Thoughts on faith and life from Sara Irwin, rector at Christ Episcopal Church in Waltham, Massachusetts (www.christchurchwaltham.org). Published weekly.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Mission statement
This past week, we celebrated the end of our official stewardship campaign with a delicious soup and bread lunch. Sarah Staley has been a great chair of our stewardship campaign, and the food was delicious. Thanks be to God-and to each of you who have made--and will make--pledges for 2011.
On Sunday at soup and bread, we spread out paper on each of the tables to invite reflection on hospitality, outreach, faith, and stewardship. The first three came out of our GPS and Vestry retreat. Initially, they came to us as a place to put our focus for our work in the coming years-places where we are particularly passionate, and want to develop our mission further. As I thought about them, though, it seemed to me that they were actually more than that-they were at the center of what our community is about all the time, not just things we need some more work on. It's not entirely surprising that we decided to focus on things that we are already pretty serious about.Tyler Mailman's picture on Sunday of "Holding the Doors Open" (above) is about as good a description of hospitality as I can imagine.
After the group did our work around the mission statement, the GPS committee has moved on to putting some thoughts together around vision. Nothing will say it all-particularly not tidy bullet points (ten of them). This process, though, of putting-into-words has been fascinating. What is it, really, that makes us who we are? There is a lot that is un-sayable-as a Christian believer in a pretty "deconstructionish" mode I'm very committed to the notion that words are unreliable and unsteady. At the same time, not articulating a vision and settling down to be a generic "nice church" also isn't something I can get very excited about. It's a discernment process--trying on some things and seeing if they fit. How do we tackle big concepts like oppression? Are we dodging something central to our faith if we leave them out? Or are we being inclusive so as not to be misunderstood? [In that case, as in many others, the Book of Common Prayer came to the rescue--we have cut and pasted liberally from its articulation of things]. So I do think we need this-- and I've kind of enjoyed the challenge. Also, we have benefited a lot from the gifts and talents of our group members. Mike Balulescu has emerged as an amazing scribe for the group, keeping us focused and not letting us get too wordy. So special thanks to him and to Jonathan Duce, our chair.
After more than a month of meetings, we have a draft--loosely categorized under the themes of hospitality, outreach, and faith. The ten concepts we've named will help us to structure our strategic planning for the next several years. This Sunday, we'll distribute copies of the draft that the committee has come up with. It's not a perfect document, but it is a starting place for us to consider how we articulate our hopes for the community. Each of us will have some time to think about it in the coming week, and then we'll have a parish meeting after the 10:00 service on Sunday to hear each other's thoughts. The GPS committee will meet on November 23, and then offer a final draft. If you aren't able to make it to church this Sunday but would like to see what the committee has come up with, please let me know and I will get you the draft.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Hospitality
By now, hopefully you've received your stewardship mailing, or taken a look at the materials displayed at the back of the church. This year's campaign is loosely tied around some themes that emerged from our vestry and GPS ministry committees--hospitality, outreach, and faith. We try to be a welcoming church-- follow up with newcomers when we get those little yellow cards, and hopefully talk with folks at coffee hour or after the service. Hospitality is a deeper Gospel value, though, than just responding to people in a polite way.
In the Biblical world that Jesus grew up in, hospitality was a cardinal virtue. One of my favorite icons is of the three angels who visited Abraham at the oaks of Mamre (it's also interpreted as an icon of the Trinity, and if you look carefully it seems as though the angels are including you, the viewer, as a having a seat at the table). They seem just to be ordinary travelers, but Abraham bends over backwards to welcome them. They slaughter a calf, make cakes, and eat under the oak trees, and the angels tell Abraham and Sarah that they will conceive a child. Sarah laughs, but with God, all things are possible. The story gets picked up again in the letter to the Hebrews, where we are reminded, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." (Heb. 13:2). St Benedict used to tell his monks to welcome every knock on the door saying, "It is the Lord."
The thing about church, though, is that it's easy to always think of ourselves as the welcomers--as if we were the hosts of the table. But the first table we gather around is the altar-the ultimate symbol of hospitality. The coffee hour table comes next, but first is that liturgical, divine hospitality where we are all guests. My Lutheran friends are fond of quoting Martin Luther as saying that Christian evangelism is just one beggar telling another where to find food.
On Sundays, "Welcoming" is bigger than just you or me. It's bigger, even, than our work together. The altar guild puts out what we need to set the table, the priest says the blessing, the people say Amen, and we all eat. We are the Body of Christ and God's hands, but we are not the source. It's God feeding us. We each are welcomed every time we share the Eucharist without qualification. Without regard to our past or our potential, we are welcomed. Without regard to our intelligence, our age, our mindfulness or distraction, we are welcomed. The hospitality of the Eucharist lights a candle testifying to a new reality-dark though it is, we will keep saying Eucharisto! Thank you.
Blessings,
Sara+
PS: for the WS Merwin poem from which I stole parts of that last line, you can click here.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
From June 16:Henri Nouwen on Hospitality
Our Old Testament reading for this past Sunday came from the book of Genesis. During these days of Pentecost, we have the opportunity to read consecutively from Genesis all summer—through most of August. The lectionary allows us to delve more deeply into these stories of our faith—stories that Jesus himself would have heard taught in the synagogues where he also taught. This past Sunday, we met Abraham and Sarah as they are visited by angels bringing a wonderful promise—that they will have a son, even in their old age. The author of the letter to the Hebrews comments on it: Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. (Heb 13: 2). In my sermon, I was reflecting with you about the importance of hospitality—for us to be both givers and receivers of it. I quoted a passage from the writer Henri Nouwen, which I’d like to share again with you here.
This week, keep your eyes open for those angels you find occasion to entertain, “unaware.” Keep your heart open for times that you become an angel of God to others, as they share the gift of hospitality with you.