I rarely look down at. Preaching feels more spontaneous and connected without that safety blanket—it’s just you and me and whatever the Holy Spirit allows me to remember about my planning—but can be hard. Our text for Sunday, though, was a perfect reading for not having everything written down in front of me.<br />
<br />
There’s always something confusing about the baptism of Jesus, our Gospel for Sunday—we tend to think of baptism as a moral event, the necessity of which comes from our own human moral failures. Even if we might not take this argument all the way to the end, there’s a hierarchy implicit in baptizing that makes it seem like a flow of power from powerful to powerless. John named this, too—he wants to receive what *Jesus* has, and sees himself as powerless to give Jesus anything on his own. He doesn’t see how he has authority over Jesus in being able to perform the rite.<br />
<br />
Liturgical stuff gets us in trouble like this all the time. We’re quick to superimpose the hierarchies on the world onto our faith. That’s what John was doing…remember how he made that comment about being even unworthy of tying the thong of Jesus’ sandal? He does it again here.<br />
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We ask the same question. If part of what happens in our baptism is a sinful person being formed in a moral community (which, make no mistake, it absolutely is), then why does Jesus “have” to do it? We’re obsessed with freedom and individual choice so there seems to be something at stake in whether it’s necessary. It might be necessary for us, but is it for Jesus?<br />
<br />
That’s what was great about preaching this piece without a text. Jesus’ baptism was just about the love of God. That’s it. No hierarchy, no authority, no “you should be baptizing me, not me you.” Just love. The most simple thing. Anyone can do it.<br />
<br />
The rite itself is just occasion for us all to get clear about God’s love in Christ. Anyone can be a Christian. There’s no esoteric secret knowledge required. You don’t even have to be sure about everything! Your doubts and questions get to come along. In baptism we take on God’s love. We receive the memories of thousands of years of God’s faithfulness, in Creation, in the calling of the people of Israel through slavery and exile and return, in the birth of God as human in Christ, Christ’s self-giving love and the resurrection. All of God’s love and faithfulness become ours in baptism. Jesus is baptized, and we can be baptized, and it could not be more simple. Just like preaching without a text… Sort of.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-5276526345749770152017-01-05T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:15:40.010-08:00Other RoadsDear People of Christ Church,<br />
Tomorrow is Epiphany (if you have a hankering for church, St Paul’s in Bedford is doing a noon service). One of my favorite lines in the Gospels is this short description of the Magi as they leave Bethlehem:<br />
<br />
And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.<br />
<br />
What is this other road? Did they always follow the instructions given in dreams? What are all the other roads we take or don’t take? Maybe they learned from a bad experience that you should always listen to that stuff? The Robert Frost poem The Road Not Taken has always seemed a bit self-congratulatory to me—the narrator seems to boast that it’s “made all the difference” they took the road less traveled—but Matthew’s Gospel is so matter of fact about it that you wonder if there must be more to it.<br />
<br />
Thinking about the alternate roads often becomes an exercise in nostalgia—thinking about what might have been if we’d done something else (or thinking about who we were when we made those decisions), we are easily blinded to the graces of what is. On the other hand, a la my annoyed interpretation of Frost, there can be a brittle defensiveness to being sure we did the right thing. But the magi are drama-free; they just know that Herod’s out to get them, and they keep going.<br />
<br />
In addition to Magi’s attentiveness to their dreams, the other thing I also love is that they found the other road. We don’t have stories about them returning to Herod because they knew how to do things differently. They were attentive not just to their internal senses, but to what was around them. This is hard: often times we get absorbed into our own personal realities and don’t notice anything else. There’s also an opposite temptation, to be so externally focused we lose our bearings and can’t hear anything from our interior selves. They all are in conversation; it’s more of a double helix than two poles to balance.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow, with the Magi we leave Bethlehem, all on our own roads. The light of the manger will be brought to all corners of the world in this season of Epiphany to the extent that we bring it with us. We’re celebrating Jesus’ baptism on Sunday, so we’re reminded of how we are one in Christ as members of one another and the church; in that same double helix way of interior and exterior, we travel together and apart.<br />
What will you bring with you as you leave the manger? What will you leave behind?<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-38958492686549791032016-12-29T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:14:31.096-08:00The Work of ChristmasDear People of Christ Church,<br />
Blessed Days of Christmas to you! I’m away from the office until January 2, but wanted to pass this on to you as you make your way through these twelve days between Christmas and Epiphany. I’ve shared it before; it comes from the theologian Howard Thurman, published in his book, <i>The Mood of Christmas and other Celebrations</i> (1973).<br />
<br />
When the song of the angels is stilled,<br />
When the star in the sky is gone,<br />
When the kings and princes are home,<br />
When the shepherds are back with their flock,<br />
The work of Christmas begins:<br />
To find the lost,<br />
To heal the broken,<br />
To feed the hungry,<br />
To release the prisoner,<br />
To rebuild the nations,<br />
To bring peace among people,<br />
To make music in the heart.<br />
<br />
Please come on Sunday for Christmas Lessons and Carols at 10am (no 8:30 service). On Sunday, January 8, we’re back to our regular schedule with children’s education at the 10am service and our usual 8:30 spoken Eucharist as we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus that kicks off Epiphany season!<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-78119847493958719172016-12-22T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:13:32.789-08:00An Advent that's Bigger on the InsideDear People of Christ Church,<br />
Continued Advent blessings to you! Thanks to everyone who was part of the pageant on Sunday… it was nice to see it back on Sunday morning, just as it was nice to have it in the evenings for the last few years.<br />
<br />
At vestry on Monday night we were invited to reflect on what words tell our Advent story. I shared that, while I’m not as big of a Dr Who fan as many of you are, a line from that comes to mind—this year my Advent has been bigger on the inside. It’s been a slow unfolding all the way back to the weekend after Thanksgiving; as long as the season of Advent ever gets (next year Advent four is on December 24, so we’ll barely have three weeks of it). It has felt spacious in a way that December, with Tuesday night education and the pageant and school concerts and all of it doesn’t always lend itself to.<br />
<br />
Advent is waiting and unfolding and preparing and paying attention. There’s often a bit of a let down by the end of it; wishing I’d waited better or contemplated harder or whatever else. This year feels different; not because I think I’ve done such an admirable job of “Adventing” so hard, but simply because I am feeling so grateful to be led forward into this mystery of God. I know it’s not going to all be perfect. I’m not going to brilliantly articulate the meaning of the incarnation in my sermon tomorrow better than I ever have. I’m not going to find some new and profound insight on what it means that God becomes human and why it matters. I’m not going to get my children and my home looking flawless for the holiday. And that’s fine! Rather than looking at my own failures this year, I’m looking at so many blessings. Thank you for being part of the journey together.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-59677846515494894432016-12-15T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:12:39.958-08:00Choosing our Pageant StoriesDear People of Christ Church,<br />
The Christmas Pageant returns to Sunday this week! 10am, all the sheep, goats, angels, innkeepers and magi lead us into the Christmas story. A few weeks ago I heard the cartoonist Alison Bechdel (most recently author of the truly marvelous graphic memoirs Are you My Mother and Fun Home) on the radio show <a href="http://www.wnyc.org/story/alison-bechdel-lesbianism-trump-era/">The Takeaway</a>. She was talking about the importance of stories to help us be ourselves—she said they help “organize our thinking.” Stories are what we tell ourselves to remember who we are, to know where we are going, to frame where we have been. She was talking about the post-election world: she needs the characters in her comics, like friends.<br />
Sometimes, of course, stories can get in our way. If you’re wailing about some failure on someone else’s part or some seemingly deadly inadequacy of your own, chances are good that you have developed a narrative that has very little to do with reality. You have, perhaps, lectured yourself for being a hopeless idiot (you’re probably not completely hopeless). You have, perhaps, dismissed another person as incapable of compassion or sensitivity (they may, in fact, be able to muster just a little, once in a while). A Buddhist-influenced spiritual director I had once was always telling me, “Drop the story line” as a way of getting underneath my own judgmental feelings to help me reflect on what was really happening. When someone forgets your birthday, you get angry. It’s one thing, though, to be angry about one particular sadness and another thing to dismiss that person completely as a selfish monster who cares only about themselves and actively wants you to feel bad.<br />
<br />
It’s human nature to create stories; we have narrative minds. That’s why it’s so important to be aware of our stories and choose them wisely. This brings me back to the Christmas pageant. Yes, a fun way to invite our kids into the center of our community. Yes, it’s a way to bring out performance and joy and creativity. It’s deeper than that, though. Seeing our own kids as Mary and Joseph and being face to face with Jesus with animals and chaos all around—that gets us into the story on a profoundly different level than just hearing the words.<br />
<br />
The pageant smashes the whole story together—Joseph’s dream (the Gospel that’s actually assigned for Sunday) is in Matthew, which also gives us the magi. Luke has shepherds, magnificat, and no room at the inn. Joseph listens to his dreams. The innkeeper finds space. The magi bring gifts that symbolize power and kingship (gold and frankincense) but also death (myrrh for anointing a dead body). Mary sings about a God who comes to the help of those who are poor and suffering, not those who are rich and already have plenty. Any one of those stories could feed your spirit for a year, and there they all are all at once!<br />
<br />
The Christmas story is about possibility, solidarity, joy, and love.<br />
Definitely words I want to write my story with.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-86699601276613807322016-12-08T14:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T08:11:27.182-08:00Justice & BreadDear People of Christ Church,<br />
<br />
This week, our Advent series on Biblical values continued on the topic of justice. Last week we talked about non-judgment, and next week we tackle inclusion. One of our Scripture texts was a foundational one for me in how I try to live my life: “As you did it to the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25). Those who are suffering demand our attention not as if Christ were with them, but because Christ is there. I’m all for reading Scripture awake and searching for metaphor, but this isn’t one of those times. Matthew 25 calls for more literalist Bible thumping.<br />
<br />
Last weekend I was with our bishops and the Commission on Ministry, of which I’m a member (it’s the team that helps interview and support people for the ordination process who want to be priests or deacons). In a serendipitous turn someone forwarded me a daily Advent meditation on the spiritual dimensions of anti racist work from one of the people we spoke to, Olivia Hamilton, who’s working with the Harvard Episcopal Chaplaincy. She shares this from Anne Braden, a white southern Episcopalian who lived in the Jim Crow south and came to devote her life to ending the culture of white supremacy she grew up in.<br />
<br />
Braden writes:<br />
The passage from the Bible that impressed me the most deeply in my early religious training was the one from Christ’s story of the Last Judgement: ‘ for I was hungered, and ye gave me no meat, I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not…Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not to the least of these, you did it not to me.’ I thought about that passage a great deal; it worried me almost constantly. And it would have been hard not to worry about it in those days, for this was the 1930s and there was hunger everywhere. The people I knew tried, I think, according to their lights to practice what Christ taught. My family did. They fed many people who were hungry. Sometimes my mother, growing weary of it, would turn away one of the beggars who came to our door, and that would cause me a sleepless night worrying for fear she was going to hell; but most generally she fed them. Especially, she and my father made sure that the Negro family who worked for us from time to time were not hungry or shelterless or naked. If they were short on money to pay the rent, my father provided the money. The family was always clothed because they got our cast off clothes after they were too faded and old for us to want them any more. But something happened to me each time I looked at the Negro girl who always inherited my clothes. Sometimes she would come to our house with her mother, wearing one of the dresses I had discarded. The dresses never fit her because she was fatter than I was. She would sit in a straight chair in our kitchen waiting for her mother, because of course she could not sit in one of our comfortable chairs in the living room. She would sit there looking uncomfortable, my old faded dress binding her at the waist and throat. And someway I knew that this was not what Jesus meant when he said ‘clothe the naked.’ I recalled that Jesus had also said, ‘therefore all things whatsoever ye would that man should do to you, do ye even so to them.’ And I knew that if I were in her place, if I had no clothes, I would not want the old abandoned dresses of a person who would not even invite me to come into her living room to sit down. And I could not talk to her because I felt ashamed. And as I watched her, I would feel a binding sensation around my own throat. And I would feel to see if my own dress was too tight. But of course it was not. My clothes were always well-cut and perfectly fitted. Instead there was a small straightjacket around my soul. (Anne Braden, The Wall Between, 1958)<br />
<br />
Braden goes on to talk about how she began to understand how the racism she lived in was damaging to those who perpetuated it as well as to those who experienced the more severe oppression. “Racial bars built walls…around the white people as well, cramping their spirits and causing them to grow in distorted shapes.” In our conversation about Matthew 25, we talked about the shame of living in plenty when others are suffering; the Gospel tells us that meeting the needs of others is for their material need, but it’s also for our own souls. Or, as a quote from Nicolai Berdyaev has it that José Borrás shared with me a number of years ago has it, “Bread for myself is a material question. Bread for my neighbor is a spiritual one.”<br />
<br />
Where are you finding bread of all kinds these days?<br />
Who’s sharing with you, and who are you sharing with?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-56516654338837491972016-12-01T14:00:00.000-08:002016-12-05T07:51:30.226-08:00The Three AdventsDear People of Christ Church,<br />
Continued Advent blessings!<br />
<br />
Every year we come to this season, and every year we need the Advent call to contemplation, wakefulness, and hope like the desert needs water. This year the Advent invitation to hope, in particular seems very timely. This is the one thing we are called to do in this season: to hope in preparation for the birth of Jesus, to hope in preparation for God’s presence in the world, and to hope for God’s presence in our own lives. One of my favorite explorations of Advent comes from the medieval monk Bernard of Clairvaux. He says there are actually three Advents. The first one is the one we know: the birth of God in the person of Jesus Christ, God taking on our human flesh. We spend these days counting down, lighting candles and eating chocolates, in preparation to be ready. The third Advent is the coming again of Christ, at the end of time: as we say in the Eucharistic prayer, “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” Those are visible, in-the-world Advents. But there’s an Advent that comes in between those two in our chronological time. The second Advent is is the Advent of Christ every day: in our hearts and in our world. God invites us to cultivate a space for Jesus every day, not just Christmas. Bernard tells us: “If you wish to meet God, go as far as your own heart.” Thomas Merton was a great interpreter of Bernard: he emphasizes that part of how we connect to this second Advent is in humility, to accept that we must receive all from Christ and not lean on our own power or ego.<br />
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One of the fruits of this kind of humble living, I think, is non-judgment. That’s one of the lesser-heard Biblical values we’re looking at in our Advent series. This week we read the story of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery in the Gospel of John. Trying to whip Jesus into their frenzy of condemnation, the scribes and Pharisees ask him what they should do to her. But he ignores them; writing in the sand he stays apart, silent. When they push him, he replies: “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” One by one they leave, and she’s alone. I chose that particular story because that line is so memorable, but as we read it together I was most moved by Jesus’ solidarity with her. I pictured the woman, afraid for her life, fearful that there would be no one to take her part. She’s alone; the other adulterous participant is not named, and not anywhere present. She has no recourse for justice. Jesus takes her side. Not only will he not condemn, he does so in the face of significant pressure to do so.<br />
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This Advent, here’s my wish list: to live in hope with that woman, that Jesus might come to my side. To live in trust, with Thomas Merton, that God will give me the grace to embody Jesus’ solidarity in this fragile world. To find time for silence, to find God in my heart in today’s Advent, as well as tomorrow’s.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-36604796020762281252016-11-17T14:00:00.000-08:002016-12-05T07:50:17.596-08:00Still a King, Still Vulnerable and DyingDear People of Christ Church,<br />
This week, I’ve been fortunate enough to take some retreat days at the convent at the Sisters of St Anne in Arlington. Rather than fill this space with words, I wanted to invite you to take a minute of prayer with an image of Jesus the sisters have in their garden. Jesus, here, is pictured as a king: crown and jewels and the whole nine yards. But he’s still on the cross.<br />
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He’s not the quarterback, not the class president, not the tycoon. There is nothing victorious about this king. That’s the point.<br />
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Where do you meet Christ on the cross, still a king, still vulnerable and dying? What ministry does he make possible in you? How can you find ways to serve that Christ in the world?<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
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Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-88706970070636695612016-11-10T14:00:00.000-08:002016-12-05T07:47:30.508-08:00Midwives of the Love of GodDear People of Christ Church,<br />
This morning I’m writing in gratitude for the community we share, and in hope for our God who works wonders. Last night we gathered for Eucharist in the choir, about twenty of us, praying for the vulnerable and the afraid, reminding ourselves of God’s great providence and grace. The gospel text I chose for the day was of the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry as told in the Gospel of Luke:<br />
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The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,<br />
because he has anointed me<br />
to bring good news to the poor.<br />
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives<br />
and recovery of sight to the blind,<br />
to let the oppressed go free,<br />
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.<br />
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Jesus announces that that prophecy is fulfilled in him, that as the people gather there they are seeing the good news brought to the poor and release proclaimed to captives.The oppressed are free and the blind are given sight. Jesus goes on to do those things—healing, saving, transforming. The love of God in his life was so strong, so brave, that nothing could stop it, not even death.<br />
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Hearing those words, we remembered together that the mission of the church is that same mission. Like Jesus, we occupy the place between the truth of God’s power and love and the truth of our broken and fragile world. In God’s dream of transcendent peace, Muslim women aren’t afraid to wear their veils while walking down the street. Immigrant kids don’t worry that their parents will get deported. LGBTQ people don’t worry their marriages will be dissolved. White supremacists don’t get air time next to legitimate political actors. We rest in that dream, at the same time as we live in a world where all of those things happen. One particular heartbreak and inspiration yesterday was reading the letter superintendent Echelson sent to faculty and staff of Waltham schools. Immigrant students are wondering if they should drop out of school, he said, to start making much money as they can, worried they’ll get deported. Arabic speakers are afraid for their safety. Echelson wrote, “Our students, particularly those students who might not feel safe right now because of their immigration status, perceived religion or any other variable, need us to show up for them.”<br />
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This is the transcendent, im/possible place: the place of the cross before the resurrection. The love of God is already showing up on the cross. The love of God is with the gay kid getting beat up and the woman being sexually assaulted. The love of God is incarnate in the mosque on Moody Street, at Temple Beth Israel, at St Mary’s and Sacred Heart. The love of God is showing up in Chaplains on the Way, at AA, at the Community Day Center. The love of God has always been there and will continue to be there. There are places where it hasn’t yet been born, but it is there. Our task as people of faith is to be midwives, to stand in support and accompany God’s love into the world.<br />
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We can do this: to bring that love to the desolate places, to have the courage to speak love to the dark abyss. To show up. That is our mission no matter who is president, no matter what prejudice seems to become acceptable. That is our mission, too, to those who disagree, to whom we are still bound in faith and love, who no less need the gift of God’s love.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-69561480245630699582016-11-03T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:45:59.942-08:00Showing Up, in North Dakota and the Voting BoothDear People of Christ Church,<br />
This week, so much on my mind. My husband, Noah Evans, left with a group of 12 Episcopal clergy and lay people for North Dakota yesterday morning to be part of an action to be held tomorrow to stand in solidarity with the Standing Rock Sioux tribe over an oil pipeline that is slated to be built through sacred lands and that would jeopardize the safety of their water. (Theirs, and everyone else who lives below them on the Missouri River.) Approved by the Army Corps of Engineers without due consultation with the tribe, the pipeline is troubling for lots of reasons—it’s not just the climate change question of pipeline vs not-pipeline. Standing Rock has a long relationship to the Episcopal Church; rather than “evangelizing” from the outside as though Native people could be forcibly claimed for the church, the Episcopal Church was actually invited to be part of the reservation by Chief Gall. So their call to Episcopal clergy has some deeper resonance. A mentor of ours in seminary worked on the reservation for a number of years and we visited several times—it’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. They’ll pray and listen and support. More about their trip is on Noah’s blog. So there’s that, not to mention the presidential election and 4 important ballot questions. I voted early last night and was pleasantly surprised to see the diversity of the city and patience of those gathered—it took about an hour, possibly even more than if I’d waited for Tuesday! But I’m grateful.<br />
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Fortunately, the All Saints jazz mass is on Sunday so we remember that we are not in charge over everything. As we celebrate and sing with drums and saxophone, God’s sovereignty over life and death invites us to center in the fact that even as the stakes are high, God can still work through whatever cataclysms we bring about ourselves. Whether political or environmental or otherwise, it will work itself out. My friend David from our “Two Priests and a Rabbi” interfaith open office hours had this phrase from Mishnah Avot posted on his facebook page yesterday after he voted: “It is not on you to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”<br />
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In my <a href="https://soundcloud.com/sara-irwin-530951447/sunday-oct-30-2016">sermon</a> on Sunday I was thinking in a similar vein, about how we don’t have to have everything completely figured out in order for Jesus to come and be with us. He called <a href="http://lectionarypage.net/YearC_RCL/Pentecost/CProp26_RCL.html#gsp1">Zacchaeus</a> the tax collector out of a tree and told him he was coming to his house before Zacchaeus set himself straight, before promises were made to repay extorted funds and commitments made to give half what he owned to the poor. The point is this: we don’t have to have it all figured out before Jesus will have anything to do with us. God wants our open hearts, not perfectly balanced moral checkbooks.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-91334073962153064572016-10-20T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:43:38.080-08:00Making Ourselves at Home in the ChurchDear People of Christ Church,<br />
First, blessings to those who were confirmed and received last Saturday! Three cheers for Mary, Susan, Jackie, Sam and David. Confirmation is the big “I do” in being an Episcopalian and symbolizes the connection of the individual with the wider church (for whom the bishop stands in) as staking our faith in the Christian faith as expressed in the worldwide Episcopal/Anglican family. It is a lovely commitment to make.<br />
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I’m grateful to God for those five, and also for the beginning of our conversations about stewardship. As you’ll read in our materials, this year the vestry is in charge of it—not one individual or household, but the whole gathered body of our parish leaders. This Sunday the Jensens will offer our stewardship reflection about belonging—we are at home at church.<br />
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Home, at its best, feels safe: that’s the gauzy Thanksgiving holiday image. The truth is, we sometimes have to work at home being home; sometimes nerves fray and tempers flare. Sometimes that deep, spiritual sense of home crumbles: we hurt each other and what is broken can’t be repaired.<br />
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I’ve been thinking about that more complicated aspect of home in preparation for Tuesday’s service of hope and healing from domestic violence. In its third year, we do this in cooperation with REACH and other interfaith partners in Waltham. It is a terrible thing that the church has, historically, been complicit in domestic violence. I’ve heard too many stories about someone’s pastor saying “But I know your spouse, they would never do that.” Or “Jesus always forgave, so you should forgive, too.” Jesus did forgive, and we also are called to that. But God never calls us to jeopardize our own safety by tolerating violence. Forgiveness doesn’t happen at the expense of personal safety. The service is a quiet one: we’ll hear survivors speak and have a chance to light candles in prayer. Alison Shea will be singing, along with Rev. Matt from Agape Christian Community, a new UCC church.<br />
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There are a lot of occasions to pray together coming up—we’ll also be offering an election eve Eucharist on November 7 at 6:30pm in cooperation with Santuario and First Lutheran. Christ Church will host, Pastor Tom Maehl of First Lutheran will preach, and Padre Angel of Santuario will celebrate communion (Angel is one of my partners in crime with Two Priests and a Rabbi). We’re also considering holding the church open all day for prayer—let me know if that would be meaningful to you (and if you’re interested in helping out—we’d need to take shifts).<br />
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Speaking of elections—this Sunday I’ll invite some conversation on the four Massachusetts ballot initiatives after church. Where does your faith have you leaning? Have you made up your mind about them all? Christians of good faith and goodwill can always learn from each other (and disagree, too). I look forward to our conversation.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-72049611895893648842016-09-29T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:42:03.960-08:00Blessing the AnimalsDear People of Christ Church,<br />
St Francis Day Sunday is this week!<br />
St Francis Day Sunday is one of the (perhaps too few) days in the church year we do just for the simple hilarity and joy of it, of blessing our pets. Whether furry or feathered (or in a photograph), we say prayers for gratitude and praise to God for the ways our animals and God’s creation bless our lives. I wrote this space last year about the woodchucks that live in our garden, and now have my own furry dog friend, North (aka Sir Snuggles aka Streudel), and offer thanks even more.<br />
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It seems to me that there is something profoundly countercultural about the way we nurture our relationships with creation and with the animals in our lives. Not just “real” animals, either; there is a yellow stuffed teddy in our household who I am sure I would leap through a flames to rescue. Both our “lemon bear” and our actual dog represent love, only love. It is unlikely that your guinea pig will ever earn its keep. It won’t pull itself up by its bootstraps and get organized. It do anything useful or inspirational or brave. It will just be there to look at you and love you, and then love you some more. Maybe then chew the carpet, but afterwards return to love. It won’t ever buy anything or sell anything or need anything other than food, water, and your company.<br />
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An animal in itself is an invitation to patience and acceptance, too. This is something we are working on a lot on in our house. Like people, animals can experience trauma—our dog wandered in the woods possibly for weeks before coming to us as a stray into our campsite in a national forest this summer. We have no idea what kind of situation he might have been in before he ended up there; his list of intolerances is long. He can’t deal with loud noises. He can’t deal with the postal service. He is afraid of the waffle maker. Until we started feeding him on a tray, he wouldn’t even eat food out of a bowl (claustrophobia?). That’s just what he’s like. We’ll do what we can to address whatever is underneath it and hope he calms down a bit, but he just might not. We have to accept him for who he is. I mean, God sent this dog to us, right? He’s not trying to change us so we can imagine offering the same grace to him.<br />
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So that’s what we do for St Francis Day. St Francis, who preached to the birds and would rather strip naked in the town square than follow wealth the way his family expected him to. Francis who gave everything he had to follow Jesus and “Lady Poverty,” and found joy and peace beyond measure beyond measure beyond measure.<br />
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I’ll close with part of Francis’ “Canticle of the Sun,” which we sing on Sunday.<br />
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Dear mother earth, who day by day<br />
Unfoldest blessings on our way,<br />
O praise God! Alleluia!<br />
The flowers and fruits that in thee grow,<br />
Let them God’s glory also show.<br />
O praise God! O praise God! Alleluia!! Alleluia!!<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-14014583530805643252016-09-22T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:40:48.708-08:00Forgive Us Our DebtsDear People of Christ Church,<br />
This week my friends’ and my plot to get ourselves out of our offices—”two priests and a rabbi drinking coffee” resulted in another great conversation. Angel and David and I sat with one person who grew up Catholic and later converted to Judaism, one Christian new to Waltham in search of a church home, and one repeat customer who might call himself “spiritual but not religious.” Our word for the day: Hell.<br />
Not usually one of my go-to spiritual concepts, but it was on my mind since it comes up in our Gospel for Sunday in the parable of Lazarus and the rich man. In the story, Lazarus (not to be confused with the guy who was raised from the dead) rests on Abraham’s breast, finally at peace after a lifetime sitting outside the gate of a rich man’s home begging. That rich man has also died, but he has been sent to the lake of fire in Hades. A great chasm is fixed between the two; Lazarus couldn’t help even if he wanted to.<br />
The chasm is not, however, new: it ruptured while the two were alive, when the rich man chose not to see Lazarus. God didn’t create it as punishment: it simply was. “Hades” in the story is a nod to Greek mythology, not Jesus talking about God’s plans for us in the afterlife. But it comes with a hard question: the rich man didn’t see Lazarus. What are we not seeing? Then, as now, what does it mean to be part of a world where it’s so easy not to see?<br />
This parable follows the parable of the dishonest manager, which we heard last week. In that one, we sit across the table from the manager who asks us: how much do you owe?<br />
How much do I owe? Good grief, how much. A lot. Nobody is comparing me to a poisonous candy. Nobody is going to shoot me if my car breaks down (no matter where my hands are, and especially not if they are up in the air).<br />
Why think of this as a debt? Many others do not have this thing that I have. And I certainly did not earn my citizenship or my pale skin or my access to education. My debt is to God, through those who suffer in this world. My debt is to them, through God. Easy to forget those lines in the Lord’s Prayer that really in the original language are more correctly translated as “debts.” Forgive us our debts, God, as we forgive our debtors. We say “trespasses,” which makes it a lot harder to say that as a confession.<br />
Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.<br />
Forgive us, God, all the things we don’t see, and give the grace and courage to open our eyes and hearts to your call.<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-14766256320913851332016-09-15T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:39:48.672-08:00Two Priests and a RabbiDear People of Christ Church,<br />
This week I’m excited to share the news that our first “Two Priests and a Rabbi Drinking Coffee” open office hours at Café on the Common last week was a success. It sounds like a bad joke. That’s the point. The rabbi<a href="http://tbiwaltham.org/2014/07/14/rabbi-david-finkelstein/"> David Finkelstein</a> of Temple Beth Israel (the temple behind Hannaford). The other priest is the Rev. Angel Marrero, the pastor of a new Spanish speaking Lutheran Congregation, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/santuariowaltham/">Santuario</a>, which meets at First Lutheran on Eddy Street. Angel and David and I have worked together on several different projects over the last few years since they’ve each ministered in Waltham. The idea is that we just have an open space to sit and talk together with whoever walks by about whatever comes up. Yes, it’s that technical. We’re going to start by having a word of the day as a conversation starter, but I expect that the topics will range widely.<br />
David and Angel and I all lead radically different spiritual communities—we’re not out to convert anyone to “our” brand of religious experience. But we also have a lot in common. We’re all under 40—in Angel’s case, <i>way under</i> 40, unlike David and me!). Angel’s husband is in seminary and both David and I are married to other clergy. We’re all politically progressive, but our religious expression rooted in ancient tradition. Last week our conversation veered toward worship: what is it? Why does that word elicit such strong responses, both positively and negatively? We all have something we worship, whether or not we put that label on it. You can worship at the altar of looking good or being successful and it occupies just as big a place in your mind as, perhaps, one might wish God would.<br />
Why are we doing this again?<br />
In a world where many people have deep questions and profound wonderings about God and faith but fewer and fewer people are part of religious communities, I want to be part of creating a space where people can begin to have those conversations in a different kind of context. The best of religious community–exists not just for the aid or inspiration of its members, but for the surrounding community. Sure, we have a mission is to make Christians. But that’s not done by banging people over the head. Most broadly, our mission is to make a certain kind of world where God can be known and God’s people can be whole. I love the Episcopal church, but we don’t have an exclusive lock on the presence of the holy. Neither does David’s congregation. Or Angel’s. There will be some people who don’t find God in ANY of our communities. And we want to hold space for them, too. And I need to get out of my office! Faith doesn’t just happen between our four walls. We are called further afield.<br />
So far on our list we have the following for our words of the day:<br />
Television<br />
Food<br />
Bad neighbors<br />
Community<br />
Fear<br />
Belonging<br />
Anger<br />
The City<br />
We meet next on Wednesday, September 21, at 2:00 at Café on the Common and hope to continue weekly. Come, and check out our <a href="https://www.facebook.com/twopriestsandarabbi/">facebook page</a>!<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-80402539958069826182016-09-08T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:37:42.142-08:00God the PotterDear People of Christ Church,<br />
In the children’s sermon this past Sunday, we played with clay—our text was the passage from <a href="http://lectionarypage.net/YearC_RCL/Pentecost/CProp18_RCL.html#ot1">Jeremiah</a> where the prophet talks about God as a potter, forming us. The scripture text gets a little dark—God tells Jeremiah the pot can be crushed, if the potter desires. It seems to come with a threat: God will “shape evil” against the people if God desires.<br />
God <i>might</i>, but God <u>doesn’t</u>.<br />
The Bible is a record of God’s doings in history, but it’s also a record of the people of God trying to understand their experience and God’s action in the world. Again and again, we might think that God will give up on us, or send calamity or trial or tempest. We feel like unsteady pieces of clay sometimes, going around and around the potter’s wheel. Will we be strong and perfect? Will we be weak and wobbly? Will we go astray and get flung off the wheel and into the corner? Will the potter just give up and get something better?<br />
Here’s where the similarity to the potter ends.<br />
I took a class once in pottery, learning the painstaking way a potter has to have just the right balance of gentle pressure. Too little support for the thin walls of a pot on a potter’s wheel, and the clay tears and falls down. Building the wall of the pot too thick doesn’t work, either—then you end up with a door stopper instead. Too little water on the pot as it spins will make it impossible to shape. Too much water will do the same. It’s a marvel any potter can make anything at all without throwing it all in the corner.<br />
Again and again, though, God doesn’t throw the whole thing in the corner. As a not-even-second-rate potter, I gave up all the time and threw the clay back in the bin or, worse, in the trash. But God never does. This week we’ll hear the parable of the lost coin and the lost sheep. Leaving 99, the shepherd goes after the one who’s gone astray. Losing one coin, the woman turns her house upside down until she finds it—and then she throws a party! These are not the actions of a potter who’s going to give up on the clay.<br />
This is the time of year of new beginnings. Even though it’s now been 13 years since I started a new academic year as a student, I still feel a sense of promise as the air begins to cool in the fall.<i> This is the year, I tell myself, I’m really going to get organized. </i>Whether I do or not, though, by now I’m beginning to learn: it doesn’t matter. I’ll do my best, imperfectly tending the garden of my life. Either way, fall will give into winter. Either way, winter will give into spring. Either way, God’s love will encircle us.<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-57194703775457518002016-08-25T14:00:00.000-07:002016-12-05T07:35:40.660-08:00Looking Forward to Our New YearDear People of Christ Church,<br />
Whenever I’m back from vacation I always start out this message by saying that it’s nice to be back, but that has a different resonance now that I feel more solidly back, knowing that my family won’t be moving to Central New York! I’m excited for Dio CNY and for Rev. DeDe, who will be consecrated as their bishop in December. I’m also really, really looking so forward to our new year. There are great things happening at Christ Church:<br />
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+ Our new combined outreach space will launch both Diaper Depot and Grandma’s Pantry into a cozier, brighter, and bigger space. These ministries are crucial to what God is doing at Christ Church. Victoria Sundgren has led Diaper Depot so ably and steadily for the last several years and will hand over the reins to Erin (and Chloe!) Jensen. Sally Lobo, Christ Churcher since birth, continues to lead Grandma’s Pantry with unparalleled dedication to this church and the city of Waltham. If you see them, say thank you—better yet, consider volunteering. Grandma’s Pantry is on Fridays from 9-11am, and diapers are distributed the third Saturday of the month from 10-12. To help prepare for distribution by packaging diapers, you can help out on your schedule.<br />
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+ Our children’s education is thriving, with exciting new curricula for our grades 4-5 and 6-8 classes. Grades 4-5 will cover the big stories, like the flood and Exodus, with more complex reasoning than GP storytelling is conducive to, and grades 6-8 focus on big questions like “Why does the Bible contradict itself” and “Can it be proven that God exists?” Special congratulations to last year’s big class of third graders who move out of Godly Play and will begin learning in new ways. It’s also exciting times for our rising ninth graders, Chloe Jensen, Alicia Duce, and Jennifer Coates. High school formation will pick up where last year’s middle school work left off with small group conversation and participant-focused instruction.<br />
<br />
+In other formation news, please let me know if you would be interested in an “Intro to the Episcopal Church” class that would run after church on Sundays from September 11-October 9. This is for anyone who would like preparation for reception or confirmation as an Episcopalian or who just wants to learn more about our liturgy, history, and theology. It would be similar to the class that just concluded in June. Confirmation comes right up on October 15, held at Redeemer Lexington. Hopefully Christ Church will have a decent-sized group this year!<br />
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+ Our now year-long Stations of the Cross project is coming to a close. The remaining broken Stations are out for restoration thanks to several generous donors, and we look forward to getting them back for hanging this fall.<br />
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+On September 4, Labor Day Weekend, we’ll bless all the books and bags and laptops and smartphones we use to make our work go as part of the children’s sermon.<br />
In my wider work in the church, I continue to serve as dean for the Alewife Deanery (our local cluster of 13 Episcopal Churches) and on the Commission on Ministry. I’m excited to see how our partnership with Chaplains on the Way will unfold, and glad for our continued conversation with St Peter’s as they discern their place in our wider diocese under our new bishop’s staff.<br />
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Finally, I’m excited because I got a dog! When we were camping a sweet furry friend wandered into our site in the Jefferson National Forest two weeks ago. After ten days in his “stray hold” waiting to see if anyone came forward to claim him, North, (named for North Creek, where he turned up) will occasionally make his way into the office here on Main St. He looks like a cross between a black lab and a terrier and, of course, I think he’s the sweetest thing ever.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-75113389946831138332016-07-28T14:00:00.000-07:002016-08-02T09:45:57.613-07:00Follow the Path of LoveDear People of Christ Church,<br />
I’m back in the office now for two weeks between last week’s trip to Central New York to meet people in advance of the Episcopal election there and my family vacation, which we’re taking the second and third weeks of August. I heard good things about your time with the Rev. Thea Keith-Lucas, Episcopal Chaplain at MIT, who will be back again for one Sunday in August. (Norm is taking the other.)<br />
<br />
As you may know, my husband Noah is a candidate for bishop in the Episcopal Diocese of Central NY. Last week they had the “Walkabout” Meetings where the candidates answered questions from the diocese and we all visited ministries of the diocese. The transition and discernment committees’ hospitality was wonderful, even in the midst of long days. From Wednesday – Saturday, we all got on the bus around 10AM each day and got back to our hotel at 10PM. The diocese spans south to the Pennsylvania border, east to the Adirondacks, West to Ithaca and Elmira, and then north to Lake Ontario and the city of Watertown.<br />
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I have said many times that there is blessing on all sides—blessings if Noah is elected and new communities and ministries come into our life—and blessings if we stay in Massachusetts with our communities at Grace Medford and Christ Church. All along in this process it has been an exercise in “yes” to invitations—yes to the invitation for Noah to be nominated, yes to the discernment committee’s retreat, and then yes to joining the slate. Now that journey has come to an end, and it’s up to the people of Central NY. (Quick primer on bishop elections in the Episcopal Church: Each parish has lay voting delegates. Every canonically resident clergy person also votes. The final decision is made when a candidate has been elected in both the lay and clergy orders. They begin voting in the morning, and vote until there’s a clear decision. Church wide, there are 7 other couples of a bishop married to a priest; yes, I could still do parish ministry!)<br />
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It’s one thing, though, to believe that either outcome is a blessing (which they both would be) and another thing to stay centered in the midst of the not-knowing. The slate was first released on May 1 (after a months-long process of interviews and retreats for the candidates). Ten days now until the election, it’s even harder to know what either outcome would feel like.<br />
<br />
Last week’s Gospel told us to pray: “God in heaven, your will be done.” But then what?<br />
<br />
In June I quoted in this space a piece from Carlo Carretto, an Italian desert monastic (1910-1988) who wrote the book <i>Letters from the Desert</i>. Stay or go, be active or contemplative, city or country—the only decision there is to make is to follow the path of love. Reading Carretto in this time of my own uncertainty reminds me of an image of one of the speakers I heard at Wild Goose Festival earlier in July. Gabrielle Stoner talked about how we get attached to stories about ourselves— “I always ___” or “I could never ___”. Rather than be convinced of this insistence on narrow identity, in our spiritual lives we are invited to “widen the aperture”: to look wider than just the current moment or current question to a more transcendent consciousness. Spending time with Carretto’s invitation to focus on love rather than endless obsession on personal circumstance and clever understanding takes me out of the current roller coaster of wondering what will happen on August 6.<br />
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Here’s more about what Carretto says about prayer:<br />
“As long as we pray only when and how we want to, our life of prayer is bound to be unreal. It will run in fits and starts. The slightest upset—even a toothache—will be enough to destroy the whole edifice of our prayer-life. ‘You must strip your prayers,’ the novice master told me. You must simplify, deintellectualize. Put yourself in front of Jesus as poor—not with any big ideas, but with living faith. Remain motionless in an act of love…don’t try to reach God with your understanding; that is impossible. Reach [God] in love; that is possible. (13)<br />
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Reach God in love. That is possible.<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
Miss the sermon Sunday 7/24? It’s <a href="https://soundcloud.com/sara-irwin-530951447/pentecost-9-2016">here</a>!Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-69724577526488023002016-07-14T14:00:00.000-07:002016-07-25T10:26:12.428-07:00Praying for Salvation, Working for JusticeDear People of Christ Church,<br />
Last week I was out of the office to attend the Wild Goose Festival, a gathering in the mountains of North Carolina my family and I have attended for the last four years. My shorthand description of it is “Progressive Christians in the mud”—speakers come from all over the map from self-titled “recovering evangelicals” to pacifist Roman Catholics to anti-racist suburban mom bloggers. And folk music rock stars Dar Williams and the Indigo Girls!<br />
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The workshops I attended were all over the map—I went to one talk by a lay friend of a silent order of Cistercian monks about meditation, one about pilgrimage and laying down your metaphorical and literal baggage, and several talks by the womanist ethicist scholar Emilie Townes (womanism is a politics centered in the experiences of black women). Jim Wallis, founder of the social justice group <a href="https://sojo.net/">Sojourners </a>and author of a whole slew of books about American society and Christian faith and politics, was there this year, speaking again about Racism as America’s Original Sin (also his latest book). What I love about Wild Goose is the sense of community that emerges—I can tell our kids to disappear for an hour and they’ll come back jubilant and covered in dirt, along with a new best friend and an invitation for lunch at someone’s campsite. That doesn’t work in metro Boston.<br />
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Backgrounded in all of the beauty, of course, was pain—at this moment the pain of racism in this country and the pain that it is a system that we are all enmeshed in, like a spider web that clings to our bodies and won’t let us free. If everybody believed that black lives matter, we wouldn’t have to say it. The “All lives” of contemporary America does not, when the rubber hits the road, actually include “all.” The Black Lives Matter movement is about changing that.<br />
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It is a lifelong task to be aware of how racism works in America and how those of us who are white benefit from that system. We are never finished. We will never have done enough. But it’s not about guilt or innocence, not about being paralyzed by shame or longing for exoneration. It’s a journey. Step by step, thought by thought, day after day paying attention. The way we interact with the racism of contemporary America is a moral and political question. That sounds very “exterior,” but it’s also a spiritual journey. We are called to pay attention to white privilege and racial discrimination because where discrimination happens Jesus is present. Jesus is always present where there is suffering. And white people—we are not suffering in contemporary America in the same way that people of color are suffering. We are not. Jesus is on the other side of that. Always. With Philando Castile and Alton Sterling AND with the Dallas police officers who were murdered. In the same way that the assassin at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando didn’t represent Islam, the shooter in Dallas didn’t represent the Black Lives Matter movement.<br />
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Writing about our trip to Wild Goose Festival last year I shared a quote from a talk I attended that year with Paul Fromberg, a priest in San Francisco. He said “I don’t believe in progress. I believe in salvation.” I don’t know if I am making much progress in my own journey around race. Am I doing the best I can? Most of the time. I will pray for salvation, too.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
PS—Please keep my husband, Noah, and me in your prayers as we travel to Central New York next week for the series of meetings leading up to the bishop election on August 6. I’ll be out of the office from July 19-24. Thanks to the Rev. Thea Keith-Lucas, Episcopal Chaplain at MIT, who will be guest celebrant and preacher on July 24. In case of a pastoral emergency, the clergy from Redeemer Lexington will be on call.Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-13874734028775024342016-06-30T14:00:00.000-07:002016-07-25T10:24:21.559-07:00Love, the Motive for All GoodDear People of Christ Church,<br />
In our Gospel on Sunday, the response to Jesus and his disciples is pretty ambivalent. It seems that people want to follow him, but that they all have something to do first—to care for a dying father, to say goodbye to those at home, we could probably all add to the list. We all have a list of things we “need” to do…<br />
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Jesus is pretty unimpressed and appears to dismiss them—“”No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” Ok! Leave everything, and right away. Except… Last week, the person Jesus healed says he wants to follow Jesus, and Jesus says no. Stay. Stay and talk about what God has done for you.<br />
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So which is it? Does staying home with your commitments render you unfit for the kingdom of God, or is it the most faithful thing you can do to honor God through the care and relationships God has given you?<br />
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Both, of course, and more.<br />
Trying to spin out a general rule out of Scripture is like untangling a spider web; each individual story can be read on so many different levels. The soft fibers get caught everywhere in your hair and hands, and all you were trying to do was find one set of instructions. But there is no one set of instructions, unless you step way, way, way, back. Staying or leaving might both be the most faithful choice, or God might have something else in mind. I want to share something I found recently by the Italian monk <a href="http://www.orbisbooks.com/carlo-carretto.html">Carlo Carretto</a>. (1910-1988) He had had a very “productive” activist career and had accomplished a lot, but left to be a monk in the desert in favor of contemplation and simplicity. He wondered if he’d made the right choice, if he were wasting his life. Here’s where he came down:<br />
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<i>Only one thing in this world is not problematic: charity, love. Love alone is not a problem for him who lives it. To those who ask me if I am wasting my time, I can only say. “Live love, let love invade you. It will never fail to teach you what you must do.”</i><br />
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<i>Charity, which is God in us, will point to the way ahead. It will say to you “Now kneel,” or “Now leave.” Don’t worry about what you ought to do. Worry about loving. Don’t interrogate heaven repeatedly and uselessly saying, “What course of action should I pursue?” Concentrate on loving instead.</i><br />
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<i>And by loving you will find out what is for you. Loving, you will listen to the Voice. Loving, you will find peace. Love is the fulfillment of the law and should be everyone’s rule of life; in the end it’s the solution to every problem, the motive for all good…</i><br />
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<i>And if the will of God urges you to seek out the poor, to give up all you possess, or to leave for distant lands, what does the rest matter? Or if it calls you to found a family, or take on a job in a city, why should you have any doubts?</i><br />
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Why <i>should </i>you have any doubts? Only love.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
Miss the sermon on 6/19? It’s <a href="https://soundcloud.com/sara-irwin-530951447/pentecost-5-2016">here</a>!Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-18812689179510235042016-06-23T14:00:00.000-07:002016-07-25T10:22:50.670-07:00Hearing God in Sheer SilenceDear People of Christ Church,<br />
I’ve been continuing to think about the sound of “sheer silence” that we heard God speaking in to the prophet Elijah in the book of Kings reading for Sunday. At vestry we always have a check in question for people to share something of themselves before we start our work. My question for this month was “Where have you heard God in sheer silence lately?”<br />
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Our answers were, I think, pretty typical for any group of 21st century people. Kissing a sleeping child goodnight is about as exquisite as any silence can be, and holy, too. There’s silence in listening for God to invite us into the next step in our lives, silence in being with a person who is dying, silence in being finished with a huge project, our anxieties stilled for a moment. We’re all doing our best to find God in stillness. The lovely thing, too, is that you are also all doing your best to be present with God in the noise. That came up in our Episcopal Church newcomer class as well—as people of faith we long for a deeper sense of connection with God and want to include God in more places in our lives, wherever we find ourselves and whatever we’re doing. Praying for others and finding ways to pray always—and all ways—is all part of a life of seeking God.<br />
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This message from the <a href="http://ssje.org/">SSJE brothers</a>’ daily “word” came through on Tuesday morning:<br />
<i>Silence invites slowing down, restoring sleep, savoring food, being attentive to self and the Divine. It’s a “healing gift” we intentionally foster to give and receive. Compared to the cacophony of the world, silence keeps catching us off-guard, inviting wonder at being so loved by God</i>. —Br. Luke Ditewig<br />
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Brother Luke, I think, nails something here—that any time we can be more intentional and focused on what’s in front of us is a time for interior silence, no matter what is going on outside of us. Silence leaves us open to God, allowing us to close off our own busy-ness and sense of anxiety and responsibility. Silence isn’t the same as quiet. You can have an interior monologue that shouts all alone in an empty room; the background noise can take over: What do you have to do later? What’s the weather going to be like when you’re on vacation? What if your babysitter is late again? And on and on. Not silent. At the same time, you can have an enormous crowd around you shouting and laughing, while you take a single sip of the drink in front of you and feel an interior stillness that can’t be shaken.<br />
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Where’s your quiet? Where’s your noise? Where is God waiting in the silence under both of those?<br />
<br />
Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
Miss the sermon on 6/19? It’s <a href="https://soundcloud.com/sara-irwin-530951447/pentecost-5-2016">here</a>!Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-90694869940807088292016-06-16T14:00:00.000-07:002016-07-25T10:21:18.039-07:00Hear Our PrayerDear People of Christ Church,<br />
As we continue to unfold ourselves, both personally and culturally, from the grief of the violence in Orlando last week, I wanted to share instead of more words, more prayers. Others have offered wonderful words of challenge, comfort, and Christ—most recently two posts from my Lutheran friend, The Rev. Angel Marrero, pastor of Santuario Waltham: <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/orlando-a-pastoral-response-from-a-gay-latino-priest_us_575ee2d9e4b079c7cee5ff95">A Pastoral Response from a Gay Latino Priest</a> and, for considering the place of the church in anti-LGBT sentiment, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/the-pulse-martyrs-confession-before-communion_us_5762b254e4b057ac661b772a">The Pulse Martyrs: Confession Before Communion</a>.<br />
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In the meantime, I offer only prayers—here are some I compiled for our Interfaith Vigil service on Monday. We had a beautiful service of light and prayer, and our collection for Waltham House, our local LGBT group home for teens, raised close to $300.<br />
<br />
___<br />
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From one another and from God, we pray forgiveness for our part in the way our communities have been bruised and our world torn apart. We repent for words and deeds that provoke prejudice, hatred, and revenge. God of compassion and healing<br />
<b>Hear our prayer</b><br />
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Deliver us from suspicions and fears that stand in the way of reconciliation, particularly holding in love those who are Muslim who experience discrimination. God of compassion and healing<br />
<b>Hear our prayer</b><br />
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Deliver us from our unwillingness to confront our own privilege: racial, economic, by gender or sexual orientation, God of compassion and healing<br />
<b>Hear our prayer</b><br />
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For the community of the Pulse nightclub. For bartenders and bouncers, for DJs and dancers. For all who made it a place of refuge and safety, that a sanctuary may be restored. God of compassion and healing<br />
<b>Hear our prayer</b><br />
<br />
We pray in hope that our beautiful world can be transformed through love and beauty. For all who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender. For hearts to know God’s love revealed in all God’s children. God of compassion and healing<br />
<b>Hear our prayer</b><br />
<br />
We pray in thanksgiving for our many religious traditions, and for the many names by which you are known, O God. For Yhwh, Allah, Spirit, and Christ. God of compassion and healing<br />
<b>Hear our prayer</b><br />
<br />
We pray for fair politics and brave leaders. For an end to gun violence, for an end to the quiet assumption that nothing can be done and that carnage is inevitable. Give us the gift of holy hope,<br />
<b>And by your grace and healing presence join our hearts to yours.</b><br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
Miss the sermon on 6/12? It’s <a href="https://soundcloud.com/sara-irwin-530951447/pentecost-4-2016">here</a>!Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8378171186067692398.post-57642907099273774092016-06-09T14:00:00.000-07:002016-07-25T10:19:17.785-07:00In the Season of Church RetreatsDear People of Christ Church,<br />
In the “institutional church” structures where I run, this is the season of the long-meeting-masquerading-as-retreat. I serve on several diocesan bodies, and we are all having our annual “retreats” this time of year—actually, just really long meetings that are labeled retreats so we’ll all feel better about blocking off huge time chunks on our calendars. We had our “retreat” for the Commission on Ministry, the group that works with the ordination process for priests and deacons and came out of it with a whole lot of great “fixes” for our work together, but it was short of a retreat. Next week I have a 5 hour meeting with the bishop and the council of deans—my guess is that we will come out of that with some great ideas, too, but that it might be just short of spiritually refreshing. I’m proud to say that our own annual vestry retreat is, in fact, a retreat!<br />
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Today, though, I had the pleasure of one of those long meetings that actually was a retreat. A small group of those ministering in Waltham have been meeting for many years as the interfaith “Waltham Ministerial Association” for support and community. Rabbi David from Temple Beth Israel led us in a storytelling workshop. Rev. Marc from First Parish made lentil soup. In the afternoon, Becky from Chaplains on the Way offered us the labyrinth that COTW uses in their ministry. Since COTW has moved to Christ Church, they host monthly labyrinth walks for their community right here in our parish hall, most recently this past Wednesday.<br />
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I’ve always really loved the labyrinth as a symbol—the idea is found in all kinds of spiritual communities. In Christianity, though, they began to catch on in the middle ages when it became popular for people to go on pilgrimage to Jerusalem and other sacred sites. For those who couldn’t, the labyrinth was presented as a way of engaging the prayer of movement and spiritual journey without the hardship of actual travel. One of the most famous ones is in <a href="http://www.luc.edu/medieval/labyrinths/chartres.shtml">Chartres Cathedral</a>. There’s one on the cover of our Pentecost bulletins. I have one on my ankle, too.<br />
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In a labyrinth, the pilgrim has a destination: there is a center to it, and each step brings you closer. This is as opposed to a maze, which tries to get you lost. The circuits of a labyrinth bring you closer to the center, then further out, then close again. You think you’re almost there, but then find yourself in a different direction. You think you are furthest away from your destination, and suddenly it appears close on the horizon. As you walk, your breathing has a chance to calm, your body settles, and, ever so silently, you might hear God whispering.<br />
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Blessings,<br />
Sara+<br />
<br />
Have a few minutes? “Walk” a labyrinth with author <a href="http://janrichardson.com/">Jan Richardson</a>. The video is 9 minutes long. Find it on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PD6K__gDBuA">youtube</a>.Christ Church E Crierhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13449741610028383244noreply@blogger.com0