This week, I'm trying to tie up all my loose ends before my vacation starts on Monday. I've been struck recently about how the theme for this summer at Christ Church seems to be youth and young adults:
We hosted New England Climate Summer last week (last week's e crier post was about them--if you missed it, you can see it on the blog).
We worked at B Safe last Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday:
B Safe is the Episcopal urban day camp we've volunteered with for several years. This year, we added an extra day, helping for 3 days instead of 2 as we have in the past. In sponsoring days at B Safe, we are responsible for providing lunch and paying for a Friday field trip. As one of the kids said to Bill on Wednesday, "You're the guy with the good sandwiches!" --chicken salad, not just tuna! Christ Church has been very generous with donations--about $525 gathered so far--but we are still $164.00 short of covering the cost, so if you have funds to spare, we are still collecting. Special thanks to Bill Fowler for organizing us, and to everyone who made lunches and came to Houghton's Pond and St Augustine and St Martin's in Roxbury.
We have been getting ready to (hopefully) host an intern from the Micah Project:
Rev Christine Nakyeyune, the pastor of St Peter's, and I have been interviewing candidates for an intern position as part of the diocesan Micah Project program. If we are matched with the right person, an intern for 30 hours per week will work with Christ Church and St Peter's to facilitate our joint work, and also help out in each individual congregation. The selection process is, in the end, up to the director of the Micah Project, but I am hopeful that we'll have a person work with us. They'd be here September 2010-July 2011.
This week we are work site for young people from Rediscovery, Inc:
Rediscovery is a local non profit that serves those who are "aging out" of the foster care system. Working with ages 16-24, they help provide resources for children to gain leadership, employment, and life skills. Rediscovery has an impressive record of success. 72% of youth have either received a high school diploma or GED or are on track to do so before leaving their care, compared with 33% average among all youth aging out of foster care. The Rediscovery program we're involved in is a grant they received for summer jobs; for an eight week period, crews of workers go from site to site helping out in the community (at no cost to the host). Here at Christ Church, they painted our bike rack (by the way--thanks to Plug & Play for donating it, and Ken Johnson for delivery) and put a coat of waterproofing on the handicap ramp. They also painted the downstairs back hallway for us, and are now working on the entry way and stairs down to Lower Fales Hall and the Grandma's Panty area. We are thankful for Rediscovery's work with these young people, and thankful that we can benefit from their hard work! Thanks to Warren Barret, Peter Lobo and Jonathan Duce for their support of this project as well.
Our confirmation students' book drive just wrapped up, and our partnership with Children of Incarcerated Parents is beginning with our drive for school supplies. So many thanks to those who have, and will, donate!
I am so proud of how we have been able to open our building, and ourselves, to the needs and gifts of the community around us. Every summer, I think, "Maybe it will slow down this year..." and it never quite does. Thanks be to God!
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
This week, Christ Church is hosting a group from New England Climate Summer. (NECS is a program for college students to take a summer to work for advocacy on environmental issues. It's linked to the 350.org movement, founded by Bill McKibben, which teaches that in order to have a stable planet at the optimum level of air quality for human existence, that we can have no more than 350 parts per million of carbon dioxide (ppm) in the atmosphere. Currently we are at 390ppm--there's a long distance to go.
The decision to support the NECS group came at the last minute; a general request had gone out months ago. I considered it for a moment, and figured someone else would help. College students? Staying here for a week? Too risky! But then, a few days before they were set to roll into town, I got a call from the group's team leader. The place where they had intended to stay had been forced to cancel. Could we help? I called Jonathan and Cindy and talked it over with them (and considered what the insurance company would say) and we decided to go ahead with it. There are people in every day this week, as it happens, so they won't be alone in the building for long.
Observing the "someone else will help" attitude in myself got me thinking about how we tend to be as a society on environmental issues. Too hard, too risky, someone else will figure it out. I recently watched the movie "No Impact Man" about a family in New York City who tries to live with as little environmental impact as possible for a year. The project was sort of panned in the media--it was more the dad's desire than the mom's, though she went along and talked guiltily in the film about enjoying the iced water she could get at work. Their two year old mostly just noticed that she had cloth diapers, now, and that they didn't watch TV anymore. No electricity, no toilet paper, no car.
The major critique was that it was a stunt; a short term, "look at me" kind of project that wouldn't actually change things. Colin Beaven, the "No Impact Man" of the title, granted that it was. What I was so struck by, though, was that he said that he felt like liberals (which he labels himself as) always look for the Big Solution--get government to fix it. Conservatives think government is the problem-and that individuals need to take charge. So the "No Impact" program was, in a way, a conservative project-to take personal responsibility as far as it could go. I found this interpretation kind of intriguing.
It's so overwhelming to even contemplate the level of change in our lifestyle that it will take to address what our environment needs. Our book for our summer reading group, God has a Dream, by Desmond Tutu, talks about how discouraging it can be to think about social change and justice work. We think that because we can't do it all ourselves, all at once, it's not worth it. Nelson Mandela was in prison for 27 years--27 years!--and even that time, Tutu says, was not wasted. Apartheid ended in God's time. As the oil spill in the Gulf goes on 85 days, it's hard to be patient.
Maybe patience isn't what's called for, exactly, but maybe faith is. Not patience for the solution to come, but faith that your work is helping to bring it about. Everything happens in God's time--a real solution to climate change is happening in God's time, too. As God's fellow workers, though, in this vineyard of our earth, we do have some work ahead of us.
Blessings,
Sara+
To see some real numbers on how much small, personal changes actually DO make a difference (and how you might actually be happier having made them), visit Colin Beaven's blog: here.
The Climate Cyclists
The Science of 350 ppm
The decision to support the NECS group came at the last minute; a general request had gone out months ago. I considered it for a moment, and figured someone else would help. College students? Staying here for a week? Too risky! But then, a few days before they were set to roll into town, I got a call from the group's team leader. The place where they had intended to stay had been forced to cancel. Could we help? I called Jonathan and Cindy and talked it over with them (and considered what the insurance company would say) and we decided to go ahead with it. There are people in every day this week, as it happens, so they won't be alone in the building for long.
Observing the "someone else will help" attitude in myself got me thinking about how we tend to be as a society on environmental issues. Too hard, too risky, someone else will figure it out. I recently watched the movie "No Impact Man" about a family in New York City who tries to live with as little environmental impact as possible for a year. The project was sort of panned in the media--it was more the dad's desire than the mom's, though she went along and talked guiltily in the film about enjoying the iced water she could get at work. Their two year old mostly just noticed that she had cloth diapers, now, and that they didn't watch TV anymore. No electricity, no toilet paper, no car.
The major critique was that it was a stunt; a short term, "look at me" kind of project that wouldn't actually change things. Colin Beaven, the "No Impact Man" of the title, granted that it was. What I was so struck by, though, was that he said that he felt like liberals (which he labels himself as) always look for the Big Solution--get government to fix it. Conservatives think government is the problem-and that individuals need to take charge. So the "No Impact" program was, in a way, a conservative project-to take personal responsibility as far as it could go. I found this interpretation kind of intriguing.
It's so overwhelming to even contemplate the level of change in our lifestyle that it will take to address what our environment needs. Our book for our summer reading group, God has a Dream, by Desmond Tutu, talks about how discouraging it can be to think about social change and justice work. We think that because we can't do it all ourselves, all at once, it's not worth it. Nelson Mandela was in prison for 27 years--27 years!--and even that time, Tutu says, was not wasted. Apartheid ended in God's time. As the oil spill in the Gulf goes on 85 days, it's hard to be patient.
Maybe patience isn't what's called for, exactly, but maybe faith is. Not patience for the solution to come, but faith that your work is helping to bring it about. Everything happens in God's time--a real solution to climate change is happening in God's time, too. As God's fellow workers, though, in this vineyard of our earth, we do have some work ahead of us.
Blessings,
Sara+
To see some real numbers on how much small, personal changes actually DO make a difference (and how you might actually be happier having made them), visit Colin Beaven's blog: here.
The Climate Cyclists
The Science of 350 ppm
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Sharing our legacy
This week, we're getting ready for our participation in Waltham History Month, which we'll observe this Saturday with a service of historic Morning Prayer according to the Book of Common Prayer of 1792. After the service, we'll have tours of the church.
Each Sunday as I celebrate the Eucharist, I face our "Great West Window." The dominant images are, of course, Jesus, Mary, and other ordinary stained glass fare. But if you look closely, you also see more unusual images: a lathe, a car, a watch mechanism, gear pump, bicycle wheel, spindle and shuttle, and a foundry ladle. The industrial history of our city is all there (looking even more closely, the window is full of tiny rivets). My own work life is pretty comfortable--there are the occasional late nights and early mornings, but 200 years ago the typical Waltham woman worked at the Lowell textile mill, not in a nice office. The "mill girls" worked for twelve hours a day, from 5 am to 7 pm. They lived together in factory- provided housing, had only Sundays off, and were paid $0.40 per day, less than half of what the lowest paid male worker received. Ouch!
When it comes to Waltham history, of course, you can't go far without meeting the Paines. In our church you can't go far without them; Robert Treat Paine, Jr was elected senior warden of Christ Church in 1897. He was a man of a lot of privilege, the grandson of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence (Robert Treat Paine, Sr), and a very wealthy lawyer. Paine Jr's wife, Lydia Lyman P, died suddenly during the construction of the church, and they dedicated the chancel windows in her memory (the woman kneeling in red in the window is based on a picture of Lydia herself).
Paine was instrumental in building this church and Trinity Church, Copley Square, but he was also intensely dedicated to the rights and protection of those who were less well-off than he. Deeply influenced by his friend Phillips Brooks, the rector of Trinity, he founded a number of organizations to benefit working people, and funded the construction of affordable housing in Boston--many of which were sold to workers at cost. He also was president for many years of the pacifist American Peace Society.
When the demands of his philanthropic work became too demanding, he gave up his work in law. On this decision, he said, "This I regretted for many years. Yet at length I reached the conviction that as we only had this life on earth once, I was not willing to devote at least half of it to the mere business of making money."
The "mere business of making money" --he'd already made a ton of it by that time, but it's still a moving transformation on the part of someone who could have gone from having everything to having--what?--more of everything. We may wonder whether the care and feeding of this behemoth structure we've inherited is worth our time and energy. Paine did--in one part of his autobiography he says that if he knew from the beginning how much the construction of Christ Church would end up costing he may not have gone through with it. But he did, and here we are. After our beautiful church service in the garden on July 4, it'll feel different being inside again.
Still, it is a blessing, and not just for us. This Saturday's service is a chance to open our doors to the wider community and offer a day for them to share this gift. A group lead by Shawn Russell, our treasurer, is busy at work on a grant to apply for Waltham CPA (Community Preservation Act) funds to help restore our building. It's part of Waltham's history--Paines and Lymans and Storers all called this home. This year at history day, we're especially mindful of the legacy of Paine's work--and our place in continuing both his love for the church and his work on behalf of those who are less fortunate.
Each Sunday as I celebrate the Eucharist, I face our "Great West Window." The dominant images are, of course, Jesus, Mary, and other ordinary stained glass fare. But if you look closely, you also see more unusual images: a lathe, a car, a watch mechanism, gear pump, bicycle wheel, spindle and shuttle, and a foundry ladle. The industrial history of our city is all there (looking even more closely, the window is full of tiny rivets). My own work life is pretty comfortable--there are the occasional late nights and early mornings, but 200 years ago the typical Waltham woman worked at the Lowell textile mill, not in a nice office. The "mill girls" worked for twelve hours a day, from 5 am to 7 pm. They lived together in factory- provided housing, had only Sundays off, and were paid $0.40 per day, less than half of what the lowest paid male worker received. Ouch!
When it comes to Waltham history, of course, you can't go far without meeting the Paines. In our church you can't go far without them; Robert Treat Paine, Jr was elected senior warden of Christ Church in 1897. He was a man of a lot of privilege, the grandson of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence (Robert Treat Paine, Sr), and a very wealthy lawyer. Paine Jr's wife, Lydia Lyman P, died suddenly during the construction of the church, and they dedicated the chancel windows in her memory (the woman kneeling in red in the window is based on a picture of Lydia herself).
Paine was instrumental in building this church and Trinity Church, Copley Square, but he was also intensely dedicated to the rights and protection of those who were less well-off than he. Deeply influenced by his friend Phillips Brooks, the rector of Trinity, he founded a number of organizations to benefit working people, and funded the construction of affordable housing in Boston--many of which were sold to workers at cost. He also was president for many years of the pacifist American Peace Society.
When the demands of his philanthropic work became too demanding, he gave up his work in law. On this decision, he said, "This I regretted for many years. Yet at length I reached the conviction that as we only had this life on earth once, I was not willing to devote at least half of it to the mere business of making money."
The "mere business of making money" --he'd already made a ton of it by that time, but it's still a moving transformation on the part of someone who could have gone from having everything to having--what?--more of everything. We may wonder whether the care and feeding of this behemoth structure we've inherited is worth our time and energy. Paine did--in one part of his autobiography he says that if he knew from the beginning how much the construction of Christ Church would end up costing he may not have gone through with it. But he did, and here we are. After our beautiful church service in the garden on July 4, it'll feel different being inside again.
Still, it is a blessing, and not just for us. This Saturday's service is a chance to open our doors to the wider community and offer a day for them to share this gift. A group lead by Shawn Russell, our treasurer, is busy at work on a grant to apply for Waltham CPA (Community Preservation Act) funds to help restore our building. It's part of Waltham's history--Paines and Lymans and Storers all called this home. This year at history day, we're especially mindful of the legacy of Paine's work--and our place in continuing both his love for the church and his work on behalf of those who are less fortunate.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
To follow, not just admire
This Sunday, July 4, we'll be celebrating the Eucharist out on the lawn. I hope that if you're in town, you'll join us at 9 AM. It's the first Sunday of the month, which would be our usual Children's Sunday, but since there will be enough going on as it is (and it would also be hard to see and hear), I'll just preach a shorter, extemporaneous sermon. I think, though, that our outside worship will help to accomplish some of what we try to do in our those services: to unsettle our sedate habits (which heaven knows we Episcopalians have plenty of), to listen for the Gospel in unexpected places. Like our children's services, it wouldn't be appropriate to do all the time, but I'm looking forward to it. Plus it's a good time to use up the rest of the delicious communion bread that our confirmation class made us for Holy Week!
We'll continue reading the book of Kings (more about that on Sunday). Our Gospel has Jesus sending out "the 70." He's already sent out the twelve disciples on mission within Israel, but these will go on a wider journey. 70 is the traditional Jewish number of nations of the world--the descendants of Noah (Genesis 10: 2-31). The seventy are "like lambs into the midst of wolves," defenseless in the midst of hostile communities. But the coming of Christ is a reign of peace, when, as the prophet Isaiah announced, the wolf and lamb will eat together (Isa 65:25). They are sent into the midst of wolves--our Gospel tells us that they are instructed not to bring a bag or a staff, either. That's symbolic of their work--they have only themselves and their story, their hands, their feet.
The seventy just have themselves; that's all we have, too. And sometimes it can feel as though there are wolves out there. All we have is the way we live our lives. All we have is the story of the work that Christ has done in our lives, that we have been freed and forgiven, and called and sent out to give that to others. Being a church is not just about keeping it for ourselves and talking about how good we feel! Last year, when New Hampshire Bishop Gene Robinson was in Boston, I saw this quote in an interview with him:
It seems to me that the greatest danger that you and I face as a church, as individuals and corporately, is that we will be admirers of Jesus only, and not followers. We love to admire Jesus, don't we? We love to gather, and slap each other on the back, and say, 'How great it is to see you again this Sunday.' And we love to listen to those great stories about Jesus. Wasn't he a great guy? Didn't he do some awesome things? But following him is not only much harder, but the point. If the church is in danger of anything, it is in danger of being a club of admirers of Jesus, rather than followers.
We are sent out to the corners of the world with just ourselves, to tell the story of peace, love, and justice--not just tell the story of Christ's ministry, death, resurrection--peace, justice, and love--but to do his work, too. To follow, not just admire.
That's the invitation we have to give others--radical acceptance, radical growth, and radical social change--a world where no one is worth less than another, where the lion lies down with the lamb. And though I am very proud of Bishop Katharine these days for her theological poise and grace, all of the power plays of all the Archbishops are beside the point.
How does your faith impact your life? What will you do differently, in this new life you've been given? How will you be telling the story, today, tomorrow, the day after?
Blessings,
Sara+
We'll continue reading the book of Kings (more about that on Sunday). Our Gospel has Jesus sending out "the 70." He's already sent out the twelve disciples on mission within Israel, but these will go on a wider journey. 70 is the traditional Jewish number of nations of the world--the descendants of Noah (Genesis 10: 2-31). The seventy are "like lambs into the midst of wolves," defenseless in the midst of hostile communities. But the coming of Christ is a reign of peace, when, as the prophet Isaiah announced, the wolf and lamb will eat together (Isa 65:25). They are sent into the midst of wolves--our Gospel tells us that they are instructed not to bring a bag or a staff, either. That's symbolic of their work--they have only themselves and their story, their hands, their feet.
The seventy just have themselves; that's all we have, too. And sometimes it can feel as though there are wolves out there. All we have is the way we live our lives. All we have is the story of the work that Christ has done in our lives, that we have been freed and forgiven, and called and sent out to give that to others. Being a church is not just about keeping it for ourselves and talking about how good we feel! Last year, when New Hampshire Bishop Gene Robinson was in Boston, I saw this quote in an interview with him:
It seems to me that the greatest danger that you and I face as a church, as individuals and corporately, is that we will be admirers of Jesus only, and not followers. We love to admire Jesus, don't we? We love to gather, and slap each other on the back, and say, 'How great it is to see you again this Sunday.' And we love to listen to those great stories about Jesus. Wasn't he a great guy? Didn't he do some awesome things? But following him is not only much harder, but the point. If the church is in danger of anything, it is in danger of being a club of admirers of Jesus, rather than followers.
We are sent out to the corners of the world with just ourselves, to tell the story of peace, love, and justice--not just tell the story of Christ's ministry, death, resurrection--peace, justice, and love--but to do his work, too. To follow, not just admire.
That's the invitation we have to give others--radical acceptance, radical growth, and radical social change--a world where no one is worth less than another, where the lion lies down with the lamb. And though I am very proud of Bishop Katharine these days for her theological poise and grace, all of the power plays of all the Archbishops are beside the point.
How does your faith impact your life? What will you do differently, in this new life you've been given? How will you be telling the story, today, tomorrow, the day after?
Blessings,
Sara+
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
From June 24: Action Steps to End Homelessness
Tonight, Christ Church will be the host for the "Interfaith Collaborations to End Homelessness: Next Steps for the Boston Region." Building on the work of the March 25 Forum, which welcomed State Senator Byron Rushing, tonight's meeting will bring us together to look at some action steps for ending homelessness. There are several important bills before the legislature, and the state's affordable housing law will be on the ballot in November.
In his address at the first meeting, Byron Rushing (one of "ours"--he's an Episcopalian) talked about how his family was poor as a child. "Why are we poor," he asked his mother. "Because we don't have any money." "Why are the homeless homeless? Because they have no homes." People of my generation don't realize that it hasn't always been this way, that homelessness as an accepted fact of life is a fairly recent phenomenon. Rushing reminded us: "I want to make clear to young people: It's something that doesn't have to be, because it's not something that always was," Rushing said.
Instead, people like me are inclined to rush to services; day centers so people don't have to be outside, storage lockers, PO Boxes, voicemail, shelter beds. But if you have a home, that's not necessary. The state spends thousands of dollars to put people in temporary housing in hotels when our shelters are filled; it's astonishingly poor logic to say that society can't get organized enough to create affordable housing, but we can use more than twice the money that that would take to give (inadequate) temporary shelter.
My first church job, ten years ago, was with the homeless work at St John's, Bowdoin Street in Boston and Ecclesia Ministries. At 21, I had never met anyone who was homeless, nevermind actually shared a meal or a prayer. I soon learned that being homeless is kind of like a full time job. Though many homeless people also have paid employment, in addition to that they spend time going from shelter to shelter, fulfilling requirements for public assistance. They find a shelter with a bed available, and have to arrive at a certain time and leave at a certain time, and figure out the schedule of available meals around the city. Fighting addiction or mental illness, everything becomes even more complicated. There are health costs, too--to society and to individuals. According to the Boston's Health Care for the Homeless, "119 street dwellers accounted for an astounding 18,384 emergency room visits and 871 medical hospitalizations over a five year period. The average annual health care cost for individuals living on the street was $28,436, compared to $6,056 for individuals in the cohort who obtained housing."
Meeting the direct needs of people, with food and a bed to sleep in, is a start, but it's not the final answer. I'm reminded of a story often told by former NAACP Chairman Julian Bond:
Two men are sitting by a river and see, to their great surprise, a helpless baby floating by. They rescue the child, and to their horror, another baby soon comes floating down the stream. When that child is pulled to safety, another baby comes along. As one man plunges into the river a third time, the other rushes upstream.
"Come back!" yells the man in the water. "We must save this baby!"
"You save it," the other yells back. "I'm going to find out who is throwing babies in the river and I'm going to make them stop!"
That's the challenge of justice work; don't just pull the baby out of the water; find out why so many of them are getting thrown in. The move of charity is to pull out the babies--we have to do that, too--have to give them diapers, and give their grandparents food--but that's not the whole of our task. Tonight's meeting, in whatever small way, invites us to see how we can accomplish the justice work that is set before us as well.
Blessings,
Sara+
In his address at the first meeting, Byron Rushing (one of "ours"--he's an Episcopalian) talked about how his family was poor as a child. "Why are we poor," he asked his mother. "Because we don't have any money." "Why are the homeless homeless? Because they have no homes." People of my generation don't realize that it hasn't always been this way, that homelessness as an accepted fact of life is a fairly recent phenomenon. Rushing reminded us: "I want to make clear to young people: It's something that doesn't have to be, because it's not something that always was," Rushing said.
Instead, people like me are inclined to rush to services; day centers so people don't have to be outside, storage lockers, PO Boxes, voicemail, shelter beds. But if you have a home, that's not necessary. The state spends thousands of dollars to put people in temporary housing in hotels when our shelters are filled; it's astonishingly poor logic to say that society can't get organized enough to create affordable housing, but we can use more than twice the money that that would take to give (inadequate) temporary shelter.
My first church job, ten years ago, was with the homeless work at St John's, Bowdoin Street in Boston and Ecclesia Ministries. At 21, I had never met anyone who was homeless, nevermind actually shared a meal or a prayer. I soon learned that being homeless is kind of like a full time job. Though many homeless people also have paid employment, in addition to that they spend time going from shelter to shelter, fulfilling requirements for public assistance. They find a shelter with a bed available, and have to arrive at a certain time and leave at a certain time, and figure out the schedule of available meals around the city. Fighting addiction or mental illness, everything becomes even more complicated. There are health costs, too--to society and to individuals. According to the Boston's Health Care for the Homeless, "119 street dwellers accounted for an astounding 18,384 emergency room visits and 871 medical hospitalizations over a five year period. The average annual health care cost for individuals living on the street was $28,436, compared to $6,056 for individuals in the cohort who obtained housing."
Meeting the direct needs of people, with food and a bed to sleep in, is a start, but it's not the final answer. I'm reminded of a story often told by former NAACP Chairman Julian Bond:
Two men are sitting by a river and see, to their great surprise, a helpless baby floating by. They rescue the child, and to their horror, another baby soon comes floating down the stream. When that child is pulled to safety, another baby comes along. As one man plunges into the river a third time, the other rushes upstream.
"Come back!" yells the man in the water. "We must save this baby!"
"You save it," the other yells back. "I'm going to find out who is throwing babies in the river and I'm going to make them stop!"
That's the challenge of justice work; don't just pull the baby out of the water; find out why so many of them are getting thrown in. The move of charity is to pull out the babies--we have to do that, too--have to give them diapers, and give their grandparents food--but that's not the whole of our task. Tonight's meeting, in whatever small way, invites us to see how we can accomplish the justice work that is set before us as well.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Mission Statement
As you know, the "GPS" (God's People Serving) Committee has been meeting for some time now at crafting a mission statement. Working from the surveys we received, we attempted to gather all the different threads of what we are about as a congregation. Here's what we have:
Christ Church Waltham is a welcoming Episcopal community brought together in our common worship of God and united in our desire to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.
At the parish meeting on Sunday, June 6, about 25 people met after the service to review our draft and talk in small groups. What about the Holy Spirit? Why say "persons," and not "people?" Is it too self-congratulatory to say that we are welcoming? Is it redundant to say "brought together" in one clause and "united" in another? What's with all of those verbs? And shouldn't it be about Waltham, since that's where we are?
These ideas in hand, we returned to the drawing board.
In our group, we tended toward the old joke of four people and five opinions. For some of us, changing to "people" made sense. After all, "persons" sounds a little strange, and you want the reader's emphasis to be on "all," not on wondering about the word choice. For others, though, the emphasis of "persons" helped to stress that we seek and serve Christ in each individual soul; not some generalized mass of humanity. We all liked that "seek and serve Christ in all persons" is the phrasing in the baptismal covenant in the Book of Common Prayer, and we liked the emphasis on remembering our baptism. (loving your neighbor as yourself also follows in the BCP)
Could we make it shorter? We tried! We also wrote some versions with mention of the Holy Spirit. We have a reference to Christ, and to "God" (which isn't specific, but might be read as God the Father or God the Creator). Paradoxically, though, adding in the Holy Spirit could have the unintended result of making "God" mean only God the Father/Creator (since it would be juxtaposed with the other two parts of the Trinity). But our worship is about all three, so we were back to having God just be "God," to signify the Trinity as a whole. The notion of being brought together (from different places) and united (in our differences) really resonated with us, so ended up keeping all of the verbs, too. Initially, our draft just said "We are a welcoming Episcopal Community..." but then people at the Sunday meeting suggested adding "Waltham," so we changed the first sentence to "Christ Church Waltham is..."
Being part of this process has been both fascinating (in an intellectual way) and a spiritual gift. The openness of each person to the voice of the others in the group is so moving, and to be part of a process of dialogue where consensus takes shape is just plain cool. It's not so much that we convinced each other of our opinions, but that the result just emerged.
We had planned to have GPS and Vestry meet together this Saturday for a retreat to talk more about vision and strategic plans for the coming years, but that has been postponed so that more members have a chance to participate. We're hoping for late August, so you'll hear more about the work then. As always, please feel free to talk with me or any vestry or GPS member if you have further thoughts.
Blessings,
Sara+ writing for the GPS Committee:
Mike, Sarah, Gene, Jonathan, Christie, Kristin, Cindy, and Marcia
Christ Church Waltham is a welcoming Episcopal community brought together in our common worship of God and united in our desire to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.
At the parish meeting on Sunday, June 6, about 25 people met after the service to review our draft and talk in small groups. What about the Holy Spirit? Why say "persons," and not "people?" Is it too self-congratulatory to say that we are welcoming? Is it redundant to say "brought together" in one clause and "united" in another? What's with all of those verbs? And shouldn't it be about Waltham, since that's where we are?
These ideas in hand, we returned to the drawing board.
In our group, we tended toward the old joke of four people and five opinions. For some of us, changing to "people" made sense. After all, "persons" sounds a little strange, and you want the reader's emphasis to be on "all," not on wondering about the word choice. For others, though, the emphasis of "persons" helped to stress that we seek and serve Christ in each individual soul; not some generalized mass of humanity. We all liked that "seek and serve Christ in all persons" is the phrasing in the baptismal covenant in the Book of Common Prayer, and we liked the emphasis on remembering our baptism. (loving your neighbor as yourself also follows in the BCP)
Could we make it shorter? We tried! We also wrote some versions with mention of the Holy Spirit. We have a reference to Christ, and to "God" (which isn't specific, but might be read as God the Father or God the Creator). Paradoxically, though, adding in the Holy Spirit could have the unintended result of making "God" mean only God the Father/Creator (since it would be juxtaposed with the other two parts of the Trinity). But our worship is about all three, so we were back to having God just be "God," to signify the Trinity as a whole. The notion of being brought together (from different places) and united (in our differences) really resonated with us, so ended up keeping all of the verbs, too. Initially, our draft just said "We are a welcoming Episcopal Community..." but then people at the Sunday meeting suggested adding "Waltham," so we changed the first sentence to "Christ Church Waltham is..."
Being part of this process has been both fascinating (in an intellectual way) and a spiritual gift. The openness of each person to the voice of the others in the group is so moving, and to be part of a process of dialogue where consensus takes shape is just plain cool. It's not so much that we convinced each other of our opinions, but that the result just emerged.
We had planned to have GPS and Vestry meet together this Saturday for a retreat to talk more about vision and strategic plans for the coming years, but that has been postponed so that more members have a chance to participate. We're hoping for late August, so you'll hear more about the work then. As always, please feel free to talk with me or any vestry or GPS member if you have further thoughts.
Blessings,
Sara+ writing for the GPS Committee:
Mike, Sarah, Gene, Jonathan, Christie, Kristin, Cindy, and Marcia
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Growth and The Great Commission
On Sunday, we were sad to share the news that Mary Bonnyman passed away last Thursday afternoon at Epoch, where she'd been staying for some time. Her granddaughter, Chrissie, was with her, and she'd had a good day. She was 95. The service for Mary will be this Saturday at 11 AM. She'll be buried later this summer in her family's plot in her native Nova Scotia.
In our "GPS" meetings, we've been talking about growth; what does it mean to grow? Do we want to? It feels like we're supposed to want to, but it can also feel good to be in a church where you know everyone. Is it OK to just want to be sustainable, with enough people and money to accomplish the things we want to do? Of course, there aren't really simple answers to any of these things. It's hard when things change--even positive changes. The Great Commission, which ends the Gospel of Matthew, tells us we have to. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (28:19-20).
Unfortunately, a lot of terrible things in Christian history have happened in the name of the Great Commission. In her excellent Pentecost letter, our Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, talks about how, "in their search for uniformity, our forebears in the faith have repeatedly done much spiritual violence in the name of Christianity," giving examples of the suppression of Native American cultural practices which, theologically, are congruent with Christian orthodoxy but made missionaries personally uncomfortable. Too often, that kind of missionary work ends up being a dividing line, with "Good Christian" on one side of the line, and "Condemned Heathen" on the other. And almost always in that scheme, the "Good Christians" are all supposed to think and act the same.
The good news is that it doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to be old-style missionaries who travel the world (or stand with sandwich board signs on the street corner) telling people to repent. But we are still called to share our faith. I was talking with Noah about this the other day and he put it rather starkly: "If my faith is important to me, and I don't share it with others, then I'm saying 'this wonderful thing is MINE, and you can't have it."
Instead, we can share our faith out of the example of our lives--how we are changed, how we learn generosity, and peace, and kindness and justice--and how we are fed, forgiven, and loved.
But what happens when people actually take us up on it? If everyone invited a friend to church, and our sleepy summer services ended up with as many people as Easter Sunday? What would that feel like? Are we ready to open our arms to just anybody? I hope so, and I also hope that when we do talk about growth, that we can get out from under the financial imperative. Yes we need more pledges. Yes we need to grow to support our building and our staff. But we also need to grow because it's part of our faith. Spiritually, I believe we are called to a kind of "holy instability" when it comes to our communities, because they don't just belong to us. We need to always be facing outward toward the world to welcome in that world. It needs what we have!
We need to take care of ourselves, too--but the good news is that we can do both at the same time. We can take care of ourselves by having a potluck supper and games night at the same time as we make that event Bring a Friend to Church party. It's not a zero-sum game, where being open to others means not taking care of ourselves. There's enough grace, and space, for everyone when we realize that it's not our job to provide it--it's God's. And God can always come up with enough for everyone.
Blessings,
Sara+
For Bishop Katharine's Pentecost letter, click here.
Her letter is a response to Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, whose own Pentecost letter was a sort of reprimand of the American Church--For Diana Butler Bass' very good analysis of the conflict, "The REAL Reason for the Anglican-Episcopal Divide" click here. She points out that recent disagreements over sexuality are actually disagreements about how Anglicanism works--and what kind of church we want to be.
In our "GPS" meetings, we've been talking about growth; what does it mean to grow? Do we want to? It feels like we're supposed to want to, but it can also feel good to be in a church where you know everyone. Is it OK to just want to be sustainable, with enough people and money to accomplish the things we want to do? Of course, there aren't really simple answers to any of these things. It's hard when things change--even positive changes. The Great Commission, which ends the Gospel of Matthew, tells us we have to. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (28:19-20).
Unfortunately, a lot of terrible things in Christian history have happened in the name of the Great Commission. In her excellent Pentecost letter, our Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, talks about how, "in their search for uniformity, our forebears in the faith have repeatedly done much spiritual violence in the name of Christianity," giving examples of the suppression of Native American cultural practices which, theologically, are congruent with Christian orthodoxy but made missionaries personally uncomfortable. Too often, that kind of missionary work ends up being a dividing line, with "Good Christian" on one side of the line, and "Condemned Heathen" on the other. And almost always in that scheme, the "Good Christians" are all supposed to think and act the same.
The good news is that it doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to be old-style missionaries who travel the world (or stand with sandwich board signs on the street corner) telling people to repent. But we are still called to share our faith. I was talking with Noah about this the other day and he put it rather starkly: "If my faith is important to me, and I don't share it with others, then I'm saying 'this wonderful thing is MINE, and you can't have it."
Instead, we can share our faith out of the example of our lives--how we are changed, how we learn generosity, and peace, and kindness and justice--and how we are fed, forgiven, and loved.
But what happens when people actually take us up on it? If everyone invited a friend to church, and our sleepy summer services ended up with as many people as Easter Sunday? What would that feel like? Are we ready to open our arms to just anybody? I hope so, and I also hope that when we do talk about growth, that we can get out from under the financial imperative. Yes we need more pledges. Yes we need to grow to support our building and our staff. But we also need to grow because it's part of our faith. Spiritually, I believe we are called to a kind of "holy instability" when it comes to our communities, because they don't just belong to us. We need to always be facing outward toward the world to welcome in that world. It needs what we have!
We need to take care of ourselves, too--but the good news is that we can do both at the same time. We can take care of ourselves by having a potluck supper and games night at the same time as we make that event Bring a Friend to Church party. It's not a zero-sum game, where being open to others means not taking care of ourselves. There's enough grace, and space, for everyone when we realize that it's not our job to provide it--it's God's. And God can always come up with enough for everyone.
Blessings,
Sara+
For Bishop Katharine's Pentecost letter, click here.
Her letter is a response to Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, whose own Pentecost letter was a sort of reprimand of the American Church--For Diana Butler Bass' very good analysis of the conflict, "The REAL Reason for the Anglican-Episcopal Divide" click here. She points out that recent disagreements over sexuality are actually disagreements about how Anglicanism works--and what kind of church we want to be.
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