Dear People of Christ Church,
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.
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.
And I’m not gone yet! Over the next six weeks, will have plenty of time to meet for coffee, dream, and pray together. 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! 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.
Blessings,
Sara+
Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Departure Letter
Dear People of Christ Church,
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.
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.
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.
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.
Blessings,
Sara+
From the Wardens
Dear People of Christ Church,
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.
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.
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.
We are grateful for the opportunity to serve as your wardens and for all the gifts of the Christ Church community.
Chris Leonardo and Sasha Killewald, Wardens
For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. – Matthew 18:20
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.
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.
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.
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.
Blessings,
Sara+
From the Wardens
Dear People of Christ Church,
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.
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.
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.
We are grateful for the opportunity to serve as your wardens and for all the gifts of the Christ Church community.
Chris Leonardo and Sasha Killewald, Wardens
For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them. – Matthew 18:20
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Forgive Us Our Debts
Dear People of Christ Church,
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.
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.
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?
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?
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).
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.
Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
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.
Blessings,
Sara+
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.
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.
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?
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?
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).
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.
Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
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.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Two Priests and a Rabbi
Dear People of Christ Church,
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 David Finkelstein 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, Santuario, 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.
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, way under 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.
Why are we doing this again?
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.
So far on our list we have the following for our words of the day:
Television
Food
Bad neighbors
Community
Fear
Belonging
Anger
The City
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 facebook page!
Blessings,
Sara+
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 David Finkelstein 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, Santuario, 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.
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, way under 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.
Why are we doing this again?
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.
So far on our list we have the following for our words of the day:
Television
Food
Bad neighbors
Community
Fear
Belonging
Anger
The City
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 facebook page!
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Dwelling Closer to the Ground
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week we had a terrific first “Intro to the Episcopal Church” class, with about 9 people gathered to talk about our questions, curiosities, and longings for God’s “new thing” happening in our spiritual lives. It’s so exciting to see how the parish changes and grows—almost none of the 9 people gathered at that table were members a year ago, and there they all were, from Catholic and Evangelical and Lutheran and Methodist and all backgrounds in between. This thing that is the church is a living body, not a building or a list of names.
In my sermon on Sunday I was talking about how, in the Gospels we hear the story of Jesus being Jesus Christ, in the book of Acts, which we read every Sunday in Easter season, we hear the story of the church becoming the church. Rather than one single appointed leader taking the place of Jesus, it’s the church—the whole gathered body—that takes on his ministry and presence in the world. Peter and Paul and Mary Magdalene were all important, but it wasn’t just one of them who carried on the work of God in the risen Christ…that takes a whole church.
The church is the Body of Christ, and it needs all of us to be that.
God in the church needs the curiosity of those returning to faith after a time away.
God in the church needs the hunger for community of those who are looking for a place of transcendence and belonging.
God in the church needs the attentiveness to justice and peace of those who dare to ask the hard questions and sit with the hard answers.
God in the church needs your passion for the environment, for children, for elders.
Maybe most important, and first, God in the church needs just your presence. God needs your love, your reverence, your longing for stillness and simplicity.
This past Sunday in our Episcopal Church class we talked about how the basic impulse of Anglicanism, all the way back to King Henry VIII and his somewhat sketchy motivations, is about trying to dwell closer to the ground. In our governance, in our thinking, in our theology, we are all about trying to think and pray in response to the world as it is. When Christ Church developed our parish vision statement a number of years ago we settled on a description of the parish as “grounded in tradition, yet open to the world.” This Sunday, we’ll hear the story in Acts about how the early church grappled with its diversity—Jews and non-Jews didn’t eat together, ever, in ordinary life, much less form a whole community around sharing a meal! But God gives the church a vision of broad inclusion that makes space for every kind of person and every kind of food. One of the best lines in all of Scripture is in this story—“Who was I to hinder God?” Who are we to hinder God? Where is God breaking through your barriers and obstacles this week? Where are you becoming more deeply part of God’s church that needs all of you?
Blessings,
Sara+
This week we had a terrific first “Intro to the Episcopal Church” class, with about 9 people gathered to talk about our questions, curiosities, and longings for God’s “new thing” happening in our spiritual lives. It’s so exciting to see how the parish changes and grows—almost none of the 9 people gathered at that table were members a year ago, and there they all were, from Catholic and Evangelical and Lutheran and Methodist and all backgrounds in between. This thing that is the church is a living body, not a building or a list of names.
In my sermon on Sunday I was talking about how, in the Gospels we hear the story of Jesus being Jesus Christ, in the book of Acts, which we read every Sunday in Easter season, we hear the story of the church becoming the church. Rather than one single appointed leader taking the place of Jesus, it’s the church—the whole gathered body—that takes on his ministry and presence in the world. Peter and Paul and Mary Magdalene were all important, but it wasn’t just one of them who carried on the work of God in the risen Christ…that takes a whole church.
The church is the Body of Christ, and it needs all of us to be that.
God in the church needs the curiosity of those returning to faith after a time away.
God in the church needs the hunger for community of those who are looking for a place of transcendence and belonging.
God in the church needs the attentiveness to justice and peace of those who dare to ask the hard questions and sit with the hard answers.
God in the church needs your passion for the environment, for children, for elders.
Maybe most important, and first, God in the church needs just your presence. God needs your love, your reverence, your longing for stillness and simplicity.
This past Sunday in our Episcopal Church class we talked about how the basic impulse of Anglicanism, all the way back to King Henry VIII and his somewhat sketchy motivations, is about trying to dwell closer to the ground. In our governance, in our thinking, in our theology, we are all about trying to think and pray in response to the world as it is. When Christ Church developed our parish vision statement a number of years ago we settled on a description of the parish as “grounded in tradition, yet open to the world.” This Sunday, we’ll hear the story in Acts about how the early church grappled with its diversity—Jews and non-Jews didn’t eat together, ever, in ordinary life, much less form a whole community around sharing a meal! But God gives the church a vision of broad inclusion that makes space for every kind of person and every kind of food. One of the best lines in all of Scripture is in this story—“Who was I to hinder God?” Who are we to hinder God? Where is God breaking through your barriers and obstacles this week? Where are you becoming more deeply part of God’s church that needs all of you?
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, February 25, 2016
"Meet Your Muslim Neighbor"
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week I’m continuing to mull over the “Meet your Muslim Neighbor” event hosted at Government Center by the new Waltham Center for Community Engagement, and the Waltham League of Women Voters. More than 100 people (including at least ten Christ Churchers!) came to learn, be in solidarity, and meet each other across lines of difference. Attendees were members of the Waltham Islamic Society, who along with the panelists shared stories of gratitude for interfaith connection. I think probably a lot of people could identify with the WIS member who had been on the construction team who said how nice it was to be at government center not trying to get a building permit!
One of the panelists, Unitarian Universalist minister Manish Mishra-Marzetti of First Parish in Lincoln talked about how we as a nation are in a spiritual crisis of fear. I haven’t heard of any stories of interpersonal violence in Waltham, but that doesn’t mean that nothing has happened. The notion that it could be said out loud that an entire religion ought to be banned from entering the United States and that such a position be taken by a leading politician reveals exactly how troubled our culture is.
We are so easily manipulated by fear, but we must find ways to be part of “stories of hope,” as Celene Ibrahim said. The sole woman in the group, she is a PhD candidate at Brandeis and co-director of the Center for Inter-Religious and Communal Leadership Education at Hebrew College and Andover Newton Theological School said (she’s also Muslim Chaplain at Tufts—she is impressive!).
Not just about sharing stories of hope, but being people of hope is what, at their core, all faiths share. The thing that the event on Sunday didn’t quite get to was that being in interfaith dialogue actually makes us better at being who we are in our own faiths as well. The event on Sunday was much more about dispelling myths—speaking into the fear chamber—and that’s very important. One of the panelists pointed out that there is no such thing as radical Islam—there are only radical Muslims. People talk about it as though it’s some monolithic thing, but that really doesn’t exist. There may be a radical community or a radical individual, but terrorists don’t speak for Abdul Cader Asmal, a doctor on the panel, any more than Donald Trump speaks for me.
Chaplain Celene say that in Islam when you pray for others what you’d pray for yourself, that the angels say that prayer for you. How beautiful is that?! We are so enriched by the substance of others’ practices. Learning about others’ experience is about being in relation with each other. It’s not about figuring out who’s right or who’s wrong, or whose practice is more or less liberating or charitable. It’s about the joy of sharing in community, children of a Creator who is beyond all of our grasp.
Blessings,
Sara+
Miss the sermon Sunday, February 21? It’s here.
This week I’m continuing to mull over the “Meet your Muslim Neighbor” event hosted at Government Center by the new Waltham Center for Community Engagement, and the Waltham League of Women Voters. More than 100 people (including at least ten Christ Churchers!) came to learn, be in solidarity, and meet each other across lines of difference. Attendees were members of the Waltham Islamic Society, who along with the panelists shared stories of gratitude for interfaith connection. I think probably a lot of people could identify with the WIS member who had been on the construction team who said how nice it was to be at government center not trying to get a building permit!
One of the panelists, Unitarian Universalist minister Manish Mishra-Marzetti of First Parish in Lincoln talked about how we as a nation are in a spiritual crisis of fear. I haven’t heard of any stories of interpersonal violence in Waltham, but that doesn’t mean that nothing has happened. The notion that it could be said out loud that an entire religion ought to be banned from entering the United States and that such a position be taken by a leading politician reveals exactly how troubled our culture is.
We are so easily manipulated by fear, but we must find ways to be part of “stories of hope,” as Celene Ibrahim said. The sole woman in the group, she is a PhD candidate at Brandeis and co-director of the Center for Inter-Religious and Communal Leadership Education at Hebrew College and Andover Newton Theological School said (she’s also Muslim Chaplain at Tufts—she is impressive!).
Not just about sharing stories of hope, but being people of hope is what, at their core, all faiths share. The thing that the event on Sunday didn’t quite get to was that being in interfaith dialogue actually makes us better at being who we are in our own faiths as well. The event on Sunday was much more about dispelling myths—speaking into the fear chamber—and that’s very important. One of the panelists pointed out that there is no such thing as radical Islam—there are only radical Muslims. People talk about it as though it’s some monolithic thing, but that really doesn’t exist. There may be a radical community or a radical individual, but terrorists don’t speak for Abdul Cader Asmal, a doctor on the panel, any more than Donald Trump speaks for me.
Chaplain Celene say that in Islam when you pray for others what you’d pray for yourself, that the angels say that prayer for you. How beautiful is that?! We are so enriched by the substance of others’ practices. Learning about others’ experience is about being in relation with each other. It’s not about figuring out who’s right or who’s wrong, or whose practice is more or less liberating or charitable. It’s about the joy of sharing in community, children of a Creator who is beyond all of our grasp.
Blessings,
Sara+
Miss the sermon Sunday, February 21? It’s here.
Thursday, November 5, 2015
The Search for Justice
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week our Old Testament reading is from Ruth—we leave Job, and move into several weeks of Old Testament texts about women. Naomi and Ruth this week, Hannah in the book of Samuel next week. Then before we know it, it’s Advent! In trying to come up with something that speaks to a week of elections, though, I find myself back with Job.
Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21).
Job comes to mind not because I feel particularly long-suffering about any of the results of the elections this week, but more because I was looking for something to put in context both the joy and sorrow of human politics. Whether your candidate won or lost, it’s worth it to remember that as vital as these contests are, God’s presence with us is unchanging. Unfolding, yes, revelatory, yes, contextualized, yes, but still unchanging.
No matter who the mayor is, there are still hungry to be fed. No matter who the president is, there will still be peace to build. No matter who sits on city council, there will still be those for whom we must advocate. This fall, my husband’s church spent several weeks reading the beatitudes for their adult formation time. Noah and I walk together almost every morning, and our conversations would often turn to what each of us were thinking about for work. His refrain for the conversations at Grace Church during that time was always, “Not a tweak.” To dry the tears of the weeping? Not a tweak. To see how the poor are blessed? Not a tweak. To give your cloak as well as your shirt? Not a tweak. To be serious about making peace? Again. Not a tweak. You can’t just go on ahead with business as usual with a little extra sprinkling of discipleship on top. The invitation is for our faith in God to be woven throughout our lives, not an extra cherry to make things look nice.
If we are serious about being disciples of Jesus, our whole lives will require a turning toward the good news of God in Christ. It’s not about giving to the poor when you happen to have money in your pocket; it’s about making sure you don’t come up empty handed when it’s time. If you never have cash in your pocket, you can honestly and kindly say “No, I don’t have any change,” when someone asks. It’s a little like confronting a kid after Halloween who has chocolate streaked over their chin with the question of whether they have any candy. With open hands, the kid says, “No! Of course not! No candy here!” but only because he just stuffed it in his mouth.
Electoral politics are important, but will also only take you so far. As clear as it seems to me that Jesus would vote for “my” candidate, I am also aware of the caution offered by, I think, Anne Lamott: You know your faith is in trouble when you assume that God hates the same people you do.
So wherever you land this election week Thursday, here’s my prayer.
May your heart be enlarged by the compassion of Christ, your vision widened by a God who holds everyone precious in the divine sight, your mind set on fire by the Spirit’s relentless search for justice. Amen.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week our Old Testament reading is from Ruth—we leave Job, and move into several weeks of Old Testament texts about women. Naomi and Ruth this week, Hannah in the book of Samuel next week. Then before we know it, it’s Advent! In trying to come up with something that speaks to a week of elections, though, I find myself back with Job.
Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21).
Job comes to mind not because I feel particularly long-suffering about any of the results of the elections this week, but more because I was looking for something to put in context both the joy and sorrow of human politics. Whether your candidate won or lost, it’s worth it to remember that as vital as these contests are, God’s presence with us is unchanging. Unfolding, yes, revelatory, yes, contextualized, yes, but still unchanging.
No matter who the mayor is, there are still hungry to be fed. No matter who the president is, there will still be peace to build. No matter who sits on city council, there will still be those for whom we must advocate. This fall, my husband’s church spent several weeks reading the beatitudes for their adult formation time. Noah and I walk together almost every morning, and our conversations would often turn to what each of us were thinking about for work. His refrain for the conversations at Grace Church during that time was always, “Not a tweak.” To dry the tears of the weeping? Not a tweak. To see how the poor are blessed? Not a tweak. To give your cloak as well as your shirt? Not a tweak. To be serious about making peace? Again. Not a tweak. You can’t just go on ahead with business as usual with a little extra sprinkling of discipleship on top. The invitation is for our faith in God to be woven throughout our lives, not an extra cherry to make things look nice.
If we are serious about being disciples of Jesus, our whole lives will require a turning toward the good news of God in Christ. It’s not about giving to the poor when you happen to have money in your pocket; it’s about making sure you don’t come up empty handed when it’s time. If you never have cash in your pocket, you can honestly and kindly say “No, I don’t have any change,” when someone asks. It’s a little like confronting a kid after Halloween who has chocolate streaked over their chin with the question of whether they have any candy. With open hands, the kid says, “No! Of course not! No candy here!” but only because he just stuffed it in his mouth.
Electoral politics are important, but will also only take you so far. As clear as it seems to me that Jesus would vote for “my” candidate, I am also aware of the caution offered by, I think, Anne Lamott: You know your faith is in trouble when you assume that God hates the same people you do.
So wherever you land this election week Thursday, here’s my prayer.
May your heart be enlarged by the compassion of Christ, your vision widened by a God who holds everyone precious in the divine sight, your mind set on fire by the Spirit’s relentless search for justice. Amen.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Shifting Gears, Looking Ahead
Dear People of Christ Church,
I’m writing late this week as I get everything ready to leave for vacation. Clergy in the Episcopal Church are blessed with good long chunks of vacation—no three day weekends, but four weeks a year to take whenever I want is pretty great. Time for conferences, retreats, and education, like Wild Goose Festival where I traveled a few weeks ago, is separate. It’s great for me, but it’s also great for you—Revs Anne and Norm, who are each taking two weeks in my absence, are totally different preachers and thinkers than I, and after ten years of me rattling around in that stone building it’s important to get me out of my enclosure once in a while. My family and I will be backpacking and camping the National Parks of Utah and Arizona, so if any pastoral emergencies come up the very faithful and capable clergy of Redeemer Lexington, Revs Kate and Andrew, will be on call. I’ve got one more Sunday, though, until I’m away, so I’m looking forward to being with you this week. The Gospel is a blockbuster—in John’s version of the Feeding of the 5,000, Jesus walks on water right afterwards. One miracle isn’t enough.
Meanwhile, vestry and I have been having some great conversations about what we’d like to work on for 2015-16. I’ve been working on my own goals as well—I’d like to focus more on structuring my work time for better preaching preparation, and I want to try having regular open office hours at Café on the Common. As I get drawn up into ideas for activities and programs, though, I keep pulling back and remembering what the actual mission here is—the mission is not the program or the attendance at whatever Tuesday event is happening. The mission is the reconciliation of all people with God. If Tuesday night programs help out with that, terrific, but if they’re not, then we should do something else.
So then the question is:
What do you want to do next year?
From the beach or the mountains or Moody Street, wherever you find yourself this summer, take a few minutes to imagine with each other over time and space. I’ve created this google doc to be a big whiteboard—anybody can write on it (no google ID necessary). Throw out all your ideas, sign your name or not, just use your imagination. In the Gospel passage we read last Sunday, Jesus taught the people who gathered “many things.” What does he want to teach us now? What does he want us to teach each other?
Blessings!
Sara+
I’m writing late this week as I get everything ready to leave for vacation. Clergy in the Episcopal Church are blessed with good long chunks of vacation—no three day weekends, but four weeks a year to take whenever I want is pretty great. Time for conferences, retreats, and education, like Wild Goose Festival where I traveled a few weeks ago, is separate. It’s great for me, but it’s also great for you—Revs Anne and Norm, who are each taking two weeks in my absence, are totally different preachers and thinkers than I, and after ten years of me rattling around in that stone building it’s important to get me out of my enclosure once in a while. My family and I will be backpacking and camping the National Parks of Utah and Arizona, so if any pastoral emergencies come up the very faithful and capable clergy of Redeemer Lexington, Revs Kate and Andrew, will be on call. I’ve got one more Sunday, though, until I’m away, so I’m looking forward to being with you this week. The Gospel is a blockbuster—in John’s version of the Feeding of the 5,000, Jesus walks on water right afterwards. One miracle isn’t enough.
Meanwhile, vestry and I have been having some great conversations about what we’d like to work on for 2015-16. I’ve been working on my own goals as well—I’d like to focus more on structuring my work time for better preaching preparation, and I want to try having regular open office hours at Café on the Common. As I get drawn up into ideas for activities and programs, though, I keep pulling back and remembering what the actual mission here is—the mission is not the program or the attendance at whatever Tuesday event is happening. The mission is the reconciliation of all people with God. If Tuesday night programs help out with that, terrific, but if they’re not, then we should do something else.
So then the question is:
What do you want to do next year?
From the beach or the mountains or Moody Street, wherever you find yourself this summer, take a few minutes to imagine with each other over time and space. I’ve created this google doc to be a big whiteboard—anybody can write on it (no google ID necessary). Throw out all your ideas, sign your name or not, just use your imagination. In the Gospel passage we read last Sunday, Jesus taught the people who gathered “many things.” What does he want to teach us now? What does he want us to teach each other?
Blessings!
Sara+
Friday, July 10, 2015
Receiving Grace
Dear People of Christ Church,
As you read this I’ll be almost finished with my 900 mile drive south to Hot Springs, North Carolina, home of the Wild Goose Festival, a Thursday through Sunday extravaganza of God, peace, art, music, and muddy Christians. Hot Springs is in an area in Western North Carolina that is basically a rain forest, and with mostly tent campers, you get very comfortable with dirt. 2 years ago my family had a bit of an extra adventure when our elderly camping trailer and our not-quite-up-to-the-task Subaru were no match for the mountains. Four of us in the front of a tow truck driving 45 minutes into the mountains to retrieve our camper was an exploit we hope not to repeat, so this year we are staying in a much more portable tent.
The first time we were at Wild Goose we heard civil rights veteran Vincent Harding speak—all the more powerful now, since he died in 2014. I remember hearing him talk about the United States as an “emerging” democracy—we just aren’t all there yet, as a nation, but God is leading us on. Observing July 4 this past week in the wake of the Supreme Court’s equal marriage decision felt like our country emerged a little further, though there is still a distance to go. Fundamentally, though, our faith is about joy, not sorrow. The Gospel calls us to mourn and weep (I’ve forgotten how many of the psalms are laments, but it’s a lot), but also tell us joy comes in the morning and that we are already reconciled to God. Already.
The most incredible gift, the one that’s somewhat peculiarly difficult to receive, is the grace of Jesus—the already-forgiven places we are invited to live in. Over the last few weeks I’ve sung Amazing Grace more times than usual, mostly as a go-to hymn a lot of people just know. We sang it at the service for Charleston, we sang it because the hymn number was printed incorrectly in church two Sundays ago, and we sang it this past week at Church in the Garden when we were competing with ambulances and traffic. My favorite verse is the last one:
When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun.
I love this image beyond time and space, as though we could begin singing and giving thanks for God now, but there’s no way we’ll ever finish. Even after ten thousand years, still the grace of God will catch us in joy, nudging us like a four year old who just needs their back scratched a little longer at bedtime. Just a little longer. Ten thousand years isn’t enough.
Where is grace finding you these summer days?
Blessings,
Sara+
PS: please come to church this Sunday as we continue summer worship at 9:30—the incomparable Rev. Anne Minton joins us!…
Stop by and say hi between 10-12 this Saturday, too, for Waltham History Day at Christ Church!
As you read this I’ll be almost finished with my 900 mile drive south to Hot Springs, North Carolina, home of the Wild Goose Festival, a Thursday through Sunday extravaganza of God, peace, art, music, and muddy Christians. Hot Springs is in an area in Western North Carolina that is basically a rain forest, and with mostly tent campers, you get very comfortable with dirt. 2 years ago my family had a bit of an extra adventure when our elderly camping trailer and our not-quite-up-to-the-task Subaru were no match for the mountains. Four of us in the front of a tow truck driving 45 minutes into the mountains to retrieve our camper was an exploit we hope not to repeat, so this year we are staying in a much more portable tent.
The first time we were at Wild Goose we heard civil rights veteran Vincent Harding speak—all the more powerful now, since he died in 2014. I remember hearing him talk about the United States as an “emerging” democracy—we just aren’t all there yet, as a nation, but God is leading us on. Observing July 4 this past week in the wake of the Supreme Court’s equal marriage decision felt like our country emerged a little further, though there is still a distance to go. Fundamentally, though, our faith is about joy, not sorrow. The Gospel calls us to mourn and weep (I’ve forgotten how many of the psalms are laments, but it’s a lot), but also tell us joy comes in the morning and that we are already reconciled to God. Already.
The most incredible gift, the one that’s somewhat peculiarly difficult to receive, is the grace of Jesus—the already-forgiven places we are invited to live in. Over the last few weeks I’ve sung Amazing Grace more times than usual, mostly as a go-to hymn a lot of people just know. We sang it at the service for Charleston, we sang it because the hymn number was printed incorrectly in church two Sundays ago, and we sang it this past week at Church in the Garden when we were competing with ambulances and traffic. My favorite verse is the last one:
When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun.
I love this image beyond time and space, as though we could begin singing and giving thanks for God now, but there’s no way we’ll ever finish. Even after ten thousand years, still the grace of God will catch us in joy, nudging us like a four year old who just needs their back scratched a little longer at bedtime. Just a little longer. Ten thousand years isn’t enough.
Where is grace finding you these summer days?
Blessings,
Sara+
PS: please come to church this Sunday as we continue summer worship at 9:30—the incomparable Rev. Anne Minton joins us!…
Stop by and say hi between 10-12 this Saturday, too, for Waltham History Day at Christ Church!
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Being the Church
Dear People of Christ Church,
Thanks to all who came out for the annual meeting!
In addition to the oh-so-exciting “prayer for a church meeting,” we offered prayers for those who died in 2014 and celebrated new members who signed our volume of the 1898 bylaws (You can get a more recent copy—just let me know). If you missed out and would still like to sign, please let me know and there will be a part two. As we have for the last number of years, we also gave appreciation pins to those whose service we were particularly grateful over the year—Jerome Fung, for sharing his musical gifts with us, Jessica Mailman, responsible for the overhaul of our website, Andrea Shirley, who concluded her term as vestry member and served (and continues to serve) as deanery representative, and Chris Jensen, who concluded his time as parish treasurer. Thank you, thank you, thank you Jerome, Jessica, Andrea, and Chris! We also welcomed on new leadership to vestry—Chris Leonardo and Anna Jones are each joining for regular terms of service, and Mike Hughes is coming on as treasurer. This parish is so blessed to have these thoughtful, faithful, creative leaders!
The bulk of the meeting centered in having conversations about the four themes that came out of informational interviews conducted by the vestry to discern where our energy is most needed at church: the building, the community, outreach, and ministries with children. In preparation, we gathered annual reports from all the different ministries we’ve engaged in over the year. At the meeting itself, our emphasis was more on preparing for 2015 than looking back at 2014, but please do read the report (here is the correct link!). Please also, if you were at the meeting, offer feedback to me and the vestry about your experience. Having so much emphasis on the new year was new for 2014, and we want to have a balance between looking forward and looking back.
Speaking of feedback, in the new year we continue to discern how best to pray our intercession list. This Sunday in response to parishioner input we’re including a short explanation of those for whom we pray in the bulletin, and we continue hearing the names from the congregation. So far input has been very positive, so please let us know how you experience it with our survey, either online or in church on Sunday (in the bulletin). Another survey is about our plans for Christian formation. What do you want to learn? What format works best for you? Do you want more focus on the Bible? More on getting to know each other? Would you be part of making it happen? Please let us know here.
Why all the information gathering? The BCP catechism says “The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.” That is the mission of the church. And if what we’re doing isn’t directed toward God, then we’re not living up to what God desires for us. Listening to each other is part of that work. At the same time, it’s also not just about accommodating the personal preferences of 100 different individuals; we are also called to hope for the best of the whole, not just own wants.
As I said in my sermon last Sunday, the church is the church as it is—we are the church. You are the church. It matters if you’re here on Sunday and it matters what you think. And I continue to be blessed to serve you and God in this place!
Blessings,
Sara+
Thanks to all who came out for the annual meeting!
In addition to the oh-so-exciting “prayer for a church meeting,” we offered prayers for those who died in 2014 and celebrated new members who signed our volume of the 1898 bylaws (You can get a more recent copy—just let me know). If you missed out and would still like to sign, please let me know and there will be a part two. As we have for the last number of years, we also gave appreciation pins to those whose service we were particularly grateful over the year—Jerome Fung, for sharing his musical gifts with us, Jessica Mailman, responsible for the overhaul of our website, Andrea Shirley, who concluded her term as vestry member and served (and continues to serve) as deanery representative, and Chris Jensen, who concluded his time as parish treasurer. Thank you, thank you, thank you Jerome, Jessica, Andrea, and Chris! We also welcomed on new leadership to vestry—Chris Leonardo and Anna Jones are each joining for regular terms of service, and Mike Hughes is coming on as treasurer. This parish is so blessed to have these thoughtful, faithful, creative leaders!
The bulk of the meeting centered in having conversations about the four themes that came out of informational interviews conducted by the vestry to discern where our energy is most needed at church: the building, the community, outreach, and ministries with children. In preparation, we gathered annual reports from all the different ministries we’ve engaged in over the year. At the meeting itself, our emphasis was more on preparing for 2015 than looking back at 2014, but please do read the report (here is the correct link!). Please also, if you were at the meeting, offer feedback to me and the vestry about your experience. Having so much emphasis on the new year was new for 2014, and we want to have a balance between looking forward and looking back.
Speaking of feedback, in the new year we continue to discern how best to pray our intercession list. This Sunday in response to parishioner input we’re including a short explanation of those for whom we pray in the bulletin, and we continue hearing the names from the congregation. So far input has been very positive, so please let us know how you experience it with our survey, either online or in church on Sunday (in the bulletin). Another survey is about our plans for Christian formation. What do you want to learn? What format works best for you? Do you want more focus on the Bible? More on getting to know each other? Would you be part of making it happen? Please let us know here.
Why all the information gathering? The BCP catechism says “The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.” That is the mission of the church. And if what we’re doing isn’t directed toward God, then we’re not living up to what God desires for us. Listening to each other is part of that work. At the same time, it’s also not just about accommodating the personal preferences of 100 different individuals; we are also called to hope for the best of the whole, not just own wants.
As I said in my sermon last Sunday, the church is the church as it is—we are the church. You are the church. It matters if you’re here on Sunday and it matters what you think. And I continue to be blessed to serve you and God in this place!
Blessings,
Sara+
Friday, January 23, 2015
Annual Meeting Sunday
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week I’m passing along my annual report—please come to the annual meeting on Sunday! We look forward to voting in some excellent leaders (Chris Leonardo and Anna Jones to vestry, Mike Hughes to treasurer) and will hopefully have some fruitful conversation about our calling to ministry in the new year. This will be the first order of business, so even if you can’t stay for the whole meeting, please come for the conversation. Plans for a children’s activity are underway. Also remember it’s one service, at 9:30! Please also join me in offering prayers of gratitude for the service of Louise Wilkes, Andrea Shirley, and Chris Jensen, whose elected terms come to a close but whose ministries certainly continue.
…
Sitting down to write this report for you for the tenth time (the anniversary of our ten years of work together will be September 15), I’m always so grateful for all the ways in which you are so generous with each other and with this parish. Writing this year I am thrilled and excited that we have met our astonishingly ambitious 2015 pledge goal. St Francis of Assisi talked about being a fool for Christ. If any of us in 2012 had said we’d increase our stewardship giving by more than thirty percent in the space of two years, they would have been told in no uncertain terms they were just a fool. But here we are, and wow.
There were a lot of “wow” moments this year. Of course, the narthex, which literally brought tears to my eyes. We had the biggest ever participation in our Lenten small group educational series on the The Restoration Project. We listened to the movement of God in each others’ lives in those conversations, and came nearer to each other as well.
The vestry had its first ever “retreat retreat” for our annual time together, spending the day at Bethany House of Prayer, allowing us to reflect on how the Spirit had been weaving Her way through our conversations. A pivotal time I think for all of us on vestry was our conversations about the possibility of hiring a part time director of religious education. Though the search overall wasn’t successful, it was a grace-filled time of listening to each other, both in the vestry and in the team that did interviews and imagined together what the person might bring. I’m hopeful that the time might be right in 2015. Our Spring Arts Night was so much fun, and a great way to see God’s gifts in the lives of the performers. Kira Cohn’s pogo stick rendition of Happy was definitely a highlight of the year.
I’m grateful that our building has continued to offer home to so many different ministries and (ad)ventures. January of 2014 did begin on a sad note for our friends at St Peter’s, who experienced a split in their congregation, leading to half or so forming a new community in Belmont. I am grateful to the Diocese of Massachusetts for providing grant funds to enable St Peter’s to continue to meet the bulk of their financial responsibility to Christ Church. I was also glad that many members of St Peter’s joined us when we welcomed Bishop Shaw on his last visitation to the parish in March, and that many continue to join us for our Holy week Services.
I am so grateful for Victoria Sundgren and Sasha Killewald, wardens extraordinaire who keep me focused and attentive to so much. Our lay led compline series has been a great example of the vocation of the whole church to prayer, and the musical gifts of Jerome Fung are a constantly unfolding gift to the church. I’m also thrilled to have Christine Dutt working with our expanded older kids offerings and partnership with Good Shepherd Watertown and Erin Jensen continuing to lead our younger kids’ programs (as well as being a parent leader in the older kids’ organizing!). We would not have had a fraction of the growth we have seen over the last number of years without her steadiness and spirit. Meanwhile, I continue to be so thankful for the continual and kind presence of those who have kept things going all along, Sally and Cathy and all of the longtime members who “remember when.”
In 2015 I also began some new projects in my work as a priest in the wider world. I’ve now spent a whole year on the Commission on Ministry, the diocesan group tasked with working with those who are applying for and preparing for ordination. I’ve written pieces for the Waltham News Tribune on a more regular basis for holidays. I continue to serve on the Parmenter Housing board, which runs two affordable housing complexes for older women, and help here and there for the diocesan Life Together intern program.
I was sad to say goodbye to David Collins, but grateful for all the new things Cheryl is teaching us. And to say that I’m pleased to have Jaime Bonney in the office doesn’t come close to articulating how much I appreciate her! And, of course, I couldn’t close the report by mentioning my sadness at losing Jim Hewitt and Tom Shaw this year. In very different ways these two men shaped my priesthood and leadership, and I know that they dwell in light eternal with all the saints.
This week I’m passing along my annual report—please come to the annual meeting on Sunday! We look forward to voting in some excellent leaders (Chris Leonardo and Anna Jones to vestry, Mike Hughes to treasurer) and will hopefully have some fruitful conversation about our calling to ministry in the new year. This will be the first order of business, so even if you can’t stay for the whole meeting, please come for the conversation. Plans for a children’s activity are underway. Also remember it’s one service, at 9:30! Please also join me in offering prayers of gratitude for the service of Louise Wilkes, Andrea Shirley, and Chris Jensen, whose elected terms come to a close but whose ministries certainly continue.
…
Sitting down to write this report for you for the tenth time (the anniversary of our ten years of work together will be September 15), I’m always so grateful for all the ways in which you are so generous with each other and with this parish. Writing this year I am thrilled and excited that we have met our astonishingly ambitious 2015 pledge goal. St Francis of Assisi talked about being a fool for Christ. If any of us in 2012 had said we’d increase our stewardship giving by more than thirty percent in the space of two years, they would have been told in no uncertain terms they were just a fool. But here we are, and wow.
There were a lot of “wow” moments this year. Of course, the narthex, which literally brought tears to my eyes. We had the biggest ever participation in our Lenten small group educational series on the The Restoration Project. We listened to the movement of God in each others’ lives in those conversations, and came nearer to each other as well.
The vestry had its first ever “retreat retreat” for our annual time together, spending the day at Bethany House of Prayer, allowing us to reflect on how the Spirit had been weaving Her way through our conversations. A pivotal time I think for all of us on vestry was our conversations about the possibility of hiring a part time director of religious education. Though the search overall wasn’t successful, it was a grace-filled time of listening to each other, both in the vestry and in the team that did interviews and imagined together what the person might bring. I’m hopeful that the time might be right in 2015. Our Spring Arts Night was so much fun, and a great way to see God’s gifts in the lives of the performers. Kira Cohn’s pogo stick rendition of Happy was definitely a highlight of the year.
I’m grateful that our building has continued to offer home to so many different ministries and (ad)ventures. January of 2014 did begin on a sad note for our friends at St Peter’s, who experienced a split in their congregation, leading to half or so forming a new community in Belmont. I am grateful to the Diocese of Massachusetts for providing grant funds to enable St Peter’s to continue to meet the bulk of their financial responsibility to Christ Church. I was also glad that many members of St Peter’s joined us when we welcomed Bishop Shaw on his last visitation to the parish in March, and that many continue to join us for our Holy week Services.
I am so grateful for Victoria Sundgren and Sasha Killewald, wardens extraordinaire who keep me focused and attentive to so much. Our lay led compline series has been a great example of the vocation of the whole church to prayer, and the musical gifts of Jerome Fung are a constantly unfolding gift to the church. I’m also thrilled to have Christine Dutt working with our expanded older kids offerings and partnership with Good Shepherd Watertown and Erin Jensen continuing to lead our younger kids’ programs (as well as being a parent leader in the older kids’ organizing!). We would not have had a fraction of the growth we have seen over the last number of years without her steadiness and spirit. Meanwhile, I continue to be so thankful for the continual and kind presence of those who have kept things going all along, Sally and Cathy and all of the longtime members who “remember when.”
In 2015 I also began some new projects in my work as a priest in the wider world. I’ve now spent a whole year on the Commission on Ministry, the diocesan group tasked with working with those who are applying for and preparing for ordination. I’ve written pieces for the Waltham News Tribune on a more regular basis for holidays. I continue to serve on the Parmenter Housing board, which runs two affordable housing complexes for older women, and help here and there for the diocesan Life Together intern program.
I was sad to say goodbye to David Collins, but grateful for all the new things Cheryl is teaching us. And to say that I’m pleased to have Jaime Bonney in the office doesn’t come close to articulating how much I appreciate her! And, of course, I couldn’t close the report by mentioning my sadness at losing Jim Hewitt and Tom Shaw this year. In very different ways these two men shaped my priesthood and leadership, and I know that they dwell in light eternal with all the saints.
Friday, November 21, 2014
To Be the Body of Christ
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, it was a pleasure to distribute the thank you notes written on Sunday in response to Sarah Staley’s stewardship talk, which you can see here. Many of the notes were general in nature—thanks to all who make the church “go”—from altar guild to readers to building maintenance to children’s education—so even if you didn't receive a personal one in the mail, please know that it matters that you are here.
It matters—and not just because of what you do, but because being the church is a less and less common endeavor. The results of a nationwide study of Episcopal Congregations were published this month, and the news for our denomination is not great. The median Episcopal parish had 77 people in church in 2003, which then dropped to 66 in 2009, and dropped to 61 by 2013. People just don't go to church as much anymore.
Over the last ten years, the average Sunday attendance of Episcopal Churches has declined twenty-four percent. We can point to all kinds of things outside ourselves to explain why this is the case. Sports are taking over every family’s life, not just those who want to go to church. All households are impacted by the change in work expectations, where we’re all attached to our digital tethers 24 hours a day. And that’s those of us fortunate enough to be employed and to have time “off” in the first place. There’s no end to work or homework, or anxiety. To claim, then, that one ought to make it a priority to sit in a 115 year old building for an hour every Sunday—every Sunday?!?—when the rest of our lives are so chaotic sounds pretty crazy. Isn't it more compassionate just to stay home and take a nap? Can’t you pray from the couch? Is God worth praying to if God can’t find you there?
In some ways, this is the “time” version of the piece I wrote last week about how important it is to give our money to the church. Spending time and money are both ways to signal our commitment. I said last week I give money to church because church helps make me who I am. I’m fed, supported, loved by God. That’s true for time, too, but when it comes to actually showing up for church, the reverse is also true; me going to church makes the church who it is.
The church needs everyone not just to fill seats, but to be faithful to the vision God has for us, a substantial part of which is being together, bodily. One thing I was struck by in the thank-you’s was that several people thanked each other for being an inspiration to them—you are teaching each other to be faithful. When each of you show up, it makes it easier for the others to do that. For you to hear each other’s voices, to smile at each other’s kids, to laugh when the sound system malfunctions. To celebrate at baptisms and marriages, and to mourn for the dead. There are plenty of things that your church community needs you to do, but the most important thing is just for you to be. Church is on a human scale. We can enrich our community with all the blogs and facebook posts in the world, but we still need to be in the same room together.
Christ Church has been growing steadily over the last ten years—there was a big jump between 2006 and 2008 of 15%, and then from 2008 to 2013 another 11% of growth. That’s pretty fantastic…only 25% of other congregations have had similar growth. But for it to keep going, you need to keep going. You are smart, dedicated, loving and faithful. You come from all different backgrounds and live in all different kinds of households. You are the Body of Christ. Thank you.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, it was a pleasure to distribute the thank you notes written on Sunday in response to Sarah Staley’s stewardship talk, which you can see here. Many of the notes were general in nature—thanks to all who make the church “go”—from altar guild to readers to building maintenance to children’s education—so even if you didn't receive a personal one in the mail, please know that it matters that you are here.
It matters—and not just because of what you do, but because being the church is a less and less common endeavor. The results of a nationwide study of Episcopal Congregations were published this month, and the news for our denomination is not great. The median Episcopal parish had 77 people in church in 2003, which then dropped to 66 in 2009, and dropped to 61 by 2013. People just don't go to church as much anymore.
Over the last ten years, the average Sunday attendance of Episcopal Churches has declined twenty-four percent. We can point to all kinds of things outside ourselves to explain why this is the case. Sports are taking over every family’s life, not just those who want to go to church. All households are impacted by the change in work expectations, where we’re all attached to our digital tethers 24 hours a day. And that’s those of us fortunate enough to be employed and to have time “off” in the first place. There’s no end to work or homework, or anxiety. To claim, then, that one ought to make it a priority to sit in a 115 year old building for an hour every Sunday—every Sunday?!?—when the rest of our lives are so chaotic sounds pretty crazy. Isn't it more compassionate just to stay home and take a nap? Can’t you pray from the couch? Is God worth praying to if God can’t find you there?
In some ways, this is the “time” version of the piece I wrote last week about how important it is to give our money to the church. Spending time and money are both ways to signal our commitment. I said last week I give money to church because church helps make me who I am. I’m fed, supported, loved by God. That’s true for time, too, but when it comes to actually showing up for church, the reverse is also true; me going to church makes the church who it is.
The church needs everyone not just to fill seats, but to be faithful to the vision God has for us, a substantial part of which is being together, bodily. One thing I was struck by in the thank-you’s was that several people thanked each other for being an inspiration to them—you are teaching each other to be faithful. When each of you show up, it makes it easier for the others to do that. For you to hear each other’s voices, to smile at each other’s kids, to laugh when the sound system malfunctions. To celebrate at baptisms and marriages, and to mourn for the dead. There are plenty of things that your church community needs you to do, but the most important thing is just for you to be. Church is on a human scale. We can enrich our community with all the blogs and facebook posts in the world, but we still need to be in the same room together.
Christ Church has been growing steadily over the last ten years—there was a big jump between 2006 and 2008 of 15%, and then from 2008 to 2013 another 11% of growth. That’s pretty fantastic…only 25% of other congregations have had similar growth. But for it to keep going, you need to keep going. You are smart, dedicated, loving and faithful. You come from all different backgrounds and live in all different kinds of households. You are the Body of Christ. Thank you.
Blessings,
Sara+
Friday, October 3, 2014
One of these things is not like the other one
Dear People of Christ Church,
In his letter to the Church in Rome, Paul tells the people, “weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice.” This week, in preparing for two very different liturgical events, I’m mindful of how broad our task is in being the church. On the one hand, we have a children’s sermon on Sunday and blessing of the animals. In church. All your dogs and birds and snakes and lizards are welcome to come to our 10am service. We did it for the first time last year as part of the liturgy, and it was great. For those pets who might not be ready for church, photographs and stuffed animals are welcome to join in their place. Our celebration this Sunday is in observance of the feast day of St Francis, October 4. He renounced a life of wealth and power in favor of a joyful simplicity, going into the wilds outside Assisi, so full of the Gospel that he preached to the birds. It will be quite a party!
At the same time, I’m preparing for our service the next day, for domestic violence awareness month. We have several speakers coming from REACH (www.reachma.org) to share personal and practical perspectives, and our own Anna Jones will be preaching. The service will be broadly ecumenical—your Roman Catholic as well as your non-faith practicing friends will be comfortable—so please come and invite everyone. Domestic violence has been much in the news lately with the NFL players’ conduct and the recent one year anniversary of the murder of Waltham resident Jennifer Martel, but those high profile cases only highlight the reality that many struggle with every day, no matter what’s going on in the media. 1 in 4 women have experienced domestic violence. 1 in 3 women who are murdered in the US are killed by their partner. Our culture is not doing well.
It’s strange to do something so serious so close to something that’s so, frankly, frivolous, with an arguably tenuous connection to the actual ministry of a decidedly un-frivolous saint. And maybe that’s an appropriate reticence, to acknowledge that one of these things is not like the other one. At the same time, I’m watching allegations and recriminations swirl at my seminary, General Theological Seminary, the Episcopal seminary in New York. General is the seminary that tries to be the most traditional and the most historic, while cautiously being open to the world and the inclusion of women and GLBT persons (which the other “traditional” Episcopal seminaries have not). Eight faculty members announced a strike, suspending teaching and saying they couldn't work with the dean and president. The board, in response, “accepted their resignations”—though they didn't exactly intend to resign—and so the accusations continue. No classes are in session, but lawyers on all sides are getting down to work.
General Seminary was not a particularly good fit for my desires for theological education; I didn't “enjoy” my time there, though I am grateful to have had three years to live in New York City. I have some fond feelings, as I was married in the chapel (the current dean was in my class, as it happens, and organized the potluck for the reception), so am not unaffected by the conflict. I don’t think it’s a simple labor issue of betraying striking workers, but I also think the dean has some reconciling to do. Collaboration wasn’t exactly part of our curriculum. Still, a la Romans, it’s possible to hold two different notions in our hearts and minds simultaneously. I can say that General was not a good fit for me, but I still hope for its future. I can say that Kurt, my friend and the dean, made some bad decisions, but ultimately was trying to adapt to a changing world—and General Seminary, in my option, has a lot of adapting to do so I’m cautiously on board with that. Maybe ironically, he did too much work trying to adapt the seminary to a changing world and not enough work adapting himself (a full media rundown can be had at www.episcopalcafe.com).
In the meantime, as always, we pray for a lot of things. We pray for those experiencing and healing from domestic violence. We pray to have the grace and power to support them, pray that we can be part of creating a world where violence is never overlooked. We pray in thanksgiving for God’s creation and for all the furry and scaly friends that call us home. And I pray for General, too, especially for the students who need to get back to work.
Blessings,
Sara+
In his letter to the Church in Rome, Paul tells the people, “weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice.” This week, in preparing for two very different liturgical events, I’m mindful of how broad our task is in being the church. On the one hand, we have a children’s sermon on Sunday and blessing of the animals. In church. All your dogs and birds and snakes and lizards are welcome to come to our 10am service. We did it for the first time last year as part of the liturgy, and it was great. For those pets who might not be ready for church, photographs and stuffed animals are welcome to join in their place. Our celebration this Sunday is in observance of the feast day of St Francis, October 4. He renounced a life of wealth and power in favor of a joyful simplicity, going into the wilds outside Assisi, so full of the Gospel that he preached to the birds. It will be quite a party!
At the same time, I’m preparing for our service the next day, for domestic violence awareness month. We have several speakers coming from REACH (www.reachma.org) to share personal and practical perspectives, and our own Anna Jones will be preaching. The service will be broadly ecumenical—your Roman Catholic as well as your non-faith practicing friends will be comfortable—so please come and invite everyone. Domestic violence has been much in the news lately with the NFL players’ conduct and the recent one year anniversary of the murder of Waltham resident Jennifer Martel, but those high profile cases only highlight the reality that many struggle with every day, no matter what’s going on in the media. 1 in 4 women have experienced domestic violence. 1 in 3 women who are murdered in the US are killed by their partner. Our culture is not doing well.
It’s strange to do something so serious so close to something that’s so, frankly, frivolous, with an arguably tenuous connection to the actual ministry of a decidedly un-frivolous saint. And maybe that’s an appropriate reticence, to acknowledge that one of these things is not like the other one. At the same time, I’m watching allegations and recriminations swirl at my seminary, General Theological Seminary, the Episcopal seminary in New York. General is the seminary that tries to be the most traditional and the most historic, while cautiously being open to the world and the inclusion of women and GLBT persons (which the other “traditional” Episcopal seminaries have not). Eight faculty members announced a strike, suspending teaching and saying they couldn't work with the dean and president. The board, in response, “accepted their resignations”—though they didn't exactly intend to resign—and so the accusations continue. No classes are in session, but lawyers on all sides are getting down to work.
General Seminary was not a particularly good fit for my desires for theological education; I didn't “enjoy” my time there, though I am grateful to have had three years to live in New York City. I have some fond feelings, as I was married in the chapel (the current dean was in my class, as it happens, and organized the potluck for the reception), so am not unaffected by the conflict. I don’t think it’s a simple labor issue of betraying striking workers, but I also think the dean has some reconciling to do. Collaboration wasn’t exactly part of our curriculum. Still, a la Romans, it’s possible to hold two different notions in our hearts and minds simultaneously. I can say that General was not a good fit for me, but I still hope for its future. I can say that Kurt, my friend and the dean, made some bad decisions, but ultimately was trying to adapt to a changing world—and General Seminary, in my option, has a lot of adapting to do so I’m cautiously on board with that. Maybe ironically, he did too much work trying to adapt the seminary to a changing world and not enough work adapting himself (a full media rundown can be had at www.episcopalcafe.com).
In the meantime, as always, we pray for a lot of things. We pray for those experiencing and healing from domestic violence. We pray to have the grace and power to support them, pray that we can be part of creating a world where violence is never overlooked. We pray in thanksgiving for God’s creation and for all the furry and scaly friends that call us home. And I pray for General, too, especially for the students who need to get back to work.
Blessings,
Sara+
Friday, September 5, 2014
Chasing Newness
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, we’re back to our regular schedule at 8:30 and 10. It’s been nice to have a more relaxed pace on Sunday mornings with just one service, but I miss our 8:30—it’s quiet and contemplative and I pray so well with that shape of liturgy! We’ll bless backpacks and laptops and lunch boxes and whatever else you bring—prayers for new beginnings and new endeavors.
A lot is new, but a lot is the same. Still, there is a spiritual quality to newness. Paul writes to the Church in Corinth that whoever is in Christ is a new creation. In the book of Revelation, the fantastical vision is of a new heaven and a new earth. In Ezekiel, God promises a new heart and a new spirit. Why do we need all this newness? Aren’t things fine the way they are?
Yes, yes, and no.
Putting my son on the school bus to 2nd grade this week, I was vividly aware of how much everything changes, and fast. Next fall his sister will be on that bus with him—to kindergarten—how I became the parent of school aged children already is anyone’s guess. I have a front row seat to everything new in their lives, but there’s plenty new in my life, too, and yours, I’ll bet—new presences as well as new absences. Not all the new is shiny and compelling; sometimes it’s raw and tender. When someone we love dies, we change, too. There’s newness of tragedy, too, when we thought the world was safe and it turned out not to be. The stray bullet out of nowhere and the tumor that doesn’t shrink both bring their share of newness, a kind we’d never wish on anyone, nevermind seek for ourselves.
I wonder, too, about the newness in ourselves that we don’t notice. Our brains are primed to crave novelty—we want new stuff to buy, new stuff to look at—the pleasure-centers in our brains light up and crave that kind of transient newness again and again. We can be insatiable. But it takes more sustained attention to seek the spiritual newness that, I think, is more like what the apostle Paul and the prophet Ezekiel are talking about. What’s the newness that comes when you let go of a fear? What’s the newness that comes when you make a commitment, the newness that comes out of faithfulness over time or learning something about yourself you’d never seen? What fears have you released over the years? What anxiety over status or appearance or the judgment of others have you let go?
What is the new, really new, that you’re looking for? Something more solid than novelty, but a good and life-giving change? Let me know what you’re thinking about, and let’s talk about how we can support each other in those ventures. I’m still planning for October Tuesday education, so give me your ideas.
But still bring your STUFF that brings newness on Sunday… your new diaper bag or lunch box (daughter Adah has one with a transformer on the front with flashing lights for eyes). The gear might not change your life, but it’s still fun.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, we’re back to our regular schedule at 8:30 and 10. It’s been nice to have a more relaxed pace on Sunday mornings with just one service, but I miss our 8:30—it’s quiet and contemplative and I pray so well with that shape of liturgy! We’ll bless backpacks and laptops and lunch boxes and whatever else you bring—prayers for new beginnings and new endeavors.
A lot is new, but a lot is the same. Still, there is a spiritual quality to newness. Paul writes to the Church in Corinth that whoever is in Christ is a new creation. In the book of Revelation, the fantastical vision is of a new heaven and a new earth. In Ezekiel, God promises a new heart and a new spirit. Why do we need all this newness? Aren’t things fine the way they are?
Yes, yes, and no.
Putting my son on the school bus to 2nd grade this week, I was vividly aware of how much everything changes, and fast. Next fall his sister will be on that bus with him—to kindergarten—how I became the parent of school aged children already is anyone’s guess. I have a front row seat to everything new in their lives, but there’s plenty new in my life, too, and yours, I’ll bet—new presences as well as new absences. Not all the new is shiny and compelling; sometimes it’s raw and tender. When someone we love dies, we change, too. There’s newness of tragedy, too, when we thought the world was safe and it turned out not to be. The stray bullet out of nowhere and the tumor that doesn’t shrink both bring their share of newness, a kind we’d never wish on anyone, nevermind seek for ourselves.
I wonder, too, about the newness in ourselves that we don’t notice. Our brains are primed to crave novelty—we want new stuff to buy, new stuff to look at—the pleasure-centers in our brains light up and crave that kind of transient newness again and again. We can be insatiable. But it takes more sustained attention to seek the spiritual newness that, I think, is more like what the apostle Paul and the prophet Ezekiel are talking about. What’s the newness that comes when you let go of a fear? What’s the newness that comes when you make a commitment, the newness that comes out of faithfulness over time or learning something about yourself you’d never seen? What fears have you released over the years? What anxiety over status or appearance or the judgment of others have you let go?
What is the new, really new, that you’re looking for? Something more solid than novelty, but a good and life-giving change? Let me know what you’re thinking about, and let’s talk about how we can support each other in those ventures. I’m still planning for October Tuesday education, so give me your ideas.
But still bring your STUFF that brings newness on Sunday… your new diaper bag or lunch box (daughter Adah has one with a transformer on the front with flashing lights for eyes). The gear might not change your life, but it’s still fun.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Life and death questions
Dear People of Christ
Church
I hope to see a lot of you this week-tomorrow, the art show,
Saturday, the release of our own Gene Burkart's posthumous work of collected
essays (see below), and Sunday at the Mother's Day Walk. Our walking is part of
the diocesan-wide Season of Celebration and Service in honor of Bishop Shaw. It
has been such a gift for me to be formed as a priest in his witness for justice
and peace. Please join me in honoring Tom and in walking in the path of peace
with those whose loved ones have been killed, whose deaths are not mourned with
public grief and huge ceremony, whose killers are often not found.
In other topics of life and death, on May 18 we'll have a
conversation about end of life issues with our own Rob Atwood, who works as a
hospice social worker while not helping out with Sunday readings. On
Tuesday Christ Church hosted a day-long workshop for clergy and other
caregivers about "Caring for Each Other in Life and Death" (see the
tweets at #endlifecare) put on by the Massachusetts Council of Churches-it's a
conversation whose time has come.
Medical technology can do almost anything-life can be
extended longer than ever before, and that's a blessing. I don't
want to go back to a time before measles vaccines and chemotherapy. But our
dedication to technology has also obscured the way that death is also part of
life. Our bodies are gifts from God, wonderful gifts. In
caring for ourselves we give glory to God, in using our skills and
honoring our relationships and running and sleeping and loving. But we are also
invited into a certain humility about our bodies-they are a gift, but they are
also on loan.
As always, Anglican theology is pretty nuanced on the
question. In our Church's teaching about the end of life, we
differentiate between "passive" and "active" ways in which
death may be hastened. The passive withholding of treatment is an ethical
choice; if there is no prognosis for recovery, the question becomes whether the
patient's dying process is being prolonged, as opposed to whether their actual
life is being extended. When the ballot question on (depending on your
position) physician assisted suicide/death with dignity came across, there were
Episcopalians of good faith on both sides of the issue. I do think
we need to be cautious about our judgments about what life is "meaningful"-one
of the reasons I voted against the 2012 ballot initiative was that I worried
about legitimating the notion that some lives are not worth
living. From a disability rights perspective, that's
just not a precedent I want to be part of, even as I would be in favor of some
of the outcomes of the adoption of such a law.
And there are a lot of legal issues-I learned this week that
your next of kin may be the person the hospital calls first, but if there is a
conflict with other family members about your care, only an authorized health
care proxy has the right to make the final call. So please
join us on the 17th-we'll talk about some of the medical decisions
that are made at the end of life, about Massachusetts
law concerning decision making authorization, and also (and this part is kind
of fun) planning your own funeral. There's only one way to be sure that one
hymn that you hate doesn't get played... If you can't make it check
out the booklet we put together last year here
or make an appointment to see me!
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, March 27, 2014
Who is my neighbor
Dear People of Christ Church,
A week later, I'm still mentally reeling a little in the wake of the murder of Waltham High student Tyler Zanco last week. I didn't know him or his family, but something about the murder of a teenager-a child, really-feels like it demands our attention. My son Isaiah turns seven on Saturday-where will he be when he's 17?
In my sermon on Sunday I was thinking with you about the murder of Jorge Fuentes, a parishioner at St Stephen's in the South End, who came up through the ranks of the B-Ready afterschool program and the B-Safe summer camp program we volunteer with. It was in response to his death that our diocese kicked off the "B Peace" program to work against violence in Boston. Last year we participated in the Mother's Day Walk for Peace, which we'll join again this year. The Mother's Day Walk, too, was founded in memory of a child who died-Louis Brown, whose mother started the Peace Institute in his memory. Louis Brown Peace Institute has partnered with the Harvard School of Public Health in their Peace Zone Curriculum for middle and high school youth They hold the Walk as an annual fundraiser for their work in in peace education and support for survivors of violence. In our diocese, along with support of the walk, the other aspects of the B Peace program are summer jobs for youth and anti-gun work, which has particular resonance with the news coming out this week about one of the alleged perpetrators of last week's murder.
In this whole bundle of complication and grief, it's hard to know how to respond. Whatever the circumstances, wherever it happens, it's still tragic. Spiritually, it feels like it comes back to that question the lawyer asks Jesus when he's trying to test him-"Who is my neighbor?" We all know how that ends-we become neighbors when we are in community with each other, when we help, when we provide for each others' needs. Neighborliness isn't about being part of the same group-on an ordinary day, the traveler in the story and the Samaritan wouldn't have had anything to do with each other at all-they both would have wanted it that way! We aren't just neighbors because we are, literally, near ones. Tyler, Jorge, the families who come for diapers, or food, those who wait for the bus outside-these are all "near ones," but how can we actually become neighbors?
That's the invitation of the Gospel. I don't immediately know the answer to how we live into the call to be neighbors-it's always different. Events like the Mother's Day walk appeal to me as a way to act-like "Ashes to Go," for me they fall into the "make the right mistakes" column-it may not fix everything, but it is something. We still need to do more to support our teenagers and make our neighborhoods safe. We still need to do more to get outside of our four walls and share our faith. But we can do this.
Blessings,
Sara+
A week later, I'm still mentally reeling a little in the wake of the murder of Waltham High student Tyler Zanco last week. I didn't know him or his family, but something about the murder of a teenager-a child, really-feels like it demands our attention. My son Isaiah turns seven on Saturday-where will he be when he's 17?
In my sermon on Sunday I was thinking with you about the murder of Jorge Fuentes, a parishioner at St Stephen's in the South End, who came up through the ranks of the B-Ready afterschool program and the B-Safe summer camp program we volunteer with. It was in response to his death that our diocese kicked off the "B Peace" program to work against violence in Boston. Last year we participated in the Mother's Day Walk for Peace, which we'll join again this year. The Mother's Day Walk, too, was founded in memory of a child who died-Louis Brown, whose mother started the Peace Institute in his memory. Louis Brown Peace Institute has partnered with the Harvard School of Public Health in their Peace Zone Curriculum for middle and high school youth They hold the Walk as an annual fundraiser for their work in in peace education and support for survivors of violence. In our diocese, along with support of the walk, the other aspects of the B Peace program are summer jobs for youth and anti-gun work, which has particular resonance with the news coming out this week about one of the alleged perpetrators of last week's murder.
In this whole bundle of complication and grief, it's hard to know how to respond. Whatever the circumstances, wherever it happens, it's still tragic. Spiritually, it feels like it comes back to that question the lawyer asks Jesus when he's trying to test him-"Who is my neighbor?" We all know how that ends-we become neighbors when we are in community with each other, when we help, when we provide for each others' needs. Neighborliness isn't about being part of the same group-on an ordinary day, the traveler in the story and the Samaritan wouldn't have had anything to do with each other at all-they both would have wanted it that way! We aren't just neighbors because we are, literally, near ones. Tyler, Jorge, the families who come for diapers, or food, those who wait for the bus outside-these are all "near ones," but how can we actually become neighbors?
That's the invitation of the Gospel. I don't immediately know the answer to how we live into the call to be neighbors-it's always different. Events like the Mother's Day walk appeal to me as a way to act-like "Ashes to Go," for me they fall into the "make the right mistakes" column-it may not fix everything, but it is something. We still need to do more to support our teenagers and make our neighborhoods safe. We still need to do more to get outside of our four walls and share our faith. But we can do this.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Kicking off 2014
Dear People of Christ Church,
Thanks to everyone who stayed for our annual meeting last week; we had 45 in attendance, the best so far. Jerome, Jennifer, Sarah, James, Salom, Kristin, Courney, Joane, and Pam all signed our member book: welcome, Christ Churchers! We also had some very good conversation in small groups clustered around various points of our mission. From putting out the compost bin that's been languishing in the basement for a year to adding more variety in opportunities for education and community building, we are excited for what 2014 will bring.
One of the things I'm particularly passionate about for 2014 is looking to how we can build a stronger community at Christ Church, both for newcomers and for longtime members. As we grow closer to each other, we also grow closer to God. As we are more grounded in our love of God and God's love for us, we're more able to share with those in need and be generous with our lives. The Gospel really is good news; it's good news that we're loved beyond our imagining. It's good news we can always be forgiven and start again, good news that cruelty and violence don't win.
One of the themes that came up in the annual meeting was also the importance of having different opportunities for coming together; our usual education pattern during Advent and Lent of 6-7:30 or 8 might be best with people with little kids, but anything before 8pm might be too hard for others. The vestry began talking about how to connect people to each other and to the parish last year in the "action reflection" group model. We focused on what we were doing at church-both as a collective and as individuals-- and how we could do what we do better. Both in those conversations and at the annual meeting, it's occurred to me that we actually don't have a lot of time for parishioners to spend time "setting the course" for what we do as a parish. The vestry does a lot of that work, and I do a lot of that work, but we need to do more to make that accessible to everyone and get people talking.
A linked idea, which is successful in churches of all kinds, is the idea of small group ministry. A group of around ten people gathers together in a home or at church or a coffee shop, either for a defined number of meeting times or in an open ended model. There are lots of models-groups can focused on Bible study, or book groups, or prayer groups, or seniors' groups, or parents' groups, or intentionally intergenerational groups-and I hope that over the next few weeks before Lent we can be talking about if something like this might work for us. We've always had the ONE meeting time for education in Advent and Lent, but what if we opened it up wider? What if we had three different opportunities for Lent? What if we had five? Coffee hour is a great way to meet people, but it can also be an introvert's nightmare.
Moving into Lent (Ash Wednesday is in five weeks), I'm thinking of sort of a "Lenten lab" for experimentation; if we can try it for forty days, maybe we'll want to continue. Anna Jones is going to be heading up this effort on behalf of the vestry; she'll have some one on one conversations with people, and if you have ideas please be in touch with us both. I'm also intrigued by the Restoration Project model of small discipleship groups, so check that out as well. They have a great "Lenten Challenge" of 20-1-4 where participants are invited to commit to pray for 20 minutes a day, worship one hour a week, and serve for four hours a month (More at PrayWorshipServe). Whatever we do, please know how grateful I am for each of you and the spiritual life we share at Christ Church.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thanks to everyone who stayed for our annual meeting last week; we had 45 in attendance, the best so far. Jerome, Jennifer, Sarah, James, Salom, Kristin, Courney, Joane, and Pam all signed our member book: welcome, Christ Churchers! We also had some very good conversation in small groups clustered around various points of our mission. From putting out the compost bin that's been languishing in the basement for a year to adding more variety in opportunities for education and community building, we are excited for what 2014 will bring.
One of the things I'm particularly passionate about for 2014 is looking to how we can build a stronger community at Christ Church, both for newcomers and for longtime members. As we grow closer to each other, we also grow closer to God. As we are more grounded in our love of God and God's love for us, we're more able to share with those in need and be generous with our lives. The Gospel really is good news; it's good news that we're loved beyond our imagining. It's good news we can always be forgiven and start again, good news that cruelty and violence don't win.
One of the themes that came up in the annual meeting was also the importance of having different opportunities for coming together; our usual education pattern during Advent and Lent of 6-7:30 or 8 might be best with people with little kids, but anything before 8pm might be too hard for others. The vestry began talking about how to connect people to each other and to the parish last year in the "action reflection" group model. We focused on what we were doing at church-both as a collective and as individuals-- and how we could do what we do better. Both in those conversations and at the annual meeting, it's occurred to me that we actually don't have a lot of time for parishioners to spend time "setting the course" for what we do as a parish. The vestry does a lot of that work, and I do a lot of that work, but we need to do more to make that accessible to everyone and get people talking.
A linked idea, which is successful in churches of all kinds, is the idea of small group ministry. A group of around ten people gathers together in a home or at church or a coffee shop, either for a defined number of meeting times or in an open ended model. There are lots of models-groups can focused on Bible study, or book groups, or prayer groups, or seniors' groups, or parents' groups, or intentionally intergenerational groups-and I hope that over the next few weeks before Lent we can be talking about if something like this might work for us. We've always had the ONE meeting time for education in Advent and Lent, but what if we opened it up wider? What if we had three different opportunities for Lent? What if we had five? Coffee hour is a great way to meet people, but it can also be an introvert's nightmare.
Moving into Lent (Ash Wednesday is in five weeks), I'm thinking of sort of a "Lenten lab" for experimentation; if we can try it for forty days, maybe we'll want to continue. Anna Jones is going to be heading up this effort on behalf of the vestry; she'll have some one on one conversations with people, and if you have ideas please be in touch with us both. I'm also intrigued by the Restoration Project model of small discipleship groups, so check that out as well. They have a great "Lenten Challenge" of 20-1-4 where participants are invited to commit to pray for 20 minutes a day, worship one hour a week, and serve for four hours a month (More at PrayWorshipServe). Whatever we do, please know how grateful I am for each of you and the spiritual life we share at Christ Church.
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Church: find your way
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, of course, I'm thinking about Marcia Luce, who died last Friday. It was definitely a first when during our children's sermon on Sunday it was the priest who burst into tears and not a worried toddler who didn't want to go sit at the front of the church! She will be missed, and even though it's been almost a week now, somehow it was only the experience on Sunday of having to deliver the news that made it real. Marcia was senior warden when I came to Christ Church eight years ago, and was such a great source of support and counsel. She was also always the first to tell me I'd done something wrong, but always in the context of such rapid forgiveness that it was nothing short of holy.
In planning for the burial on Sunday, I've been so struck by what a blessing it is to be a truly multigenerational community. Other than in our own families, there are few places in this world in which the very young and the very old are in relationship with each other, and even fewer where we believe all of us to be equals. Every time I meet with a family to talk about baptizing a baby, I emphasize that their child will never be more of a Christian, never more included, never more important, than on that day of their baptism-and never less, either. When we say we are brothers and sisters in Christ, we mean it: the transcendence of the God who brings us all together also enables us to transcend all those differences. This is not to say that we all need the same thing in the community, but it is to say that we need each other.
There are so many dividing lines in the world-whenever we meet someone our tendency is immediately to put them in a category. There's nothing wrong with the categories in themselves: being gay or being from Waltham instead of San Francisco or being young or old are all part of how we understand ourselves. But Christian community also teaches us that while we can identify with those categories, we are still bound to each other in other ways. This is a profoundly radical way of being in the world. If we really know one another across these differences, it's much harder to dismiss each others' concerns. Even if you don't have a kid in church, you can probably see how hiring a part time director of religious education-and even increasing your pledge a teensy bit to try to help pay for it!-is food for your faith. Even if the crazy-time children's sermon drives you bonkers, you can see how asking questions in a different way might teach everyone something. You might be too much of an introvert to enjoy parish dinners, but you also might sneakily donate something to the silent auction to support the cause. Being part of a community isn't about getting your way, it's about finding your way.
So in the meantime, pray for me, as I prepare for Saturday-and pray for each other, in thanksgiving for the grace that leads you together.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, of course, I'm thinking about Marcia Luce, who died last Friday. It was definitely a first when during our children's sermon on Sunday it was the priest who burst into tears and not a worried toddler who didn't want to go sit at the front of the church! She will be missed, and even though it's been almost a week now, somehow it was only the experience on Sunday of having to deliver the news that made it real. Marcia was senior warden when I came to Christ Church eight years ago, and was such a great source of support and counsel. She was also always the first to tell me I'd done something wrong, but always in the context of such rapid forgiveness that it was nothing short of holy.
In planning for the burial on Sunday, I've been so struck by what a blessing it is to be a truly multigenerational community. Other than in our own families, there are few places in this world in which the very young and the very old are in relationship with each other, and even fewer where we believe all of us to be equals. Every time I meet with a family to talk about baptizing a baby, I emphasize that their child will never be more of a Christian, never more included, never more important, than on that day of their baptism-and never less, either. When we say we are brothers and sisters in Christ, we mean it: the transcendence of the God who brings us all together also enables us to transcend all those differences. This is not to say that we all need the same thing in the community, but it is to say that we need each other.
There are so many dividing lines in the world-whenever we meet someone our tendency is immediately to put them in a category. There's nothing wrong with the categories in themselves: being gay or being from Waltham instead of San Francisco or being young or old are all part of how we understand ourselves. But Christian community also teaches us that while we can identify with those categories, we are still bound to each other in other ways. This is a profoundly radical way of being in the world. If we really know one another across these differences, it's much harder to dismiss each others' concerns. Even if you don't have a kid in church, you can probably see how hiring a part time director of religious education-and even increasing your pledge a teensy bit to try to help pay for it!-is food for your faith. Even if the crazy-time children's sermon drives you bonkers, you can see how asking questions in a different way might teach everyone something. You might be too much of an introvert to enjoy parish dinners, but you also might sneakily donate something to the silent auction to support the cause. Being part of a community isn't about getting your way, it's about finding your way.
So in the meantime, pray for me, as I prepare for Saturday-and pray for each other, in thanksgiving for the grace that leads you together.
Blessings,
Sara+
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Our priority: Knowing Christ
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, I'm thinking about priorities.
The vestry met this Monday and talked, finally, about whether or not we were going to go through with the training portion of the Hartford Study. I've written about it in this space before, and many of you were gracious enough to participate in focus groups last May with sociologist David Roozen from Hartford Seminary. There are eleven other congregations in the diocese who are also part of it, and, to be honest, it was kind of nice to feel chosen in being recognized as a growing congregation that was worthy of extra attention. The core part of our participation was to be four day-long Saturday trainings, and I spoke with several folks about being part of a team to participate as well as the wider vestry. It was tough to convince anyone.
So we aren't doing it. I'm excited about this decision for a numberof reasons. Obviously, I'm happy to have four more Saturdays with my family. Of course. The other thing is deeper. The assumption underlying the research model is that there are professional experts who can generalize from our demographics and one Sunday visit how to "improve ourselves," that they then have the expertise to show us how. It also felt like there was a nostalgia for a time that church was somehow easier; if we could just get back to a time when there were more volunteers, more bodies, we'd be fine. Now, there is plenty we can do to improve ourselves. And we do want to grow. As Christians, we are invited
to place repentance at the core of our personal and community practices. How are we being open to newcomers? How are we (gently, respectfully) sharing the good news of what God is doinghere? How are we learning, how are we journeying with Christ? How are we respecting one another, how are we being open to the future and the world? How are we each, as a community and individually, transformed by the fire of God's love? Based on what we heard from the Hartford people, it wasn't clear that that's actually what would happen.
Priorities come back to purpose. One of the central tools of the book we're looking at for fall education is a process of discernment for individuals to consider what, exactly, is most important to us in our lives. This helps us to be clearer about how we use our time and money, and offers us an opportunity to be more joyful in making those choices. The authors write:
Paul states that his ultimate goal was to "know Christ" and the power of resurrection (Philippians 3:10). We're intrigued that the core of the Bible's message about our ultimate purpose isn't about doing or achieving. It's about relationship. Anyone, no matter what their age, or location in life, whether they are rich or poor, can pursue and experience what matters most-learning to live life with God. One way to summarize this is to say that our purpose is: to live with God and participate in the restorative activity of God in our world (Scandrette 52).
So vestry is going to take another direction. Experts are not our priority. The living words and work of God are our priority. The world we encounter here and now is our priority. Our fall plan is for vestry to add a quarterly leadership-focused meeting where we dedicate significant time to bigger picture ideas and goals, to create some time for real discernment about what we're doing. We'll still meet every month for our regular meetings. A week from this Sunday our "sermon talk back time" will open a space
for wider conversation about the readings for the day and what it says to us, to get us talking about our parish life and our own responses to Scripture. Later in November we'll look at ourparish vision to see how we're doing and where we need more focus.
Please RSVP here for Tuesday nights-let me know if you can cook, or lead a children's activity, or just come and share in conversation.
Blessings,
Sara+
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