Dear People of Christ Church,
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 The Takeaway. 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.
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.
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.
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!
The Christmas story is about possibility, solidarity, joy, and love.
Definitely words I want to write my story with.
Blessings,
Sara+
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Thursday, December 15, 2016
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Swimming During the Rain Storm
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week I’m looking forward to talking with our kids about Lent in the children’s sermon this Sunday. It’s such an interesting opportunity to think about moving toward Lent with kids, who don’t have any of the same baggage as many of us end up with about the season. We are invited to observe Lent with the same intimacy with God as Jesus did—he went to the wilderness after his baptism to spend time with his Abba. That’s what it’s about for us, too.
But… Intimacy with God for us is a bit trickier than it was for Jesus. When we enter Lent longing for intimacy, we are necessarily called to look at the things that block our closeness with God. The word for that, of course, is sin. The hard part about sin (as if there were only one) is that in trying to figure out sin, we are already wrapped up in it. It’s like trying to get dry after a swim during a rain storm—you can get out of the pool and use as many towels as you want, but it’ll still going to be raining on the walk home and you’ll get wet again. Sin gets us stuck in our own stories about our innocence and others’ guilt. In shame. In paralysis. Vulnerability is embarrassing. We don’t want to ask for help, even from God who loves us more than anything. So even in trying to look honestly at our sin, we end up doing it in kind of a sinful way. Examining my white privilege makes me feel stuck, so I do nothing. Thinking about my lack of compassion for others, I deflect blame on to their slowness, not my impatience. My car uses too much gas and I let my kids watch too much TV. I squeeze prayer in at the margins of my day, not the center. There are many sins. You have your list, I have mine.
This Sunday will be the second time we hand out “Lent in a bag” for kids at the children’s sermon. None of the symbols in it have anything to do with how terrible we are. They’ll get sand, as a reminder of Jesus’ time in the desert wilderness. Two clothespin people: one larger (Jesus), one smaller (that’s us). A seashell. Are there seashells in the desert? Nope. But the Holy Spirit always has a surprise or two up her sleeve, and we need to remember that. Also: a rock, since things can get hard, and a candle, for light. Also a heart for God’s love.
I was talking to someone recently who commented that they felt in need of Lent, that it had been feeling like a very tender time in their life. I so appreciate that articulation—when we are feeling fragile and sensitive, what better time than Lent to come and remind us of whose we are? The life we find in Lent is real—that list of sins doesn’t go away—so it’s true that it’s not all seashells and hearts and clothespin people. If we are trusting God, though, really, really trusting, it becomes possible to confront our frailties and selfishness and occasional just-plain-being-a-jerk-ness with God, rather than muddling through on our own. Trying to fix all my sinful ways on my own is a sin, too—I’m not going to be able to save myself.
Times like this, I am especially grateful for our liturgical church. I don’t have to understand everything. Next Wednesday, we’ll put ashes on our heads and pray on our knees. God will do the rest. Kids know that, and I look forward to listening with them on Sunday.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week I’m looking forward to talking with our kids about Lent in the children’s sermon this Sunday. It’s such an interesting opportunity to think about moving toward Lent with kids, who don’t have any of the same baggage as many of us end up with about the season. We are invited to observe Lent with the same intimacy with God as Jesus did—he went to the wilderness after his baptism to spend time with his Abba. That’s what it’s about for us, too.
But… Intimacy with God for us is a bit trickier than it was for Jesus. When we enter Lent longing for intimacy, we are necessarily called to look at the things that block our closeness with God. The word for that, of course, is sin. The hard part about sin (as if there were only one) is that in trying to figure out sin, we are already wrapped up in it. It’s like trying to get dry after a swim during a rain storm—you can get out of the pool and use as many towels as you want, but it’ll still going to be raining on the walk home and you’ll get wet again. Sin gets us stuck in our own stories about our innocence and others’ guilt. In shame. In paralysis. Vulnerability is embarrassing. We don’t want to ask for help, even from God who loves us more than anything. So even in trying to look honestly at our sin, we end up doing it in kind of a sinful way. Examining my white privilege makes me feel stuck, so I do nothing. Thinking about my lack of compassion for others, I deflect blame on to their slowness, not my impatience. My car uses too much gas and I let my kids watch too much TV. I squeeze prayer in at the margins of my day, not the center. There are many sins. You have your list, I have mine.
This Sunday will be the second time we hand out “Lent in a bag” for kids at the children’s sermon. None of the symbols in it have anything to do with how terrible we are. They’ll get sand, as a reminder of Jesus’ time in the desert wilderness. Two clothespin people: one larger (Jesus), one smaller (that’s us). A seashell. Are there seashells in the desert? Nope. But the Holy Spirit always has a surprise or two up her sleeve, and we need to remember that. Also: a rock, since things can get hard, and a candle, for light. Also a heart for God’s love.
I was talking to someone recently who commented that they felt in need of Lent, that it had been feeling like a very tender time in their life. I so appreciate that articulation—when we are feeling fragile and sensitive, what better time than Lent to come and remind us of whose we are? The life we find in Lent is real—that list of sins doesn’t go away—so it’s true that it’s not all seashells and hearts and clothespin people. If we are trusting God, though, really, really trusting, it becomes possible to confront our frailties and selfishness and occasional just-plain-being-a-jerk-ness with God, rather than muddling through on our own. Trying to fix all my sinful ways on my own is a sin, too—I’m not going to be able to save myself.
Times like this, I am especially grateful for our liturgical church. I don’t have to understand everything. Next Wednesday, we’ll put ashes on our heads and pray on our knees. God will do the rest. Kids know that, and I look forward to listening with them on Sunday.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, May 1, 2014
God’s Vision, our vision
Dear People of Christ
Church
Blessings on your continued celebration of Easter! We had a
wonderful celebration of Holy Week and Easter at Christ
Church
Earlier this week, I spent time with our bishops and other
priests of the diocese at our annual Clergy Conference, where we meet all
together for several days on the Cape . We had a chance
to tell stories and say goodbye to Bishop Shaw. As I mentioned in my
Easter season, his vulnerability in his illness and upcoming departure have
been an amazing example of Easter-Christ is raised even in illness and
infirmity in how we are honest with each other, how we share our lives even in
our suffering.
As you heard in the letter that was read in churches across
the diocese on Sunday, Tom is so grateful for his time as bishop-and grateful
to each of you for your part in making our diocese what it is (the text is
available here). In
talking with us at clergy conference Tom said that he didn't really think he'd
like being bishop; he thought he'd maybe stay for 10 years or so. Twenty
years later, it's been so much better than he'd expected. God's vision for his
life and ministry, he said, has been 100 times greater than his own, 100 times
more generous and positive and daring.
We at Christ Church are also seeking to live into God's 100
times bigger vision-this week, vestry voted to fund the creation of a quarter-time
director of children's religious education, who will be responsible for working
with me and our lay leaders to develop a comprehensive program for education as
well as facilitate day to day operations and special events. While money is
tight-it always is-we are moving forward in faith and on the strength of our
increased stewardship giving for 2014. We imagined "More," and now
we're making it happen! We hope that this staff expansion will help
our programs to serve our families better and to nurture our children in faith.
Witnessing the spiritual life of children is a great gift-at
church with Adah this past Sunday it was a treat to actually be with her
on a Sunday. Seeing her drive her car up and down the pew, watching her open
hands receive the body of Christ-for her, there's a given-ness to God's
nourishment and safety. She takes it for granted that church is her place-sometimes
it's boring, sometimes it's too loud, sometimes it's too quiet-but she doesn't
question whether the life of Jesus in the church is hers. And that
is a wonder. Thanks to each one of you who are making it possible for us to
better serve our kids, and to learn from the grace of their presence.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Grace, penitence, and the Elf on the shelf
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, my facebook feed has been roughly divided evenly among two hot topics in church geekery: pronouncements on the Elf on a Shelf and pronouncements on the eternal war between blue and purple for Advent colors. You will be forgiven if you did not realize these debates were a thing.
As Henry pointed out in church on Sunday when I asked what was different and he exclaimed, "You should be wearing green!" you've probably noticed that the colors have changed for church. Advent is purple, after such a long season of green since Pentecost last June it's no wonder Henry thought it was Just Wrong. He's not the only one who would say that, though, as the partisans in the Blue vs Purple war are all aflutter. Remember what other season is purple? LENT! Do you immediately think of Lent's solemnity and penitence when you think about Advent? You probably don't. Enter: blue. The tradition of using blue for Advent is a medieval tradition that goes back to a knot of ritual practices from the Salisbury Cathedral in the eleventh century that were distinctly English as opposed to Roman. They were Anglican before Anglicanism was cool but also still really "Catholic," pre Reformation as it was. And so in the late nineteenth/ early twentieth century enjoyed quite a revival, today revealing itself in the use of "Sarum blue" in Advent.
The idea with blue is that it visually shifts the emphasis to expectation, not penitence; Lent is when we thing about amending our lives, not Advent. It reminds us of Mary, too. So why don't we use blue at Christ Church? Because in defining Advent against a too-sin-focused Lent, we miss the boat on both Advent and Lent. It's not that our usual understanding of Advent needs less Lent. It's that our usual understanding of Lent needs more Advent (and, of course, we're not going out to spend a bunch of money on new altar hangings).
Here's the thing. What Lent and Advent both have in common more than penitence is grace: the joining of human and divine at Christmas happens for everyone and for all time. You don't earn it. You don't prove yourself. Nobody's reporting back to tattle. Whether you read the Gospel of Matthew (magi) or Luke (shepherds) the birth is heralded by some pretty sketchy characters. Like the resurrection we prepare for in Lent, it's an act of crushing generosity and love that flattens any of our own pretensions to earning our way in. It's a pure gift. Here's where the elf on the shelf comes in: that sucker is supposed to be watching, reporting back to Santa every night. Elf on the shelf is old-style Ash Wednesday, when we catalogue our failures and focus on all the ways we don't measure up. But we only do that for one day-we don't spend a whole season on it, and it's always grounded in the love of God that makes it even possible for us to withstand that honesty.
As a parent of young children I don't hold anything against anyone for trying to extract some better behavior for a time. I also love the idea of an enchanted world where the humdrum stuff that surrounds us come to life. Have you seen Dinovember? You probably want to give your kids Christmas presents, right? Because it's fun. You don't love them any less when they're behaving badly. I mean, the elf probably makes them happy too, but I just wonder if it could seem a bit less failure oriented? Christmas is about so much more. And so is Advent, and Easter, and Lent. Now I have to go find my coffee cup because I think St Peter climbed out of his icon and hid it again.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, my facebook feed has been roughly divided evenly among two hot topics in church geekery: pronouncements on the Elf on a Shelf and pronouncements on the eternal war between blue and purple for Advent colors. You will be forgiven if you did not realize these debates were a thing.
As Henry pointed out in church on Sunday when I asked what was different and he exclaimed, "You should be wearing green!" you've probably noticed that the colors have changed for church. Advent is purple, after such a long season of green since Pentecost last June it's no wonder Henry thought it was Just Wrong. He's not the only one who would say that, though, as the partisans in the Blue vs Purple war are all aflutter. Remember what other season is purple? LENT! Do you immediately think of Lent's solemnity and penitence when you think about Advent? You probably don't. Enter: blue. The tradition of using blue for Advent is a medieval tradition that goes back to a knot of ritual practices from the Salisbury Cathedral in the eleventh century that were distinctly English as opposed to Roman. They were Anglican before Anglicanism was cool but also still really "Catholic," pre Reformation as it was. And so in the late nineteenth/ early twentieth century enjoyed quite a revival, today revealing itself in the use of "Sarum blue" in Advent.
The idea with blue is that it visually shifts the emphasis to expectation, not penitence; Lent is when we thing about amending our lives, not Advent. It reminds us of Mary, too. So why don't we use blue at Christ Church? Because in defining Advent against a too-sin-focused Lent, we miss the boat on both Advent and Lent. It's not that our usual understanding of Advent needs less Lent. It's that our usual understanding of Lent needs more Advent (and, of course, we're not going out to spend a bunch of money on new altar hangings).
Here's the thing. What Lent and Advent both have in common more than penitence is grace: the joining of human and divine at Christmas happens for everyone and for all time. You don't earn it. You don't prove yourself. Nobody's reporting back to tattle. Whether you read the Gospel of Matthew (magi) or Luke (shepherds) the birth is heralded by some pretty sketchy characters. Like the resurrection we prepare for in Lent, it's an act of crushing generosity and love that flattens any of our own pretensions to earning our way in. It's a pure gift. Here's where the elf on the shelf comes in: that sucker is supposed to be watching, reporting back to Santa every night. Elf on the shelf is old-style Ash Wednesday, when we catalogue our failures and focus on all the ways we don't measure up. But we only do that for one day-we don't spend a whole season on it, and it's always grounded in the love of God that makes it even possible for us to withstand that honesty.
As a parent of young children I don't hold anything against anyone for trying to extract some better behavior for a time. I also love the idea of an enchanted world where the humdrum stuff that surrounds us come to life. Have you seen Dinovember? You probably want to give your kids Christmas presents, right? Because it's fun. You don't love them any less when they're behaving badly. I mean, the elf probably makes them happy too, but I just wonder if it could seem a bit less failure oriented? Christmas is about so much more. And so is Advent, and Easter, and Lent. Now I have to go find my coffee cup because I think St Peter climbed out of his icon and hid it again.
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Praying with angels
Dear People of Christ Church,
Last week we prayed over our backpacks, the week before we prayed over Emma leaving for college, and this Sunday we'll pray over our children's education folks, thanking them for their service and asking God's blessing on their most holy work. We also prayed for a moment of silence for peace in Syria, prayed for pets and parents as part of our children's sermon, and, of course, we pray every time we celebrate communion-"send your Holy Spirit on these gifts your earth has formed and human hands have made." Church involves a lot of praying, in routine and not-so-routine ways.
But what are we doing, really?
In our series on prayer last year for Lent, Jose shared the prayers of Kierkegaard-"the function of prayer is to change the one who is praying, not the God to whom we pray."
We'll leave aside for now the bigger theological debates about how God is present in bread and wine at Eucharist-our Anglican tradition leaves that to the individual conscience apart from reassuring us that Christ is "really" present. The personal significance to Jesus Christ of our little backpacks and lunch boxes may not be much. But when we place those things at the altar for blessing, we're saying to each other and to ourselves, and to God, "Ok-this is it. I have my mind, my soul, my heart, and my body-and I have these tools to help me do what I have to do. Let these things, along with your love, along with my family and my friends-let even my backpack be something to remind me that I'm not alone.
In the letter to the Hebrews we heard this past Sunday, St Paul reminds the people of the story of Abraham and Sarah, that "some have entertained angels unawares." Before God named them Abraham and Sarah, they were plain old Abram and Sarai, just being kind to strangers. But, as the story in Genesis 18 goes, those strangers turned out to be angels announcing that Sarai would have a child. She who had lost hope of giving birth would be the one in whom the world was blessed. Who knows where we'd be if Abram had told those mysterious travelers that he and Sarai were too busy or didn't have enough resources to help.
The point of the story is that God shows up everywhere, sometimes in the least likely places bringing the least likely gifts. Remembering that even our backpacks can be holy is good practice for looking for God in all of those random corners and different places. Drawing their own angel wings, I encouraged our kids to remember that they, too, could be angels, reaching out to others, especially heading back to school when there would be new people and new things going on.
Remembering that even our stuff can be a reminder of God's presence also leads me to a pitch for our fall education, which extends the conversation to our time. We'll be looking at the ideas in Mark Scandrette's Free: Spending Your Time and Money on What Matters Most. Scandrette invites us to think together from a Christian perspective about how we use these resources and how we can consciously choose to live well and free lives as God desires for us. The book should be in at Back Pages (at a 15% discount!) early next week-call the bookstore to confirm (781) 209-0631.
If there's interest, we'll add an all-ages part (for which we need both children to attend and adults to staff it-RSVP in our survey... ).
Blessings,
Sara+
Last week we prayed over our backpacks, the week before we prayed over Emma leaving for college, and this Sunday we'll pray over our children's education folks, thanking them for their service and asking God's blessing on their most holy work. We also prayed for a moment of silence for peace in Syria, prayed for pets and parents as part of our children's sermon, and, of course, we pray every time we celebrate communion-"send your Holy Spirit on these gifts your earth has formed and human hands have made." Church involves a lot of praying, in routine and not-so-routine ways.
But what are we doing, really?
In our series on prayer last year for Lent, Jose shared the prayers of Kierkegaard-"the function of prayer is to change the one who is praying, not the God to whom we pray."
We'll leave aside for now the bigger theological debates about how God is present in bread and wine at Eucharist-our Anglican tradition leaves that to the individual conscience apart from reassuring us that Christ is "really" present. The personal significance to Jesus Christ of our little backpacks and lunch boxes may not be much. But when we place those things at the altar for blessing, we're saying to each other and to ourselves, and to God, "Ok-this is it. I have my mind, my soul, my heart, and my body-and I have these tools to help me do what I have to do. Let these things, along with your love, along with my family and my friends-let even my backpack be something to remind me that I'm not alone.
In the letter to the Hebrews we heard this past Sunday, St Paul reminds the people of the story of Abraham and Sarah, that "some have entertained angels unawares." Before God named them Abraham and Sarah, they were plain old Abram and Sarai, just being kind to strangers. But, as the story in Genesis 18 goes, those strangers turned out to be angels announcing that Sarai would have a child. She who had lost hope of giving birth would be the one in whom the world was blessed. Who knows where we'd be if Abram had told those mysterious travelers that he and Sarai were too busy or didn't have enough resources to help.
The point of the story is that God shows up everywhere, sometimes in the least likely places bringing the least likely gifts. Remembering that even our backpacks can be holy is good practice for looking for God in all of those random corners and different places. Drawing their own angel wings, I encouraged our kids to remember that they, too, could be angels, reaching out to others, especially heading back to school when there would be new people and new things going on.
Remembering that even our stuff can be a reminder of God's presence also leads me to a pitch for our fall education, which extends the conversation to our time. We'll be looking at the ideas in Mark Scandrette's Free: Spending Your Time and Money on What Matters Most. Scandrette invites us to think together from a Christian perspective about how we use these resources and how we can consciously choose to live well and free lives as God desires for us. The book should be in at Back Pages (at a 15% discount!) early next week-call the bookstore to confirm (781) 209-0631.
If there's interest, we'll add an all-ages part (for which we need both children to attend and adults to staff it-RSVP in our survey... ).
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
From May 23: Most Kind and Gentle Death
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, I'm writing early, getting ready to fly to Sweden to be with my aunt Barbro. She was diagnosed with lung cancer this spring and has taken a turn for the worse. I should only be gone for a week, but I do regret that I'll miss our festive joint Pentecost service with St Peter's, this Sunday at 11. Matt is preaching and Rev. Mary will celebrate, so it will still be a great celebration! Norm Faramelli has graciously agreed to take the 8:30 service so there will be Eucharist then as well. Please come!
Meanwhile, I've been trying to justify my time away to my children, who are not too pleased about it. Explaining things to them so often is another way of explaining things to myself; in the midst of creating their own worlds, they ask all the hard questions that help me to consider why I really do believe what I do. Most powerfully, they also keep me accountable, pushing me to re-evaluate the half-truths I'm sometimes willing to settle for. Still, talking about death with a five year old is something else altogether (my 2 ½ year old doesn't get it at all, which is fine!).
Isaiah is quite aware that his Saturday playground plans get put on hold for burials, but trying to explain the matrix of faith and sadness that comes together when one of "our own" is dying is another story. We haven't been to Sweden since 2008-when Isaiah was barely 1 ½--so he has no memory of our family there (my mother's whole side of the family, of whom there are not many more). I have been trying to explain to him how I want to go before my aunt dies, to see her before I can't see her anymore. At the same time, I am also explaining that she will be with God, and that everyone dies eventually, so even though I'm sad, it's not necessarily such a terrible thing because we trust in God's love. I really do believe all the alleluias we throw around at burials in the Episcopal Church.
Still, I'm trying to explain it to him with the background of my own grief; the reason I'm going tomorrow and not waiting until "later" (as I've been putting it off since she was diagnosed) is that her needs are such that she is not going home again, whether she lives for another six days or six weeks. This is the time, and I am incredibly blessed/fortunate/just plain lucky to be able to have a flexible job and a credit card that make it possible. There are not many Johannsons or Irwins, so it's not like I can catch the next family heartbreak at a more convenient time.
Meanwhile, there is that perplexity of "my sorrow" vs. "cosmic joy," not to mention the work my aunt herself is doing. Dying is a verb. Going to be with her is witnessing that. Witnessing, in both senses of the word-to see it, to witness, but also to give witness, to affirm it and show that it is important. Gene Burkart and I were talking about this the other day; in our culture death is somehow left to the experts to "fight." Death is often is seen as happening to us, as though our souls and bodies were not on the same team. I think, though, that death has a lot in common with giving birth-when else are we working so closely with God's work on earth? Both are like standing beside a volcano, both with complexity and grace and risk and wonder.
So thank you for your prayers-especially the wardens, Jonathan and Victoria, who fix everything when I'm away! I'll close with the last verse of the wonderful hymn from St Francis, "All Creatures of our God and King." which we sang a few weeks ago. You can listen to some English children with frilly collars singing it, though unfortunately not all the verses--Click here
And thou, most kind and gentle death,
waiting to hush our latest breath,
O praise him, Alleluia!
Thou leadest home the child of God,
and Christ our Lord the way hath trod
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, I'm writing early, getting ready to fly to Sweden to be with my aunt Barbro. She was diagnosed with lung cancer this spring and has taken a turn for the worse. I should only be gone for a week, but I do regret that I'll miss our festive joint Pentecost service with St Peter's, this Sunday at 11. Matt is preaching and Rev. Mary will celebrate, so it will still be a great celebration! Norm Faramelli has graciously agreed to take the 8:30 service so there will be Eucharist then as well. Please come!
Meanwhile, I've been trying to justify my time away to my children, who are not too pleased about it. Explaining things to them so often is another way of explaining things to myself; in the midst of creating their own worlds, they ask all the hard questions that help me to consider why I really do believe what I do. Most powerfully, they also keep me accountable, pushing me to re-evaluate the half-truths I'm sometimes willing to settle for. Still, talking about death with a five year old is something else altogether (my 2 ½ year old doesn't get it at all, which is fine!).
Isaiah is quite aware that his Saturday playground plans get put on hold for burials, but trying to explain the matrix of faith and sadness that comes together when one of "our own" is dying is another story. We haven't been to Sweden since 2008-when Isaiah was barely 1 ½--so he has no memory of our family there (my mother's whole side of the family, of whom there are not many more). I have been trying to explain to him how I want to go before my aunt dies, to see her before I can't see her anymore. At the same time, I am also explaining that she will be with God, and that everyone dies eventually, so even though I'm sad, it's not necessarily such a terrible thing because we trust in God's love. I really do believe all the alleluias we throw around at burials in the Episcopal Church.
Still, I'm trying to explain it to him with the background of my own grief; the reason I'm going tomorrow and not waiting until "later" (as I've been putting it off since she was diagnosed) is that her needs are such that she is not going home again, whether she lives for another six days or six weeks. This is the time, and I am incredibly blessed/fortunate/just plain lucky to be able to have a flexible job and a credit card that make it possible. There are not many Johannsons or Irwins, so it's not like I can catch the next family heartbreak at a more convenient time.
Meanwhile, there is that perplexity of "my sorrow" vs. "cosmic joy," not to mention the work my aunt herself is doing. Dying is a verb. Going to be with her is witnessing that. Witnessing, in both senses of the word-to see it, to witness, but also to give witness, to affirm it and show that it is important. Gene Burkart and I were talking about this the other day; in our culture death is somehow left to the experts to "fight." Death is often is seen as happening to us, as though our souls and bodies were not on the same team. I think, though, that death has a lot in common with giving birth-when else are we working so closely with God's work on earth? Both are like standing beside a volcano, both with complexity and grace and risk and wonder.
So thank you for your prayers-especially the wardens, Jonathan and Victoria, who fix everything when I'm away! I'll close with the last verse of the wonderful hymn from St Francis, "All Creatures of our God and King." which we sang a few weeks ago. You can listen to some English children with frilly collars singing it, though unfortunately not all the verses--Click here
And thou, most kind and gentle death,
waiting to hush our latest breath,
O praise him, Alleluia!
Thou leadest home the child of God,
and Christ our Lord the way hath trod
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Children's Sunday changes, and a welcoming community
This week, we'll celebrate our regular first Sunday of the month children's Sunday. This year, we're going to try something a little different for children's Sundays. We're scaling back the every month children's Sunday just a little--we'll still do the children's sermon instead of the "regular" one, but I won't have all the kids up at the altar. At the same time, we'll ramp up and have two larger scale kids' Sundays a year, where kids will be at the altar helping to bless the bread and the wine, as well as doing the oblations, the readings, etc. The first big kids' Sunday will be on October 3, when we'll also celebrate "Creation Sunday," and encourage everyone to walk, bike, or carpool to church. After all, part of the reason we conserve is to have a healthy earth for future generations. It's also St Francis Day weekend, so stay tuned for some possible animal-blessing announcements.
Whether you have kids or not, the children who are part of our community have a connection to you--even if you don't know it. We all form part of the community they will carry with them for all their lives. Having our kids in church every month is a blessing to all of us. It reminds us that you never have to wait to receive the blessings of God. I'd also like to pass on a few thoughts about kids in church from children's educator Rhonda Waters, a friend of mine who'll soon be ordained in Montreal. She offers some suggestions for families, and for the wider congregation:
+Small children like to wander. Rejoice if you have a wanderer in your midst -- it's a sign that she/he feels safe in your community. And remember -- a wandering child is almost always quieter than an uncomfortable and restless child. Parents, do know where your kids are, but don't be too mortified if they climb the chancel steps.
+Sunday School is important but so is incorporating kids into the worshipping community. In fact, Sunday School can become a problem if it serves only to separate kids from the rest of the Body of Christ -- de-corporating the worshipping community, if you will. We are one body in Christ--each one of us.
+Kids should be seated where they can see what's going on. The front of a church actually has quite a lot to look at and quite a few people move around over the course of a service. Children who can see are more apt to pay attention because there is something to pay attention to. Families, sit near the front!
I am so grateful for the ways Christ Church is a welcoming community to everyone. Single adults, older adults, families, couples--thanks to each of you for making this community a place with holy--and whole--worship for all.
Blessings,
Sara+
Whether you have kids or not, the children who are part of our community have a connection to you--even if you don't know it. We all form part of the community they will carry with them for all their lives. Having our kids in church every month is a blessing to all of us. It reminds us that you never have to wait to receive the blessings of God. I'd also like to pass on a few thoughts about kids in church from children's educator Rhonda Waters, a friend of mine who'll soon be ordained in Montreal. She offers some suggestions for families, and for the wider congregation:
+Small children like to wander. Rejoice if you have a wanderer in your midst -- it's a sign that she/he feels safe in your community. And remember -- a wandering child is almost always quieter than an uncomfortable and restless child. Parents, do know where your kids are, but don't be too mortified if they climb the chancel steps.
+Sunday School is important but so is incorporating kids into the worshipping community. In fact, Sunday School can become a problem if it serves only to separate kids from the rest of the Body of Christ -- de-corporating the worshipping community, if you will. We are one body in Christ--each one of us.
+Kids should be seated where they can see what's going on. The front of a church actually has quite a lot to look at and quite a few people move around over the course of a service. Children who can see are more apt to pay attention because there is something to pay attention to. Families, sit near the front!
I am so grateful for the ways Christ Church is a welcoming community to everyone. Single adults, older adults, families, couples--thanks to each of you for making this community a place with holy--and whole--worship for all.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Summer's Theme: Youth and Young Adults
This week, I'm trying to tie up all my loose ends before my vacation starts on Monday. I've been struck recently about how the theme for this summer at Christ Church seems to be youth and young adults:
We hosted New England Climate Summer last week (last week's e crier post was about them--if you missed it, you can see it on the blog).
We worked at B Safe last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday:
B Safe is the Episcopal urban day camp we've volunteered with for several years. This year, we added an extra day, helping for 3 days instead of 2 as we have in the past. In sponsoring days at B Safe, we are responsible for providing lunch and paying for a Friday field trip. As one of the kids said to Bill on Wednesday, "You're the guy with the good sandwiches!" --chicken salad, not just tuna! Christ Church has been very generous with donations--about $525 gathered so far--but we are still $164.00 short of covering the cost, so if you have funds to spare, we are still collecting. Special thanks to Bill Fowler for organizing us, and to everyone who made lunches and came to Houghton's Pond and St Augustine and St Martin's in Roxbury.
We have been getting ready to (hopefully) host an intern from the Micah Project:
Rev Christine Nakyeyune, the pastor of St Peter's, and I have been interviewing candidates for an intern position as part of the diocesan Micah Project program. If we are matched with the right person, an intern for 30 hours per week will work with Christ Church and St Peter's to facilitate our joint work, and also help out in each individual congregation. The selection process is, in the end, up to the director of the Micah Project, but I am hopeful that we'll have a person work with us. They'd be here September 2010-July 2011.
This week we are work site for young people from Rediscovery, Inc:
Rediscovery is a local non profit that serves those who are "aging out" of the foster care system. Working with ages 16-24, they help provide resources for children to gain leadership, employment, and life skills. Rediscovery has an impressive record of success. 72% of youth have either received a high school diploma or GED or are on track to do so before leaving their care, compared with 33% average among all youth aging out of foster care. The Rediscovery program we're involved in is a grant they received for summer jobs; for an eight week period, crews of workers go from site to site helping out in the community (at no cost to the host). Here at Christ Church, they painted our bike rack (by the way--thanks to Plug & Play for donating it, and Ken Johnson for delivery) and put a coat of waterproofing on the handicap ramp. They also painted the downstairs back hallway for us, and are now working on the entry way and stairs down to Lower Fales Hall and the Grandma's Panty area. We are thankful for Rediscovery's work with these young people, and thankful that we can benefit from their hard work! Thanks to Warren Barret, Peter Lobo and Jonathan Duce for their support of this project as well.
Our confirmation students' book drive just wrapped up, and our partnership with Children of Incarcerated Parents is beginning with our drive for school supplies. So many thanks to those who have, and will, donate!
I am so proud of how we have been able to open our building, and ourselves, to the needs and gifts of the community around us. Every summer, I think, "Maybe it will slow down this year..." and it never quite does. Thanks be to God!
Blessings,
Sara+
We hosted New England Climate Summer last week (last week's e crier post was about them--if you missed it, you can see it on the blog).
We worked at B Safe last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday:
B Safe is the Episcopal urban day camp we've volunteered with for several years. This year, we added an extra day, helping for 3 days instead of 2 as we have in the past. In sponsoring days at B Safe, we are responsible for providing lunch and paying for a Friday field trip. As one of the kids said to Bill on Wednesday, "You're the guy with the good sandwiches!" --chicken salad, not just tuna! Christ Church has been very generous with donations--about $525 gathered so far--but we are still $164.00 short of covering the cost, so if you have funds to spare, we are still collecting. Special thanks to Bill Fowler for organizing us, and to everyone who made lunches and came to Houghton's Pond and St Augustine and St Martin's in Roxbury.
We have been getting ready to (hopefully) host an intern from the Micah Project:
Rev Christine Nakyeyune, the pastor of St Peter's, and I have been interviewing candidates for an intern position as part of the diocesan Micah Project program. If we are matched with the right person, an intern for 30 hours per week will work with Christ Church and St Peter's to facilitate our joint work, and also help out in each individual congregation. The selection process is, in the end, up to the director of the Micah Project, but I am hopeful that we'll have a person work with us. They'd be here September 2010-July 2011.
This week we are work site for young people from Rediscovery, Inc:
Rediscovery is a local non profit that serves those who are "aging out" of the foster care system. Working with ages 16-24, they help provide resources for children to gain leadership, employment, and life skills. Rediscovery has an impressive record of success. 72% of youth have either received a high school diploma or GED or are on track to do so before leaving their care, compared with 33% average among all youth aging out of foster care. The Rediscovery program we're involved in is a grant they received for summer jobs; for an eight week period, crews of workers go from site to site helping out in the community (at no cost to the host). Here at Christ Church, they painted our bike rack (by the way--thanks to Plug & Play for donating it, and Ken Johnson for delivery) and put a coat of waterproofing on the handicap ramp. They also painted the downstairs back hallway for us, and are now working on the entry way and stairs down to Lower Fales Hall and the Grandma's Panty area. We are thankful for Rediscovery's work with these young people, and thankful that we can benefit from their hard work! Thanks to Warren Barret, Peter Lobo and Jonathan Duce for their support of this project as well.
Our confirmation students' book drive just wrapped up, and our partnership with Children of Incarcerated Parents is beginning with our drive for school supplies. So many thanks to those who have, and will, donate!
I am so proud of how we have been able to open our building, and ourselves, to the needs and gifts of the community around us. Every summer, I think, "Maybe it will slow down this year..." and it never quite does. Thanks be to God!
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Call to joy
Despite the fact that Ash Wednesday is in a week, I'm suppressing the desire to write about Lent; it isn't here yet, and there is still quite a bit of celebrating to do between now and then--one baptism and one pancake supper (and, of course, one vestry meeting--but it's possible that that isn't as much an occasion for fireworks). One of the most wonderful things about observing a liturgical year is also one of the most challenging--how in the world do we stay where we are? How can we not look forward, or look back? How to stay gazing out from the mountain top (this Sunday's Gospel) without descending into the valley of the desert (the first Sunday of Lent)?
This past Sunday, we had a children's sermon and a wonderful group of kids come up and sit together. Our Gospel was the story of Jesus calling Simon Peter and James and John. Jesus is teaching by the lake, and climbs into Peter's boat so the people can hear him better. Discouraged by not having caught anything all night, Peter lets him in and listens to him teach. Jesus tells him to let down the nets, and all are astounded at the enormous catch--so many fish it nearly sank the boat. Peter and his friends then leave everything to follow Jesus, who tells them that they'll fish for people from now on.
This story is powerful for me because it reminds me that wherever I go, and whatever I do, God is with me. God gives us our gifts to be used in the service of God. Everyone has some skill that gives glory to the One who created us. For our kids' sermon I invited the kids to write their gifts on their own fish, and the answers were as varied as our kids (though "annoying my sister" did come up twice...). Whether dancing, reading, smiling, canoeing, writing, drawing, playing piano or soccer, or just playing, our kids give glory to God, and they know it. Ella Hobin is fond of castles. So is my son Isaiah.
But we forget. We know that God takes pleasure in them just as we do, but we forget that God takes pleasure in us, too. As Brother Roger of Taizé reminds us, Christ's call is to joy, not gloom.
It's a good time to remember that call, and soak up as much as we can. It might seem paradoxical to feel a call to joy so close to Lent, but I think it's a good time for it. Brother Roger's counterpoint is instructive. The opposite of joy isn't sadness--there is plenty of that in life, and even in the life of faith there is space for it. But gloom is something else--gloom is when we are turned inward and see only our own anxiety and our own worries. It's essentially self-ish; centered on the self, it takes ME and MINE as the most important category.
So for now, there is celebration--leave the mourning to Lent, but remember that even then there is space for joy, the joyful freedom of life centered on Christ's self-giving love for us. But for today, look for both the joy and celebration that meet us and love us where we are.
Blessings,
Sara+
This past Sunday, we had a children's sermon and a wonderful group of kids come up and sit together. Our Gospel was the story of Jesus calling Simon Peter and James and John. Jesus is teaching by the lake, and climbs into Peter's boat so the people can hear him better. Discouraged by not having caught anything all night, Peter lets him in and listens to him teach. Jesus tells him to let down the nets, and all are astounded at the enormous catch--so many fish it nearly sank the boat. Peter and his friends then leave everything to follow Jesus, who tells them that they'll fish for people from now on.
This story is powerful for me because it reminds me that wherever I go, and whatever I do, God is with me. God gives us our gifts to be used in the service of God. Everyone has some skill that gives glory to the One who created us. For our kids' sermon I invited the kids to write their gifts on their own fish, and the answers were as varied as our kids (though "annoying my sister" did come up twice...). Whether dancing, reading, smiling, canoeing, writing, drawing, playing piano or soccer, or just playing, our kids give glory to God, and they know it. Ella Hobin is fond of castles. So is my son Isaiah.
But we forget. We know that God takes pleasure in them just as we do, but we forget that God takes pleasure in us, too. As Brother Roger of Taizé reminds us, Christ's call is to joy, not gloom.
It's a good time to remember that call, and soak up as much as we can. It might seem paradoxical to feel a call to joy so close to Lent, but I think it's a good time for it. Brother Roger's counterpoint is instructive. The opposite of joy isn't sadness--there is plenty of that in life, and even in the life of faith there is space for it. But gloom is something else--gloom is when we are turned inward and see only our own anxiety and our own worries. It's essentially self-ish; centered on the self, it takes ME and MINE as the most important category.
So for now, there is celebration--leave the mourning to Lent, but remember that even then there is space for joy, the joyful freedom of life centered on Christ's self-giving love for us. But for today, look for both the joy and celebration that meet us and love us where we are.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, January 8, 2009
From Dec. 23: Christmas Eve Eve
I hope you are having a joyful Eve of Christmas Eve, and that we’ll see you tomorrow for our service at 7:00. Our Christmas celebrations began early with our fabulous pageant on Sunday. Even after three days of snow, we experienced the Christmas story enacted with gusto by the children of Christ Church and St Peter’s Ugandan Anglican Church who worship here on Sundays. I even got to have Isaiah with me at the altar, as he (being astonishingly calm) followed behind me as we celebrated the Eucharist. The script was funny (and biblically accurate), the costumes were fantastic, and the supporting cast of adults did a great job! Many thanks to Jonathan Duce, our director, and Alison Lasiewski and her family, who made a great holy family of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. See www.christchurchwaltham.org to see pictures.
We trudged through the snow back to church at 4:30 for Christingle, also a great event (if a bit smaller than we’d initially hoped, given the weather). A Christingle is an orange, representing the world, with a ribbon circling round, representing the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Four toothpicks with candy on them represent the good gifts of creation (twelve candies and raisins representing the 12 apostles) and the love of God spreading in the four directions. Nothing is outside the reach of God! We sang and enjoyed the choir from St Peter’s, we ate delicious food, and sang Silent Night as the light of Christ (symbolized by our candles in the Christingle oranges) spread through the church and through our lives.
This afternoon, I invite you to a quick moment of prayer and silence before the guests arrive for dinner, before the presents get opened, before the rush carries us away. Here’s a psalm from today’s service for Morning Prayer:
Psalm 67
1 May God be merciful to us and bless us,
show us the light of his countenance and come to us.
2 Let your ways be known upon earth, *
your saving health among all nations.
3 Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.
4 Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, *
for you judge the peoples with equity
and guide all the nations upon earth.
5 Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.
6 The earth has brought forth her increase; *
may God, our own God, give us his blessing.
7 May God give us his blessing, *
and may all the ends of the earth stand in awe of him.
Let us receive God’s blessing, and stand in awe.
We trudged through the snow back to church at 4:30 for Christingle, also a great event (if a bit smaller than we’d initially hoped, given the weather). A Christingle is an orange, representing the world, with a ribbon circling round, representing the love and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Four toothpicks with candy on them represent the good gifts of creation (twelve candies and raisins representing the 12 apostles) and the love of God spreading in the four directions. Nothing is outside the reach of God! We sang and enjoyed the choir from St Peter’s, we ate delicious food, and sang Silent Night as the light of Christ (symbolized by our candles in the Christingle oranges) spread through the church and through our lives.
This afternoon, I invite you to a quick moment of prayer and silence before the guests arrive for dinner, before the presents get opened, before the rush carries us away. Here’s a psalm from today’s service for Morning Prayer:
Psalm 67
1 May God be merciful to us and bless us,
show us the light of his countenance and come to us.
2 Let your ways be known upon earth, *
your saving health among all nations.
3 Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.
4 Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, *
for you judge the peoples with equity
and guide all the nations upon earth.
5 Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.
6 The earth has brought forth her increase; *
may God, our own God, give us his blessing.
7 May God give us his blessing, *
and may all the ends of the earth stand in awe of him.
Let us receive God’s blessing, and stand in awe.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
God's Beloved Children
This morning, as I do every month, I was celebrating the Eucharist with the Sisters of Saint Anne, an Episcopal Convent in Arlington. I had brought along my son, Isaiah, and my mother, who’s visiting this week. Since the service is at 8 am and I couldn’t let him off at daycare before, the idea was for my mom to hold Isaiah during the service, and then we’d drop him off on the way home. Of course, it was not so simple.
The Gospel for the day rather cryptic, so I had already decided to preach on the Epistle instead:
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. (Eph 1: 3-6)
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Salvation is near
This week, we return to our regular schedule of church in full swing, with services at 8 and 10. Since it’s the first Sunday of the month we’ll have all the kids in church with us. Rather than the usual children’s sermon, though, we’ll get to see our Sunday School program, Godly Play, in action. Teacher Jonathan Duce will tell the Creation story in Godly Play style, so all the grownups will be able to see what it’s all about. Christ Church has used the Godly Play curriculum for a number of years now. Based around Montessori techniques of education, it is a child-centered program that tries to respond to where the kids are, rather than transmitting some body of knowledge from “on high.” Based around telling stories of the Bible, the children are invited to ask questions. I wonder why Noah built the ark? I wonder why there were two animals of each kind? The kids gather in a circle, hear the story, “wonder,” and then chose projects (like art or sandbox play) that help them to consider it. After the service, we’re invited to go downstairs to the Godly Play room for an open house.
Salvation is near to us. In acts of love great and small—in writing out your pledge checks, in volunteering at your kids’ school, in working extra hours to support your family, in laughing with your neighbors, in working for peace, in praying for each other. Salvation is near as we all come back from our vacations and settle in at the altar together again. Salvation is near as we learn new things and take on new projects this fall. Salvation is near. Where are you nearing to your salvation? Who are you called to love?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Question Authority
This past Sunday for our usual first-Sunday-of-the-month children’s service at Christ Church, our youth group took parts of our service. Thanks to Caroline Beermann, who lead a reflection with the children, Emma Scalisi who read the Gospel, Devon Franklin who wrote and read the Prayers of the People, and MaryAnn Murray, who lead the psalm and read the second reading. Thanks, too, to Suzanne Hughes, our talented youth group leader (who is also our very talented treasurer) who shepherded them in their preparations for the day.
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