Dear People of Christ Church:
What is your prayer for our parish?
It's not a rhetorical question. For our upcoming Quarterly on prayer, our hope is to assemble a collection of people's prayers-prayers of request, prayers of thanksgiving, prayers of ..? what? We hope to take each one of our petitions and put them together in one psalm, our many voices becoming one voice.
What is my prayer? I've had many different prayers over the years that I've been at Christ Church. When I first arrived in 2005, I prayed to know what to do; I was 26, and had been ordained for just a little more than a year. Now, I pray not to get too comfortable; my large desk and comfortable habits have a nice way of lulling me into complacence that I know what I'm doing and what comes next.
In the past year, I've noticed that one recurring prayer is a prayer of thanksgiving for belief. Somehow since Holy Week this year, I've found myself witnessing the story of our faith in a different way; I could always explain in the abstract what it meant and why, and how I believed or didn't. This year, I find myself thankful both for the substance of the belief- God's creation of the world, Christ's ministry, death, and resurrection-but also the experience of belief in the first place. To believe-credo-to give one's heart to something-is an amazing gift.
The apostle Paul wrote to the Church in Rome, "The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words (Romans 8:26). God came to us before we came to God, and at the same time God prays in us with God's own voice. At the same time, on a psychological level, we are awfully prone to get in God's way. The philosopher William James (1984-1910) gave a lecture called "The Will to Believe," in which, basically, he says it's worse to be so afraid of being duped that we are unable to believe anything than it is to be wrong. Not deciding, in effect, is deciding. "It is like a general informing his soldiers that it is better to keep out of battle forever than to risk a single wound. . . Our errors are surely not such awfully solemn things." (The Will to Believe, Section VII).
Belief is something of a dance; part us, part God, part mystery. Belief is a gift, but that not everyone believes is hardly a sign that God has withheld this from them. What I find helpful about James' insight is that it helps us to see belief as a mutual process. We choose, but we are also chosen. (How that happens is the part where mystery comes in). What is life-giving for one must not be life-giving for all. But the One who gives life gives it freely.
So this year, I've been feeling particularly thankful for my faith, and so my prayer for Christ Church is something like this:
For belief, O Christ, for belief in you and celebration of your gifts. That we all may know your love and share it with others, within these walls and without.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Fish for People
Dear People of Christ Church,
I look forward to being back with you this Sunday for our service at 9am; I've been to church a few times over vacation, but there is nothing like your home altar.
Two weeks ago, my family had the opportunity to worship at the Holy Trinity Anglican Church on Grosse Ile, part of the Magdalen Islands of Canada. The Magdalen Islands are accessible by a five hour ferry ride north of Prince Edward Island (which is, in turn, a 12 hour drive from here)-in short, they are far away! The Magdalens are part of Quebec, but there is a tiny English speaking community on the islands. There are three English speaking churches on the islands, and we went to the big one-there were about 15 people in addition to my family.
The service was nice enough, but I was most struck by the stained glass window at the front. The windows portray Jesus calling Simon Peter and Andrew-walking by the Sea of Galilee, he sees them throwing in their net, doing their work. He said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him."
I've always liked the story because it portrays Jesus doing what God still does-going to people right where they are. In the window, though, it's not some airy tunic-clad wispy Jesus; it's Jesus as an actual fisherman, wearing a thick sweater and big boots (The window was created in 1986). A girl standing near him has jeans on, and the hills of the East Cape of the Magdalens are visible in the background. Another is holding a thick rope, with overalls and a knit cap.
What would this window look like if it were made in Waltham? We have one answer, our own great West window. It's not as explicitly time-bending, but it's full of local imagery and speaks to the central focus of our city at the time. Rivets, cars, gears, factory equipment-it's dedicated to the power and meaning of work. God working, as the creator, Noah building the ark, Ruth gleaning the fields-this is one generation's answer to God reaching people where they are.
What is your image for this? Is it Jesus in a committee meeting, a sales call, a performance evaluation? Jesus with you adjusting a patient's medicine, or sharing a secret smile as a coworker talks about something? Jesus with you, leading a small child back to bed after his fifth trip to the bathroom of the night? Is it hard to imagine Jesus in a business suit, or scrubs, or coveralls?
This is the power of the Christian hope and resurrection: that Christ, the risen Lord, is risen right here and now, working in our lives and with our own hands and feet. Crashing through all the boundaries of time, space, location, gender, language, convention. When was the last time you saw him? When did she show you God's grace?
Blessings,
Sara+
I look forward to being back with you this Sunday for our service at 9am; I've been to church a few times over vacation, but there is nothing like your home altar.
Two weeks ago, my family had the opportunity to worship at the Holy Trinity Anglican Church on Grosse Ile, part of the Magdalen Islands of Canada. The Magdalen Islands are accessible by a five hour ferry ride north of Prince Edward Island (which is, in turn, a 12 hour drive from here)-in short, they are far away! The Magdalens are part of Quebec, but there is a tiny English speaking community on the islands. There are three English speaking churches on the islands, and we went to the big one-there were about 15 people in addition to my family.
The service was nice enough, but I was most struck by the stained glass window at the front. The windows portray Jesus calling Simon Peter and Andrew-walking by the Sea of Galilee, he sees them throwing in their net, doing their work. He said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him."
I've always liked the story because it portrays Jesus doing what God still does-going to people right where they are. In the window, though, it's not some airy tunic-clad wispy Jesus; it's Jesus as an actual fisherman, wearing a thick sweater and big boots (The window was created in 1986). A girl standing near him has jeans on, and the hills of the East Cape of the Magdalens are visible in the background. Another is holding a thick rope, with overalls and a knit cap.
What would this window look like if it were made in Waltham? We have one answer, our own great West window. It's not as explicitly time-bending, but it's full of local imagery and speaks to the central focus of our city at the time. Rivets, cars, gears, factory equipment-it's dedicated to the power and meaning of work. God working, as the creator, Noah building the ark, Ruth gleaning the fields-this is one generation's answer to God reaching people where they are.
What is your image for this? Is it Jesus in a committee meeting, a sales call, a performance evaluation? Jesus with you adjusting a patient's medicine, or sharing a secret smile as a coworker talks about something? Jesus with you, leading a small child back to bed after his fifth trip to the bathroom of the night? Is it hard to imagine Jesus in a business suit, or scrubs, or coveralls?
This is the power of the Christian hope and resurrection: that Christ, the risen Lord, is risen right here and now, working in our lives and with our own hands and feet. Crashing through all the boundaries of time, space, location, gender, language, convention. When was the last time you saw him? When did she show you God's grace?
Blessings,
Sara+
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Dear People of Christ Church,
Writing, late, on a Thursday afternoon, thinking of endings and beginnings; we said goodbye to our Micah Intern, Paul, this week, in a variety of ways, and he and I had some time together to think about what we'd celebrated together this year. I encourage you to take a look at the pictures from this year on our facebook page. You don't have to be a member of Facebook to see them. (Thanks to St Peter's member Edith Williams, who took many of the Christ Church and St Peter's joint event pictures) I've spoken to the director of the Micah Project, who won't spill the beans about who, exactly, we'll have working with us next year, but I am assured that "you'll be very happy." We'll welcome the next intern in early September next year.
Historic Waltham Day on Saturday was our most successful ever, thanks to our parish historian Mike Balulescu and our guests, one of whom, a descendent of Homer Sewall, was excited to see a stained glass window offered by his relatives. Other attendees included volunteers from Stonehurst, the Paines' summer home, who were glad to tour the parish that Robert Treat Paine Jr helped to build. It was also nice to see the Cohn family, who look forward to getting involved in the parish, as well as several other curious souls. Last week also saw our annual work with B Safe, and our field trip to Houghton's Pond. We've so far raised $485 to defray costs of the bus for the field trip and the food, so special thanks to each of you who have donated! One camper on Thursday told me that Bill Fowler's macaroni and cheese was the best lunch he'd had all year, so your donations are certainly appreciated by all.
Otherwise, I'm getting ready to go on vacation-three weeks off (!) starting on Monday. In case of any parish emergencies, senior warden Jonathan Duce is on call, with nearby clergy just a phone call away in case any pastoral issues come up. I'll be with you this week, but after that will be away. We have a stellar lineup of guest clergy, all of whom are fascinating people and good priests. Please don't take the rest of the summer off! This summer our Hebrew Scriptures readings are from Genesis and Exodus, read consecutively, an opportunity we have given the revised lectionary officially adopted at General Convention in 2009. Such good stories, meant to be read aloud, as we engage them on Sundays. I'll miss being with you as you continue on through with Jacob and on with Joseph. One of my favorite moments in the Old Testament comes when Joseph is reunited with his brothers after they sold him as a slave in a jealous rage. They come to him, terrified that he will punish them for their cruelty. Instead, he forgives:
"Do not be afraid! Am I in the place of God? Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today. (Genesis 50:19-20). How often do our own stories reflect that? Even in the darkest and most painful encounters, God never intends for us to suffer, but always is with us.
Blessings,
Sara+
Writing, late, on a Thursday afternoon, thinking of endings and beginnings; we said goodbye to our Micah Intern, Paul, this week, in a variety of ways, and he and I had some time together to think about what we'd celebrated together this year. I encourage you to take a look at the pictures from this year on our facebook page. You don't have to be a member of Facebook to see them. (Thanks to St Peter's member Edith Williams, who took many of the Christ Church and St Peter's joint event pictures) I've spoken to the director of the Micah Project, who won't spill the beans about who, exactly, we'll have working with us next year, but I am assured that "you'll be very happy." We'll welcome the next intern in early September next year.
Historic Waltham Day on Saturday was our most successful ever, thanks to our parish historian Mike Balulescu and our guests, one of whom, a descendent of Homer Sewall, was excited to see a stained glass window offered by his relatives. Other attendees included volunteers from Stonehurst, the Paines' summer home, who were glad to tour the parish that Robert Treat Paine Jr helped to build. It was also nice to see the Cohn family, who look forward to getting involved in the parish, as well as several other curious souls. Last week also saw our annual work with B Safe, and our field trip to Houghton's Pond. We've so far raised $485 to defray costs of the bus for the field trip and the food, so special thanks to each of you who have donated! One camper on Thursday told me that Bill Fowler's macaroni and cheese was the best lunch he'd had all year, so your donations are certainly appreciated by all.
Otherwise, I'm getting ready to go on vacation-three weeks off (!) starting on Monday. In case of any parish emergencies, senior warden Jonathan Duce is on call, with nearby clergy just a phone call away in case any pastoral issues come up. I'll be with you this week, but after that will be away. We have a stellar lineup of guest clergy, all of whom are fascinating people and good priests. Please don't take the rest of the summer off! This summer our Hebrew Scriptures readings are from Genesis and Exodus, read consecutively, an opportunity we have given the revised lectionary officially adopted at General Convention in 2009. Such good stories, meant to be read aloud, as we engage them on Sundays. I'll miss being with you as you continue on through with Jacob and on with Joseph. One of my favorite moments in the Old Testament comes when Joseph is reunited with his brothers after they sold him as a slave in a jealous rage. They come to him, terrified that he will punish them for their cruelty. Instead, he forgives:
"Do not be afraid! Am I in the place of God? Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today. (Genesis 50:19-20). How often do our own stories reflect that? Even in the darkest and most painful encounters, God never intends for us to suffer, but always is with us.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Dear People of Christ Church,
This Saturday, we celebrate Historic Waltham Day at Christ Church, with morning prayer according to the prayer book used at the construction of the church. For a liturgy geek such as myself, I find it fascinating—and encouraging—to see through history how our worship has changed and how it’s stayed the same. One of the principles of Anglicanism is that it’s close to the ground; when communities change, the liturgy has room to change as well.
Saturday’s liturgy of Morning Prayer is in accordance with the Book of Common Prayer (BCP) 1790, of the 1871 standard. Before the 1892 Edition of the U. S. Book of Common Prayer, minor changes were made, published in “standard editions” of the years 1793, 1822, 1832, 1838, 1845, and 1871. Each year’s changes were minor, having mostly to do with format and the regularization of spelling, which was not uniform in 1790. After this BCP, a slight revision was published in 1892, and wholesale revisions followed in 1928 and 1979, the version found in the pew today.
Each book reflects theological ideas and themes of the time. The Episcopal Church has always found itself on a continuum of “protestant” and “catholic,” more one or the other at different times and places. For example, the term “minister” is used in the 1790 prayer book, a more “protestant” identification than “priest,” which, along with “Celebrant” or “Officiant” is used in 1979. Other controversies included the subject of kneeling for communion and what vestments were worn. And don’t forget candles! Candles were hugely controversial. I imagine 100 years from now people will look back on the controversies of our day and wonder how we could possibly get so worked up about the things that vex us now.
Under the Books of Common Prayer 1892 and in 1928, Morning Prayer was a more commonly celebrated service of Sunday worship; Holy Eucharist was observed for special occasions or, perhaps, once a month. In 1979, the Episcopal Church returned to the earliest church practice of having Holy Eucharist celebrated each Sunday for worship. Our Current Book of Common Prayer (1979) continues to serve us well. Supplements have been published that permit for new prayers to be used in the framework of the Book of Common Prayer that offer more expansive imagery for God and more inclusive gender identifications. And no prayers today use the word “heathen!”
I warmly invite each of you to come this Saturday. I don’t know how “spiritual” it will be (after all, there is a reason all the changes that have transpired since then have been made) but it sure is interesting.
For more on our history and the builders of Christ Church, see my post from this time last year.
http://ecrier.blogspot.com/2010/07/sharing-our-legacy.html
This Saturday, we celebrate Historic Waltham Day at Christ Church, with morning prayer according to the prayer book used at the construction of the church. For a liturgy geek such as myself, I find it fascinating—and encouraging—to see through history how our worship has changed and how it’s stayed the same. One of the principles of Anglicanism is that it’s close to the ground; when communities change, the liturgy has room to change as well.
Saturday’s liturgy of Morning Prayer is in accordance with the Book of Common Prayer (BCP) 1790, of the 1871 standard. Before the 1892 Edition of the U. S. Book of Common Prayer, minor changes were made, published in “standard editions” of the years 1793, 1822, 1832, 1838, 1845, and 1871. Each year’s changes were minor, having mostly to do with format and the regularization of spelling, which was not uniform in 1790. After this BCP, a slight revision was published in 1892, and wholesale revisions followed in 1928 and 1979, the version found in the pew today.
Each book reflects theological ideas and themes of the time. The Episcopal Church has always found itself on a continuum of “protestant” and “catholic,” more one or the other at different times and places. For example, the term “minister” is used in the 1790 prayer book, a more “protestant” identification than “priest,” which, along with “Celebrant” or “Officiant” is used in 1979. Other controversies included the subject of kneeling for communion and what vestments were worn. And don’t forget candles! Candles were hugely controversial. I imagine 100 years from now people will look back on the controversies of our day and wonder how we could possibly get so worked up about the things that vex us now.
Under the Books of Common Prayer 1892 and in 1928, Morning Prayer was a more commonly celebrated service of Sunday worship; Holy Eucharist was observed for special occasions or, perhaps, once a month. In 1979, the Episcopal Church returned to the earliest church practice of having Holy Eucharist celebrated each Sunday for worship. Our Current Book of Common Prayer (1979) continues to serve us well. Supplements have been published that permit for new prayers to be used in the framework of the Book of Common Prayer that offer more expansive imagery for God and more inclusive gender identifications. And no prayers today use the word “heathen!”
I warmly invite each of you to come this Saturday. I don’t know how “spiritual” it will be (after all, there is a reason all the changes that have transpired since then have been made) but it sure is interesting.
For more on our history and the builders of Christ Church, see my post from this time last year.
http://ecrier.blogspot.com/2010/07/sharing-our-legacy.html
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
This week, I'm doing something unusual, in that I'm also contributing to the email newsletter for St Peter's, our partner congregation who worship with Anglican liturgy at 12:30 in Luganda, one of the languages of Uganda. I wanted to write to thank them for our joint Pentecost service and the work we've shared this year with Paul Hartge, our Micah Intern, and also to think together for a moment on the meaning of Pentecost itself. Paul's last Sunday will be July 17, and we hope to welcome a new intern in September.
We are not "Pentecostal" churches, but we do celebrate in the light of Pentecost. On that first Pentecost, the diversity of human community was all in one place. We think Waltham is diverse! Jerusalem had more cultures, more languages, more beliefs than we could imagine, all in one place. Even more people than usual were in Jerusalem for Pentecost on that day 2000 years ago-50 days after Passover, they gathered to give thanks to God for Mt Sinai, when God called the people of Israel into covenant. So it wasn't only the ordinary diversity of Jerusalem, it was every last breed of traveler and pilgrim, on top of all the year round-inhabitants of Jerusalem, pagan, Jewish, Christian, all there to give thanks.
All there, and all very seriously divided by substantial issues-the question of circumcision, of women, of dietary laws-all of these topics were incredibly contentious. We argue over different issues today, but they are no less-and probably no more-fervently debated.
But even in the midst of that, such a glorious outpouring of the Spirit gave birth to the church. Pentecost teaches us that Church is more of a verb than anything else. Church happens when each of those different people heard what the other was saying, even though they spoke different languages, even though they came from different places, and probably believed pretty different things. Pentecost teaches us that church isn't a club. It's not about like minded people coming together to improve themselves, or even coming together to improve the world. Pentecost is about a new reality, a reversal of those old divisions and desires for ownership and control that came to be at the tower of Babel, that ancient pre-cursor of division. Pentecost is about our souls and bodies being a home for Jesus Christ.
On Pentecost, each could understand the other; but each understood in his or her own language. The languages-the differences-were preserved. The Gospel is about unity, not homogeneity. We are unified in our love of God, in the grace of the Holy Spirit that we have each received at baptism. But the song of that love is sung with different words in all of our lives. We may hear and embody different songs, but we are all sustained by one God. We here at 750 Main Street in Waltham are particularly blessed that we have evidence of God's riotous diversity right here, right now. With the politics of the Anglican Communion swirling around us, we pray for that unity, but if it is not to be, it is not to be.
One of my favorite prayers in the prayer book shows up in some different places--at the Easter Vigil, but also Good Friday, and the liturgy for ordinations. Our church is a "wonderful and sacred mystery." We don't quite know how it really works, or why. How some relationships begin, how others end. So much comes down to mystery-an invitation to us for humility, I think, to remember we don't have it all figured out. How is it that we in the Anglican Communion can share a space and be so different? What will it be like if the differences prove to be too contentious? What would it be like, really, to truly trust in God?
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquillity the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
Blessings,
Sara+
We are not "Pentecostal" churches, but we do celebrate in the light of Pentecost. On that first Pentecost, the diversity of human community was all in one place. We think Waltham is diverse! Jerusalem had more cultures, more languages, more beliefs than we could imagine, all in one place. Even more people than usual were in Jerusalem for Pentecost on that day 2000 years ago-50 days after Passover, they gathered to give thanks to God for Mt Sinai, when God called the people of Israel into covenant. So it wasn't only the ordinary diversity of Jerusalem, it was every last breed of traveler and pilgrim, on top of all the year round-inhabitants of Jerusalem, pagan, Jewish, Christian, all there to give thanks.
All there, and all very seriously divided by substantial issues-the question of circumcision, of women, of dietary laws-all of these topics were incredibly contentious. We argue over different issues today, but they are no less-and probably no more-fervently debated.
But even in the midst of that, such a glorious outpouring of the Spirit gave birth to the church. Pentecost teaches us that Church is more of a verb than anything else. Church happens when each of those different people heard what the other was saying, even though they spoke different languages, even though they came from different places, and probably believed pretty different things. Pentecost teaches us that church isn't a club. It's not about like minded people coming together to improve themselves, or even coming together to improve the world. Pentecost is about a new reality, a reversal of those old divisions and desires for ownership and control that came to be at the tower of Babel, that ancient pre-cursor of division. Pentecost is about our souls and bodies being a home for Jesus Christ.
On Pentecost, each could understand the other; but each understood in his or her own language. The languages-the differences-were preserved. The Gospel is about unity, not homogeneity. We are unified in our love of God, in the grace of the Holy Spirit that we have each received at baptism. But the song of that love is sung with different words in all of our lives. We may hear and embody different songs, but we are all sustained by one God. We here at 750 Main Street in Waltham are particularly blessed that we have evidence of God's riotous diversity right here, right now. With the politics of the Anglican Communion swirling around us, we pray for that unity, but if it is not to be, it is not to be.
One of my favorite prayers in the prayer book shows up in some different places--at the Easter Vigil, but also Good Friday, and the liturgy for ordinations. Our church is a "wonderful and sacred mystery." We don't quite know how it really works, or why. How some relationships begin, how others end. So much comes down to mystery-an invitation to us for humility, I think, to remember we don't have it all figured out. How is it that we in the Anglican Communion can share a space and be so different? What will it be like if the differences prove to be too contentious? What would it be like, really, to truly trust in God?
O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquillity the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Dear People of Christ Church,
It is good to be back writing in this space and breathing fresh New England air! Having spent a week in Colorado at 8000 feet, I have a new appreciation for all the oxygen that comes at sea level (I'm even appreciating the humidity). I left for Colorado feeling so buoyed by the Holy Spirit we encountered at Pentecost in our service with St Peter's, and was sorry not to be able to talk more with you about it last week. Suffice it to say that God was most definitely present. The loose collection funds (not the checks written to each parish, but the cash in the plate) will be divided between Connect Africa a group that works with AIDS orphans in Uganda, and the Diocesan Jubilee Ministries, which funds local work on the ground in Africa with our partners there.
Coming back from vacation, I was greeted by the very happy news that our CPA (Community Preservation Act) application had cleared one more step in its path to approval. After being OK'ed by the Community Preservation Committee, it then went to the Law Department, then to City Council to be passed to the Long Term Debt Committee, which then sent it back to Council for the final vote. So pray--and tell your city counselor to vote yes (also give your thanks to Shawn Russell and Bill Fowler, whose efforts have kept this going). The CPA funds are a crucial part of our hopes for Christ Church's future stability. If you haven't yet had time to do the survey for our building needs, please do it. Junior Warden Sarah Staley will have print copies this Sunday if you have had difficulty with the web.
Meanwhile, summer brings wonderful opportunities for ministry and community. This coming Sunday and Monday, our summer book group will begin meeting (Sunday after the 9:00 service and Monday at the Kerr home)--read chapters 1 and 2 to start this week. July 5, we begin offering games at the Home Suites Inn, and then later in July we work with B Safe day camp in Boston
with reading, lunch, and our Friday field trip to Houghton's Pond.
There is much to do, but I hope in the midst of it you will be finding some Sabbath time for yourself. Sometimes it's not so much the length of time as it is the depth; you don't need 8 weeks of uninterrupted rest and tropical fun to reconnect with God and your quiet self. Of course, if you're a parent, vacation can feel like more work than work... but I guess each of us gets through that differently!
So take Sabbath--rest with empty hands, nothing to produce, nothing to consume, just receptivity to the gifts God gives. The New Zealand prayer book translates psalm 127 like this: "It is but lost labor that we haste to rise up early, and so late take rest, and eat the bread of anxiety. For those beloved of God are given gifts even while they sleep."
Gifts from God, even as we sleep! That is a pretty compelling invitation to blessing and wonder. So take some Sabbath in rest and relaxation, but also take Sabbath in church; our sacraments and life together feed us all in innumerable ways, and I hope to see you at the table soon.
Blessings,
Sara+
It is good to be back writing in this space and breathing fresh New England air! Having spent a week in Colorado at 8000 feet, I have a new appreciation for all the oxygen that comes at sea level (I'm even appreciating the humidity). I left for Colorado feeling so buoyed by the Holy Spirit we encountered at Pentecost in our service with St Peter's, and was sorry not to be able to talk more with you about it last week. Suffice it to say that God was most definitely present. The loose collection funds (not the checks written to each parish, but the cash in the plate) will be divided between Connect Africa a group that works with AIDS orphans in Uganda, and the Diocesan Jubilee Ministries, which funds local work on the ground in Africa with our partners there.
Coming back from vacation, I was greeted by the very happy news that our CPA (Community Preservation Act) application had cleared one more step in its path to approval. After being OK'ed by the Community Preservation Committee, it then went to the Law Department, then to City Council to be passed to the Long Term Debt Committee, which then sent it back to Council for the final vote. So pray--and tell your city counselor to vote yes (also give your thanks to Shawn Russell and Bill Fowler, whose efforts have kept this going). The CPA funds are a crucial part of our hopes for Christ Church's future stability. If you haven't yet had time to do the survey for our building needs, please do it. Junior Warden Sarah Staley will have print copies this Sunday if you have had difficulty with the web.
Meanwhile, summer brings wonderful opportunities for ministry and community. This coming Sunday and Monday, our summer book group will begin meeting (Sunday after the 9:00 service and Monday at the Kerr home)--read chapters 1 and 2 to start this week. July 5, we begin offering games at the Home Suites Inn, and then later in July we work with B Safe day camp in Boston
with reading, lunch, and our Friday field trip to Houghton's Pond.
There is much to do, but I hope in the midst of it you will be finding some Sabbath time for yourself. Sometimes it's not so much the length of time as it is the depth; you don't need 8 weeks of uninterrupted rest and tropical fun to reconnect with God and your quiet self. Of course, if you're a parent, vacation can feel like more work than work... but I guess each of us gets through that differently!
So take Sabbath--rest with empty hands, nothing to produce, nothing to consume, just receptivity to the gifts God gives. The New Zealand prayer book translates psalm 127 like this: "It is but lost labor that we haste to rise up early, and so late take rest, and eat the bread of anxiety. For those beloved of God are given gifts even while they sleep."
Gifts from God, even as we sleep! That is a pretty compelling invitation to blessing and wonder. So take some Sabbath in rest and relaxation, but also take Sabbath in church; our sacraments and life together feed us all in innumerable ways, and I hope to see you at the table soon.
Blessings,
Sara+
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tattoos on the heart
Dear People of Christ Church,
This morning, I've been trolling the internet for quotes to promote our summer book group-we're reading: Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion by Gregory Boyle, a Jesuit priest who works with gangs in LA. The motto of Homeboy Industries, the group he founded, is "Nothing stops a bullet like a job."
I've wanted to read it since I heard the author on the NPR show Fresh Air, a whole year ago. It came to mind again when I saw an online slideshow about the California prison crisis, brought to light during recent Supreme Court hearings about the overcrowding there. The pictures--the whole situation--is an invitation to complete hopelessness. 60-70 percent inmates released from prison in California return, one of the highest rates in the country. It's hard to compare figures from different studies, but one researcher found that the rate in Massachusetts was just a little more than half that: 39%.
So I spent the morning researching this priest-Gregory Boyle-and his work in LA. Looking for stories of redemption and hope, thinking I'd find the thing that would make it OK--a story about those 30 percent who don't go back to jail. The thing is, every article I read has a version of the same sentence: in X years, Father Boyle has done the funerals of X current and former gang members. And the number kept increasing-175, 200, 225. It's a vivid reminder of how this will not be a pleasant book study about inspiring work done far away. This will not be a time to gather together, maybe to send $50 when we're done to help support the project. Hardly enough.
At its heart, this is a spiritual and theological problem as well as a social one. You can only go so far with training and aid programs. Even striving for just and fair laws that both protect society and provide the opportunity to redirect the lives of criminals will still not make us into a peaceful society without violence or hatred.
The thing is, in some ways the manifestation of the problem I was reacting to--the increasing number of funerals--is also the solution. Seeing that number of Rev. Gregory Boyle's funerals swell up and up was a witness to the fact that someone is counting. There is no death that is insignificant, no one who is beyond remembrance. This is the witness of all the contemporary saints-Paul Farmer working in Haiti and Rwanda, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, India. People like them remind us to see people not as "the poor" or "the homeless" but as individual children beloved by their Creator. It is tragic when someone is murdered, robbed of their potential-the world is robbed as surely as they themselves are. Gregory Boyle writes,
The first kid I buried was an eighteen-year-old identical twin. Even the family had a hard time distinguishing these two brothers from each other. At the funeral, Vicente peered into the casket of his brother, Danny. They were both wearing identical clothes. It was as if someone had slapped a mirror down and Vicente was staring at his own reflection. Because this was my first funeral of this kind, the snapshot of a young man peering at his own mirror image has stayed with me all these years, as a metaphor for gang violence in all its self-destruction.
The challenge for us as people of faith is to see ourselves in Danny. To see our children lying on the street. To witness and pray at all the deaths, and to work constructively for all the lives. Maybe I will send that $50 to Gregory Boyle after all. It's true that it's not enough-but it is something.
Blessings,
Sara+
This morning, I've been trolling the internet for quotes to promote our summer book group-we're reading: Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion by Gregory Boyle, a Jesuit priest who works with gangs in LA. The motto of Homeboy Industries, the group he founded, is "Nothing stops a bullet like a job."
I've wanted to read it since I heard the author on the NPR show Fresh Air, a whole year ago. It came to mind again when I saw an online slideshow about the California prison crisis, brought to light during recent Supreme Court hearings about the overcrowding there. The pictures--the whole situation--is an invitation to complete hopelessness. 60-70 percent inmates released from prison in California return, one of the highest rates in the country. It's hard to compare figures from different studies, but one researcher found that the rate in Massachusetts was just a little more than half that: 39%.
So I spent the morning researching this priest-Gregory Boyle-and his work in LA. Looking for stories of redemption and hope, thinking I'd find the thing that would make it OK--a story about those 30 percent who don't go back to jail. The thing is, every article I read has a version of the same sentence: in X years, Father Boyle has done the funerals of X current and former gang members. And the number kept increasing-175, 200, 225. It's a vivid reminder of how this will not be a pleasant book study about inspiring work done far away. This will not be a time to gather together, maybe to send $50 when we're done to help support the project. Hardly enough.
At its heart, this is a spiritual and theological problem as well as a social one. You can only go so far with training and aid programs. Even striving for just and fair laws that both protect society and provide the opportunity to redirect the lives of criminals will still not make us into a peaceful society without violence or hatred.
The thing is, in some ways the manifestation of the problem I was reacting to--the increasing number of funerals--is also the solution. Seeing that number of Rev. Gregory Boyle's funerals swell up and up was a witness to the fact that someone is counting. There is no death that is insignificant, no one who is beyond remembrance. This is the witness of all the contemporary saints-Paul Farmer working in Haiti and Rwanda, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, India. People like them remind us to see people not as "the poor" or "the homeless" but as individual children beloved by their Creator. It is tragic when someone is murdered, robbed of their potential-the world is robbed as surely as they themselves are. Gregory Boyle writes,
The first kid I buried was an eighteen-year-old identical twin. Even the family had a hard time distinguishing these two brothers from each other. At the funeral, Vicente peered into the casket of his brother, Danny. They were both wearing identical clothes. It was as if someone had slapped a mirror down and Vicente was staring at his own reflection. Because this was my first funeral of this kind, the snapshot of a young man peering at his own mirror image has stayed with me all these years, as a metaphor for gang violence in all its self-destruction.
The challenge for us as people of faith is to see ourselves in Danny. To see our children lying on the street. To witness and pray at all the deaths, and to work constructively for all the lives. Maybe I will send that $50 to Gregory Boyle after all. It's true that it's not enough-but it is something.
Blessings,
Sara+
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