December 29, 2021

We are always the 'stable' into which the Christ is born anew. – Richard Rohr, quoted by Prior Aelred in the Abbey Letter of St. Gregory's Abbey, number 288, Christmas 2021

The Episcopal monks of St. Gregory's Abbey, located in Three Rivers, MI, send out a little newsletter about once a quarter giving updates on what they're doing, what they've read, and some meditations here and there. In his meditation on Christmas, compassion, and love, Prior Aelred mentioned the above sentence from Richard Rohr.

Jesus Christ the Son of God was born of a woman in a stable (or barn, or cave, or outbuilding) because there was no room for the family in the main house (inn). The eternal, omnipotent God, creator of all that is, seen and unseen, humbled himself to become incarnate of the virgin Mary and made man. This person Jesus, whom we refer to as King of kings and Lord of lords, was born not in a castle, not in a place of power, nor in the city of prophets and kings, but in a small town, in a back room where animals were kept, and laid in a feeding trough.

There are people who have prayed, and will pray, that Jesus come into their lives. As Episcopalians we invite Christ into our lives every Sunday by our participation in the liturgy of Holy Eucharist and with our consuming of the bread and wine become his Body and Blood. I would imagine there are many ways that Christ is invited to dwell within us, and in each way we are the stable into which Christ is born anew.

In one sense this is a good thing – we are constantly asking Christ into our lives, we are constantly working to be more Christ-like. As our baptismal covenant says in part, we strive to continue in the apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers.

But the above sentence also got me thinking . . . Jesus Christ was born in a back room or outbuilding or cave or stable because the inn, the main building, had no room. Is the Christ born in us anew in our stable because we have no room in our main building? Do we relegate Jesus Christ to the backrooms or outbuildings of our lives because we are too full of other things?

“Away in a manger” is a lovely Christmas hymn, but how would our lives look if we made space for the Christ to be born anew in our primary life building rather than relegating him to our personal stables?

Merry Christmas,

December 22, 2021

Where is God in this? How can I find grace in even the worst of circumstances? – From the Fourth Wednesday of Advent meditation, I Witness, by the Rev. Kate Moorhead.

This has been a rough week.

On Sunday I took Communion to a person on hospice. She was alert but due to a stroke at some point in her life it was extremely difficult to communicate with her. On Sunday afternoon my normal discussion group for the above book was sabotaged by a computer that decided to not recognize any internet connections, thereby making it impossible to hold that discussion; and I was ultimately unsuccessful in getting the group up and running on my phone. Later that evening I was informed that one of our parishioners suffered a major heart attack and the prognosis is not good. The office is abuzz with activity as we finalize bulletins, try to wrap up pledge/budget issues, and whatever other end of year business needs to be worked on. I fielded two calls from people looking for shelter due to being evicted. Soundings articles and reports were due yesterday. There's a Vestry meeting tonight.

It has been, and continues to be, a rough week.

In reflecting on the events of this week so far, the meditation questions for today are particularly apt: Where is God in this? How can I find grace in even the worst of circumstances?

There was grace in that simple Communion service with an uncommunicative person. Even though we couldn't connect through speech, there was a throaty, raspy cadence as I recited the Lord's Prayer, and there was a sense of understanding as I placed a small, wine-dipped host on her tongue. God was present.

When my computer was being difficult and I was unable to get the Zoom meeting going for our weekly discussion, there didn't seem to be much grace around. But when I came into the office on Monday and opened up my e-mail, I found several messages from participants who were concerned that I was sick, having another bout of vertigo, or that some other unfortunate event had befallen me. Grace was in their concern for my well-being.

When I was informed of a parishioner's heart attack, hospitalization, and poor prognosis, I'm sure his wife was asking, “Where's God?” But even in that awful event, grace could be found in the support she is receiving from any number of people.

Things are not always easy and sometimes things can be extremely difficult – especially when they happen in the midst of a holiday that's touted as “the most wonderful time of the year.” But in those difficult times, or in the worst of circumstances, if you are able, take a step back, slow down, and ask yourself, “How can I find grace in the midst of this?” It may not make things any easier, but it will help remind you that, even in the worst of circumstances, God is with you.

In whatever you are doing, or whatever you are going through this week, may you have a blessed Christmas.

December 15, 2021

Bear fruits worthy of repentance – Luke 3:8

In the gospel from this past Sunday, John speaks to the crowd “with many exhortations” proclaiming the good news. He also calls the crowd a brood of vipers, which I said indicated that they were the offspring of corrupt systems and people that preyed upon those living on the margins, or the less fortunate, or others not of the right race, gender, or religion. We also are a brood of vipers because we are the offspring of corrupt systems which relied on stolen land and stolen labor to build this country.

But John makes the point that, even though the crowd is a brood of vipers, it doesn't mean that they, or we, are destined to become vipers. John points out that there is still time to change. Our past sins don't have to define who we are, but it is necessary to repent of those past sins whether or not we actually participated in them, because we still benefit from them. John reminds us that there is still time to repent, still time to turn to the Lord, still time to repair the damage done to bring good news and joy to the world.

He told the crowd to bear fruits worthy of repentance. If you have two coats, share with those who have none. Treat everyone equitably. Don't use unfair methods when dealing with others. If we do these things, and the things of Jesus, then our words and actions will promote the good news of the kingdom of God and we will be that much closer to seeing it on earth as it is in heaven.

All of these things are good fruit, things that build up the kingdom of God on the outside. But it is just as important to think about those things which build up the kingdom of God on the inside. While John didn't address this, Paul did. In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, “I fear that there may perhaps be quarreling, jealousy, anger, selfishness, slander, gossip, conceit, and disorder.”

These things Paul wrote about are real life examples of “what you sow is what you reap.” If we sow seeds of dissension, quarreling, slander, gossip, and the like, these things will grow up to choke off the good news of the kingdom; and no matter how good we look on the outside, we will surely be rotten on the inside – dried up, withered, decayed, and easily toppled.

The counter to the above is to sow another kind of seed – the seeds of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These are seeds which can be sown on the outside, but it is just as important to sow them on the inside. In dealing with our fellow Christians and fellow parishioners, let us work to sow the seeds of the Spirit which will strengthen us and lead us to produce good fruit.

We all have the ability to sow any number of seeds. We all have the ability to sow seeds of two kingdoms – the kingdom of Satan or the kingdom of God. The problem is that sowing the seeds of Satan is easy. It's easy to quarrel, to become jealous or angry, to be selfish and conceited, or to slander and gossip. It takes a little more work to spread love and joy, to work for peace, to have patience, to be kind and generous, to remain faithful and gentle, and to maintain self-control.

As we begin another year, let us resolve to sow seeds worthy of the kingdom of God, bearing good fruit, and living the good news in thought, word, and deed.

Blessings,

December 8, 2021

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. -- Luke 3:1-2

This was the opening sentence to our gospel this past Sunday. Every Monday morning I meet with a few other clergy in the area to discuss the upcoming readings (primarily the gospel), and this gospel was our primary point of discussion.

I don't know how many times over the years I've heard or read this passage, but I have always seen it as a time stamp. Out of the four Evangelists, Luke was the historian. He opens his version of the gospel by writing, “Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us . . .” So it makes perfect sense, in a time when records were kept based on what year of whose reign, to hear Luke the historian state that John's ministry began “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea . . .”

One of the beauties of studying scripture with other people is hearing different insights you may not have heard before. One of my colleagues wondered if these two verses were simply a time stamp, and I asked him what he meant by that.

“Look at the names . . . the emperor, the governor, two rulers, and two high priests. Powerful people. And yet, the word of God came to JOHN in the wilderness.”

This would be like us today saying, “In the second year of Joe Biden's presidency, when Lawrence was governor of Maryland, and Emily was mayor of Hagerstown, during the episcopate of Eugene, and Michael was presiding bishop, the word of God came to Bob.”

Maybe these two verses are not simply a time stamp. Maybe these two verses are to remind us that the word of God doesn't necessarily come to those in power and those with authority, but that the word of God comes to the least expected. Maybe this is a reminder that the word of God is not tied up with the powers and principalities of this world, but that the word of God is to be found elsewhere.

That's not to say that powerful people are immune to hearing the word of God. It's not to say that ecclesiastical authorities are unable to hear the word of God. But it does point out that the word of God comes to unexpected people in unexpected places. More importantly, these two verses reiterate that the power of God is not dependent on (and in most cases is utterly opposed to) the powers of the world.

As we move through the wilderness of Advent and prepare for the coming of the Messiah, how are you hearing the word of God? As we move through the wilderness of Advent and prepare for the coming of the Messiah, how are you proclaiming the coming of the good news to those around you?

Because in the end, God does not rely on emperors, rulers, and others who wield earthly power; God relies on people like you and me to proclaim that the kingdom of God has come near.

Blessings,

December 1, 2021

Can we ever know what God has in store for us? -- I Witness, First Wednesday in Advent meditation

In the Advent discussion group which began this past Sunday, we did some looking back and looking forward. We started with the meditation for the First Sunday of Advent and talked about the process of waiting and discernment. Not all waiting is discernment, but all discernment contains a lot of waiting.

We talked about the process of waiting for a child that Zechariah and Elizabeth had been subjected to over the years before the arrival of John. We talked about times we had to wait and times we were discerning which way we might go in our own lives as we waited to figure things out.

In today's meditation, the author writes about Elizabeth that “she has no idea God has a plan.” That is immediately followed by the opening sentence of today's reflection.

I will confess that I get a little dubious when things happen and there is a response along the lines of, “It's okay . . . God has a plan and everything happens for a reason.” Yes, God does indeed have a plan, and we say as much in the Catechism. But not everything happens for a reason. Some things are simply accidents and some things are evil. God may work through various accidents and acts of evil, but to say those accidents and evil acts are the result of God's plan implies that God is pulling all the strings in our lives and we have no free will on which to act. But I digress . . .

As Christians, we believe that God's plan included the birth of Jesus, which also included the birth of John ahead of him to proclaim his arrival – to be that voice crying in the wilderness. And because of that, Zechariah and Elizabeth had to wait, unbeknownst to them, until the right time.

How would they have reacted if Gabriel had appeared to Zechariah when he was a newlywed and told he would have a son, but only after he was “an old man and his wife getting on in years?” How would I have reacted if, when discerning my own call, God had told me that I would have to sit with a family whose father and just been killed by a drunk driver, or be present with a new father whose baby died of SIDS? How would you have reacted if God had told you about a significant event in your life years ahead of time?

It may just be that the reason God's plan seems so slow in coming isn't because God is slow, but that God is waiting for us to grow enough to handle what we will be asked to do.

This Advent season, may you see this time of preparation and waiting not only as a time of preparation and waiting for the coming of the Messiah, but as a time of giving thanks for when you had to wait, only to learn that God was using that time to prepare you for what God had in store for you.

Blessings,

November 24, 2021

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Tomorrow is the day where, for those of us of a particular socio-economic class, we will gather with family, or friends, or both, and eat way too much. Maybe we'll watch a football game or two. Maybe we'll play in our own backyard version of a Turkey Bowl, or take part in a Turkey Trot. Maybe we'll spend time handing out meals to those less fortunate than ourselves.

Thanksgiving can be complicated. It can bring family tensions into play, but it can also bring a sense of unity. Who is bringing what always seems to be a topic of debate, and the seating chart can be an interesting point of conversation (just when is someone allowed to graduate from the kids' table to the adult table?). I fondly remember Thanksgivings in Montana when we would gather with some seminary friends to spend together, having our unity bound up in our friendship.

Add to all of this is that this year will be the first time back celebrating Thanksgiving with people after most of us refrained from participating in the holiday festivities last year, so there may be extra pressure on us to “get it right.” Or, maybe, it will be much more laid back and enjoyable as we are just thankful for being able to gather again.

There are a lot of layers to Thanksgiving and it's probably best to not try and examine all of them at once. So whether you want to enjoy the day alone, whether you are gathering with family, whether you are gathering with friends, whether you are cooking a ham, whether you are cooking a turkey, whether you order your meal from Bob Evans, whether your meal includes pickled eggs, or whether it includes yam casserole, I hope this year's Thanksgiving gathering helps to bring joy into the lives of you and those whom you love.

As a remembrance that Thanksgiving is complicated in many ways, here's an article about the holiday itself, its origins, what we got wrong, and what we can get right:

https://www.capecodtimes.com/in-depth/news/2020/11/19/plymouth-400-mayflower-first-thanksgiving-pilgrims-wampanoag-massasoit/6283891002/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=Social&utm_campaign=gh-capecodtimes-main&fbclid=IwAR3LmiLZamC_WqcJFt5c7ARh0Rg-ooaP629X-YzzeG2y5-x9e-FvkiLGk4U

No matter how you choose to celebrate, or not, may you always remember that you are a beloved child of God and that God is thankful for your very presence; and know that I am thankful for having you as part of my life with Saint John's.

Blessings,

November 17, 2021

COVID-19 has been many things over the past 21 months or so, but it has probably never been referred to as a blessing. It may not have been a blessing, but it did cause us to learn, adjust, and adapt at a different pace than before – which may or may not be a good thing depending on your point of view.

I remember hearing stories of people learning to reconnect with their families. I heard stories of people learning to bake. I heard stories of people learning new skills and trying new things. Those were the good stories that we all craved to hear about during months of lock-downs and worries.

Now that things are beginning to loosen up, now that vaccinations are becoming more common and people are getting their booster shots, now that people are feeling more safe and comfortable (despite our infection numbers telling a different story), it seems people are eager to get “back to normal.” It seems people are eager to put this chapter behind them and move on. But we will never “get back to normal,” because this is our normal. And we will never put this chapter behind us because too much of it will move forward with us.

As we move forward, I think it's worth asking ourselves, “What was the good during the worst of the pandemic that we can take with us?” Because it does seem that, in our rush to get back to normal, we are leaving behind some practices that we could stand to take with us.

Maybe you began a family game night, but now that things are back to normal that has been left behind. Maybe you developed a new prayer practice, but now that things are back to normal you find you don't have the time. Maybe it was baking bread on Saturday, but now that things are back to normal it's just easier to buy a loaf from the store. Or maybe it was just having the time to slow down, but now that things are back to normal you find you can't even do that.

In the midst of tragedy or difficult times or even global pandemics I think we can always find something good to appreciate. The trick is to figure out how to carry those good things forward so that we don't get back to what was normal but to help create a new normal that is more conducive to our good health – mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

And it just might be that those good things you found during difficult times are what will anchor you and keep you from being pulled into ever more chaotic waters.

Blessings,

November 10, 2021

As we get strength, but one extended act of faith (so to call it) influences us all through the day, and our whole day is but one act of obedience also. – from a sermon entitled, “The Spiritual Mind,” John Henry Newman

In preaching about how we might attain a deeper spirituality, or how we might draw closer to God, Newman made the above statement. As I thought about it, I was reminded of St. Paul when he referenced his faith as if he were running a race (2 Tim. 4:7). It might be appropriate here to compare our lives of faith and spirituality to that of a physical endeavor – swimming, running, walking, cycling, climbing, etc., or maybe to that of playing an instrument.

Very few of us, if any, have the ability to fall out of bed on a Saturday morning and run a marathon. Likewise none of us have the ability to jump in a pool and swim 100 meters, or decide to summit Mt. Everest. These things take training. We need to train our bodies to swim or run or whatever a little at a time. Our muscles need to be strengthened and our lung capacity needs to develop. We need to get to a place where we willingly put one foot in front of the other when others tell us to sit down and relax.

Our faith and spirituality can benefit from the same process. We don't suddenly decide to spend an hour each day on our knees in prayer. Instead, we begin with something we can accomplish. We train. Maybe we begin with five minutes in silent prayer at the beginning of the day. Maybe we spend a few minutes of our lunch hour in prayer. Maybe we begin by closing out our day praying Compline (p. 127 of the BCP if you were wondering). As we develop that, we “get strength” so that those small, self-contained periods of prayer or acts of faith develop to become one extended act of faith.

And then, when we have seen that develop over time, we hopefully come to place where prayer and acts of faith are no longer reserved for specific times and places, but they infuse our whole day so that each day becomes an act of obedience to God; which then, slowly but surely, molds our whole life into a life of obedience, faith, and prayer.

Just as we practice to swim farther, run longer, climb higher, just as we practice to sing clearer and play more smoothly, we should also practice our faith so that it isn't relegated to convenient times or places, but so that it may so infuse our daily lives in a way that draws us more closely to the Lord.

Blessings,

November 3, 2021

My floppy Orioles hat has a story – Dcn. Sue

This past Sunday was declared “Hat Sunday” by the Parish Life Commission and people were encouraged to wear their favorite hat to church that day. It was a fun event that brought smiles to those who opted to wear their hats and those who didn't.

Before service Dcn. Sue told me she had brought her floppy O's hat because it was her favorite and it had a story. “Of course it does,” I said, “because all good hats have a story.”

If you have been in my office you will probably notice two things: First, I have a large collection of crosses above the fireplace, and second, I have a large hat collection scattered around the office. All of those hats have stories behind them. Some stories are better than others (like the story behind the softball helmet painted with black & white stripes). Some stories are more memorable than others (like the hat from Carmel's Goosetown Mafia). Some stories I can barely remember (like the hat from Oklahoma and trying to remember if I was ever even in Oklahoma). But they all have stories and they all represent a piece of my overall larger story.

This past Monday was All Saints' Day, the day the Church commemorates those people of the faith who had died, and especially those who “had crowned their profession of faith with heroic deaths,” or people of the faith who lived exemplary lives. Yesterday was All Souls' Day/All Faithful Departed, an extension of All Saints, when the Church remembers the vast body of faithful departed known only to God, family, and friends. These people, whether Saints of the wider church or any number of faithful departed known only to family and friends, all have stories to tell; and by virtue of being part of the Church, they all represent a piece of our overall larger stories as faithful members of the body of Christ.

This coming Sunday we will be celebrating/commemorating All Saints'/Souls' Day as we transfer the appropriate lessons, read the necrology of those who have died this past year, and remember all those who have previously died. Those people all had/have stories to tell; and, to some extent, they all represent a piece of our overall larger story.

As part of the body of Christ we all have stories to tell. As part of the specific branch of the family tree known as Saint John's, we all have stories to tell. Some of those stories are better than others. Some stories are more memorable than others. Some stories we might barely remember. But we all have stories about the larger body of Christ; we all have stories about this specific place. And all of those stories represent a piece of our overall story.

This is the time of year when we remember the stories of those who have gone before us, and that is good and appropriate to do so. But let us also remember to share our own stories of our faith and this place with those who need to hear stories of hope, stories of tears, stories of joy, stories of resurrection, stories of faith. Because when all is said and done, it is our stories that enable us to connect with others.

Blessings,

October 27, 2021

A few weeks ago I wrote a Wednesday Word entitled, “Same Job, Different Job,” in which I talked briefly about working as a clock operator instead of being on the field during this football season. And the other day I read a tweet that basically said, “If you're on vacation, make time to go to church.”

At first it may seem like these two things have nothing in common; I mean, what could being a clock operator have to do with attending worship service while on vacation? As I'm fond of saying, “There's a lot of similarities between church and football,” and this is no different.

I have spent my officiating career on the field. I've worked every position except Umpire (those guys get run over, so I don't go there). Every position has a different point of view from the others. For instance, when I was moved to Back Judge, I quickly learned that everyone was running AT me instead of away from me. Because of that, I needed to learn how to move and position myself much differently than when working as a Referee or Line Judge. But I was still on the field.

Working as a clock operator this year has given me a totally different perspective. I have a full, overhead view of the game. I see things develop differently. I don't always see what I'm supposed to see, but then again, I'm not sure I'm supposed to see anything in particular, other than the other officials, that is. I'm a part of the crew, but I'm not part of the crew. I'm still an official, but I've been banished (so to speak) to the press box. What I've learned (or rather, what has confirmed my training) is that on-field signals are meant for the people not on the field. If an official doesn't realize this, his/her signals could get missed by the people for whom they are intended.

Attending church during our vacation, even though vacation season is over, is sort of similar. We are still part of the same team (Christian in general, Episcopalian specifically), but we are not part of that particular team (whatever church you visit). Having attended our own church for a long time, we see things differently in a new place. We have a different view of how things are done. We can pick up on different aspects of the worship experience that we may have missed in our own parish, or that the people of a different parish might miss because of its familiarity.

Things to pay attention to when visiting another church can include: Do announcements assume everyone present knows what you're talking about (Meeting at the “old Bob Evans” may not mean anything to someone who just moved to town); if there isn't a clear point of entry, is there appropriate signage directing you to the right door; are you welcomed upon entry; do others seek you out after service; are the bathrooms clean; are there indicators of outreach as well as inreach. There are probably many other things to notice that I didn't think of or don't have room to list.

The point to all this is that when we visit a church, or when one becomes a clock operator, you see things that you probably haven't seen or noticed before. We might gain a new perspective. This information can be relayed to the appropriate people in which a change may or may not be made.

I agreed to be a clock operator this year because I wanted to stay connected to my officiating group. Attending church when we are away on vacation keeps us connected to our faith.

In both instances we might find something that makes our preferred space better.

Blessings,

October 20, 2021

Make a joyful noise – Psalms 66, 95, 98, and 100

In looking up the above phrase I was actually surprised to see how few times it appears in scripture. For as often as that phrase gets used, I assumed it was more prevalent than it actually is.

Putting that aside, though, I have some good news: it is time once again for us to make a joyful noise to the Lord.

I received an email from the diocese stating that, due to “continued circumstantial evidence point[ing] to masked singing being lower risk when when a large percentage of the attendees are vaccinated,” congregational singing would be allowed once again with some cautious caveats.

First, the majority of people must be vaccinated. Based on the survey from several months ago asking about vaccination status, as well as conversations I've had with people, I am comfortable in saying that the vaccination rate at Saint John's is 90 percent or greater. This is good news that has a positive effect within our congregation and, hopefully, within our other social circles outside of the church.

Second, it is highly recommended that windows remain open to assist with airflow. As we enter the colder months this could become an issue, but maybe we could find a happy medium that allows for airflow without forcing everyone to wear mittens and earmuffs.

Third, continued physical distancing is encouraged. We do not need to return to the former days of taking reservations in order to keep Sunday attendance within accepted limits, but we do need to remember this and pay attention to where we sit. Individuals may want to consider sitting at opposite ends of a single pew. Couples may want to consider staggering the seating (so don't sit directly behind someone at the center aisle, but slide over to the outside aisle). Families may want to think about sitting in a back pew (I know . . . I know) to allow others to consider how they might effectively physically distance. And don't forget, we also have several pews in the front that are still marked off/reserved for extra spacing.

Finally, please remember that we need to continue to be vigilant about COVID and to maintain safe practices (wearing masks in public places, limiting where we go, get vaccinated if you haven't done so yet, get your booster shot when it becomes available, etc.). Masks and contact tracing are still required within Saint John's. The last chart I looked at showed Washington County with the third highest case rate and second highest positivity rate in the state. I know that we are all COVID-weary, tired of wearing masks, tired in general, but, as we begin to make small strides, we can't afford to relax now.

All of that said, however . . . we are once again allowed to make a joyful noise together, as one body, involving all who want to sing! So please join me as we once again proclaim, “Holy, holy, holy Lord!” together, and as we sing our praises to the Lord most high.

I look forward to hearing you this Sunday,

October 13, 2021

Worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness – Ps. 96:9

As with most people, I was struck by the beauty of Saint John's the very first time I saw it. One doesn't need to be a particularly religious person to appreciate the beauty of the church or (more specifically) the high altar and reredos, but I think it helps. It helps because, as religious people, we recognize that there are “thin places,” places where the presence of God is palpable. Saint John's is one of those places.

It's not just the high altar and reredos that say, “Within this place is the beauty of holiness” although those certainly grab your attention, It's also the way the morning sun shines through the Resurrection window causing the center aisle to shimmer like a glassy sea. It's the way the evening sun shines through the windows of the south transept causing light to appear like tongues of fire on the rogation altar, on the pulpit wall, and in the choir. It's the story of Christ's birth as found in the windows of the south transept. It's the story of Christ's life in the windows of the nave as taken from the Gospel of John. It's the depiction of his ascension in the window of the north transept. It's the starry expanse in the tower entrance. It's the presence of the archangels Michael, Uriel, and Raphael surrounding the high altar. It's knowing that we worship with angels, archangels, saints above, saints below, and all the company of heaven. All of these things remind us that we worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.

But the beauty of holiness is not, and should not be, only the physical, holy space of the building.

John Henry Newman (high churchman and priest in the Church of England, leader of the Oxford Movement, and eventual convert to Roman Catholicism) preached a sermon entitled, “Holiness Necessary for Future Blessedness,” in which he argues that personal holiness is necessary for a right relationship with God.

“The more frequent are our prayers, the more humble, patient, and religious are our daily deeds, these holy works will be the means of making our hearts holy, and of preparing us for the future presence of God.”

We also have the ability to reflect the beauty of holiness in our lives. Our habits, our language, our attitudes, and our priorities can all reflect a life of holiness. All of these things take work and practice. As Newman points out, being contented with a measure of religion or partial holiness takes no real effort at all and will not lead us to holiness. If we want to reflect holiness, we must work to be holy.

So may we all strive first for the kingdom of God. May we strive to follow the narrow path. May we see holiness as a life-long goal of worshiping God in thought, word, and deed. And may we then intentionally worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness – both in the beauty of the Lord's house and in the beauty of a holy self.

Blessings,

October 6, 2021

“The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven.”

Those are the words of administration as (usually) a priest or (sometimes) other person places a consecrated wafer or piece of bread into the hands of those coming forward to receive Communion. For Episcopalians/Anglicans, Catholics, Orthodox, and some others, receiving Communion is probably the pinnacle of our worship. Everything that happens before Holy Communion points to that part of the liturgy, and almost immediately after receiving that blessed Sacrament we give thanks for being fed with holy food and ask for strength to go forth and do the work God has given us to do.

As we all know, COVID has played havoc with our worship and our ability to receive Holy Communion. There was a time when we were shut down and only a minimal number of people were allowed in the building as we broadcast worship services online. In the very beginning, those services were Morning Prayer. Eventually that gave way to Holy Eucharist, which eventually gave way to allowing people back in the building in limited numbers to worship and receive Communion.

And now, while masks and contact tracing are still required, and physical distancing is highly recommended, we have opened up to allowing more people into the building. Thankfully most of you have been vaccinated. But since we are still experiencing high COVID numbers due partially to a high rate of unvaccinated people in Washington County, as well as Fulton and Franklin counties in PA, and Berkeley County in WV, we continue to take precautions with how we meet and worship here at Saint John's.

We are all in different places with our own comfort levels. Some of you feel very comfortable with the precautions we have implemented and come worship together on Sunday. Others are less comfortable with being in larger groups and prefer to remain at home, worshiping with the rest of the body through our live feed. Neither of those are wrong, as they are based on personal health choices.

All that said, today's Wednesday Word is primarily geared toward those of you who are choosing to remain at home for the time being.

If you have been missing being fed with the Body of Christ, I want to remind you that you can call the church office, or myself for that matter, and ask that either the priest or a Eucharistic Visitor bring Holy Communion to your home. All people who make these home visits have been vaccinated, and all would be happy to share this heavenly meal with you.

We, as the church, are part of the body of Christ, each with our own particular gifts that we offer to God, the Church, and the wider community. But, as our physical bodies need nourishment, our spiritual bodies also need nourishment. I invite and encourage those of you who have not received the Sacrament of Holy Communion due to COVID separation to contact me and schedule a time when we can get together for a service of Holy Communion and where you once again may be fed with the Body of Christ and the Bread of Heaven.

Blessings,

Todd+

September 29, 2021

“[I]t differs from ours not as white from black but as a perfect circle from a child's attempt to draw a wheel.” C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain, p. 30

The thrust of this book has to do with, “If God is good, why is there pain?” That seems to be one of the eternal questions of faith, along with, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” In this short book, Lewis breaks down a variety of positions, moving from the omnipotence of God through human wickedness and eventually to heaven.

In the chapter, “Divine Goodness,” he discusses how the goodness of God is different from the goodness of man, as well as the total “otherness” of God. In other words, if God is so totally “other” from us, can it be possible that what we consider good God considers evil, and vice versa?

But as he breaks down the goodness of God, he comes to a point where he basically says that God is not so much “other” from us, but that God is complete; and he uses the above example.

We were created in the image of God. We all carry a spark of the imago dei, that we have innate qualities which allow God to be manifest in and through us. Like parents are something other than their children, the children sill carry a piece of their parents within them. So, yes, God is other, but not alien.

Among other things, this has implications for acts of repentance. In a number of places in Scripture we are asked to repent and return to the Lord. If we believe that God is something wholly other and different from ourselves, how shall we repent and return to that which is wholly other, different, and unobtainable? But if we believe that we were created in the image of God, that we each have the spark of the divine within us, then we have some understanding of what it is to which we are returning.

If we believe the latter, might we see ourselves as a child's attempt to draw a wheel – rough and uneven, maybe a little flat on the bottom? Repentance becomes an act where we erase some of those rough spots, smoothing them out, making them more circular.

This just doesn't apply to acts of repentance, but could also apply to our entire lives. Can we work to change/modify/perfect our poorly shaped, self-drawn circles in such a way that we are erasing our rough spots in order to become more godly-shaped circles?

This is really how we differ from God: we are shaped in the divine image, but we are not perfect; but hopefully we are willing to work at smoothing out our imperfections.

Blessings,

September 22, 2021

“After this I looked, and there in heaven a door stood open!” – Rev. 4:1

Revelation (official name: The Revelation of Jesus Christ to John, but NOT Revelations) is a strange, weird, wonderful, mysterious, confusing, and controversial book that has no easy or clear interpretations. It was the last book to be accepted into the Christian canon and cited as authoritative by Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian, and Irenaeus. But it also has a disputed history as Christians have attempted to use it as a road map to the future, trying to pin down specific dates and times in predicting the “End Time,” as was done in the 2^nd Century by a Christian leader named Montanus and up through today by people such as Tim LaHaye, John Hagee, and other so-called “prophecy experts.”

But within this book are two things that stand out (probably more, but I want to keep this short): The first is a vision of comfort. Revelation was written to early Christians who were living under the boot of Roman oppression. It is basically saying, “Look, I know how you are suffering, but there will be a time when the oppressive, life-taking empires of the world will give way to the freeing, life-giving rule of God.” With all that the world throws at us, with our struggles against “the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness” (Eph. 6:12), Revelation puts forth the idea that Jesus wins. Early on in Revelation we hear that Jesus has conquered. There may be a battle against the forces of evil, but the outcome has already been decided – the love of God wins.

The second is a vision of heavenly worship. Before the four horsemen of the apocalypse, before earthquakes, falling stars, and terror, in the midst of persecutions, wars, and lakes of fire, worship happens. Images of a heavenly throne surrounded by the rainbow of peace from Genesis, of all creatures singing, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God almighty,” of prayer and incense, of silence before God, and of people gathering in the holy temple are prominent.

This is important for us to remember: that in the midst of any number of problems and conflicts, the people of God worship. We worship the One who was and is and is to come. We worship the Lamb who is worthy to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing. We worship with angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven. We worship with saints above and saints below.

The Church can and does do many of the same things any other social organization does, but the one thing the Church does that no other social organization does is worship. In the midst of our struggles, let us worship. In the midst of our conflicts, let us worship. In the midst of environmental crises, let us worship. In our joys and in our sorrows, let us worship. It is through our worship that the door to heaven stands open. It is in our worship where God comes to dwell with mortals in the beauty of holiness. It is in our worship where we experience all things being made new.

As we make our way through any number of trials, tribulations, conflicts, and difficulties, let us remember that the love of God wins – and let us always to remember to worship the Lord.

Blessings

September 15, 2021

Same job, different job.

Football season is upon us. I had my first two games last week and my next two games are scheduled for tomorrow and Friday. It's been good to put on the stripes again and gather with the guys of my other team as we do what we love to do – participate in football games.

For those of you wondering, no, I have not been allowed to work games as an on-field official. Even though the back surgery seems to have gone well, I still need to be careful, so I'm on a strict BLT diet: no Bending, Twisting, or Lifting.

What I have been allowed to do is to serve as the clock operator for games. This means I go up into the press box, plop down in a chair, set the clock for 12 minutes, and keep track of down, distance, yard lines, score, possession, and timeouts. And let me tell you, the first time in the booth running that clock I was absolutely terrified.

I am still a game official, but I have a different job.

Which got me wondering: as we have moved through COVID and all that entails, what are some of the same jobs you have that are different? How we do school is the same but different. How we've done vestry meetings have been the same but different. How we've ministered and worshiped and welcomed and served people have been the same but different.

People like for things to be the same because it's comfortable. I would much rather be on the field than in the booth because being on the field is comfortable. I would much rather be doing all the things associated with church like we've always done them because that's comfortable.

Life, though, is a series of changes where the overall sameness (living) takes on different aspects over time. We are experiencing that now – there's a sameness to things while at the same time being vastly different.

I think it's important to note how we react to all of that. I certainly don't have all the answers on the best way to accomplish it, and I certainly won't say that people who are depressed or angry or annoyed shouldn't feel that way, because we all have felt that way at one time or another. But we can look for the good in the situation and work to make it the best it can be.

Being in the booth isn't ideal, but I'm still busy on Friday nights enjoying a football game and being part of a team. Worshiping with masks, limited singing, and physical distancing isn't ideal, but we still have the pleasure and honor of worshiping God in the beauty of holiness with our team of Saint John's.

We will get through this – all of it. And I believe with every fiber of my being that we will come out stronger in the end.

Blessings,

Todd+

September 8, 2021

Do you have the courage to be in the pause between what is “no longer” and what is “not yet?”

Octavia Raheem

Octavia Raheem is an author and yoga instructor, and I ran across this quote of hers on a friend's Facebook page. I don't know anything about her other than what you can learn from using google, but I found this quote to be thought provoking.

It goes without saying that COVID has messed up and played havoc with our lives in a way that most of us have never experienced. Like a lot of people, I spent most of March – June of last year trying to navigate COVID-time. My sense of time was reduced to yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Planning moved to coping, and staying in contact with friends and acquaintances took on a new sense of importance.

Thinking back to the beginning of the pandemic, there were those who, for whatever reason, believed it would be a quick inconvenience lasting no more than three or four weeks. There were others who thought it had the capacity to last up to nine months. A few were thinking a year. Nobody I know was thinking it would carry on for 19 months and counting. But here we are.

I think earlier in the pandemic we were all hoping that somehow, some way, things would return to “normal.” We've been at this long enough now to understand that that is probably unlikely. While there may be some things that return to normal, there are just as many, or more, that won't. If we honestly evaluate where we are, I would say that we are most definitely in that pause that Ms. Raheem mentions.

We are in the pause between what is no longer and what is not yet. This can be a difficult place to be, primarily because we are mourning the passing of what was. How we used to conduct our lives has been changed or ended altogether. How we worship and do ministry has been changed or ended. For some of us, what is “no longer” may leave us feeling devastated and empty.

We are in the pause between what is no longer and what is not yet. This is both a challenging and exciting time as we look for new and creative ways to do things. How we might conduct our lives can be infused with a new sense of purpose. How we worship and do ministry has seen any number possible alternatives. The ministry of the “not yet” is still taking shape. How we do ministry – how we Welcome and Serve – in the future has yet to be defined.

As we live into the pause between the “no longer” and the “not yet,” this is a good time to use our imaginations about how we can make the “not yet” come to life.

Blessings,

August 4, 2021

On being away and being filled.

As I'm sure you all know by now, I am having a second back surgery today (my guess is somewhere between 9 and 11 am). The short story is that one of my lower discs collapsed for an unknown reason. The surgeon is going to re-straighten the spine, add a spacer and some hardware to keep it all intact, and then we hope that takes care of the problem.

I spent Monday in the office tying up some loose ends, cleaning, and organizing. I also spent some time with Dcn. Sue as we discussed the next few weeks. She will be popping into the office to check on collections for the clothes drive, the book drive, the Blessings Box, and help address any immediate needs that come up.

She will also be shepherding two priests and one bishop in my absence. The Rev. Brandt Montgomery, Chaplain at St. James School, will officiate services on 8/8 and 8/29; the Rt. Rev. Robert Ihloff, Assisting Bishop, will officiate on 8/15; and the Rev. Scott Slater, Canon to the Ordinary, will officiate on 8/22.

I will return to the office on Monday, 8/30, and the Wednesday Word will return on 9/1.

The gospel readings for August will come from John (the Bread of Life series), Luke (the Magnificat), and Mark (a controversy over issues of purity). All of these have different areas of focus and all of these will have a particular take the the preacher will articulate. But since this is my last Wednesday Word until September, I wanted to give you something to consider over the next four weeks.

In the Bread of Life series, Jesus spends a lot of time telling people how he is the true bread from heaven and anyone who eats his body will have eternal life. On the Feast of Saint Mary the Virgin, we will hear Mary sing the Magnificat, that beautiful and moving song that speaks of revolution in the name of God. And in the argument over purity, Jesus will call out hypocritical and deceitful behavior of the religious authorities.

In thinking on these things, it struck me that they all have a common thread of emptying and filling.

Jesus emptied himself so that we might be filled. Mary emptied herself so that she might accept God's call to bear the body of God incarnate. The song she sings, the Magnificat, is a song proclaiming the emptying of the world and its systems of inequality so that those on the margins might be filled. In the argument over purity, Jesus is asking us to empty ourselves of evil intentions, fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, and folly, so that we might be filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

As you move through the days of August, and while the Wednesday Word is on hiatus, take a moment to pause each day. In that pause, reflect on how you might empty yourself of those things which pull you away from the love of God and neighbor so that you and those around you may be filled with the good things of holiness.

As someone once said, “It is in the emptying of ourselves that we will be filled.”

Blessings,

July 28, 2021

“Aren't you worried?” – Question posed to me by a parishioner about my upcoming surgery

The genesis of that question was her telling me that she was going to need foot surgery to repair some damage. This would necessitate being in a large boot, followed by a smaller boot, followed by a special shoe (at least I think those were the steps). She mentioned that she was really quite nervous about the whole procedure. Somewhere in there she remembered that I was having surgery next week and wondered how I could be so calm.

First of all, I am confident that my surgeon will do a good job. He is well-respected in his field, and the current damage was not a result of anything he did wrong last time.

Second, I've discovered in life that there are certain times when it doesn't pay to worry. For me, this is one of them. I'll go in early next week, get into one of those ridiculous hospital gowns, go to sleep, and wake up (hopefully) new and improved, and without the pain, agony, and extended stay of last time.

But all of us have different thresholds of worry. I don't worry about getting on an airplane and crashing, but I do worry about roller coasters – to the extent that I won't ride one (even though the odds of dying in a plane crash are 1/188,364, compared to a roller coaster at 1/750,000,000).

Both Matthew and Luke give us passages where Jesus tells us not to worry. “Do not worry about what you will eat or wear. Can any of you add a single hour to your life by worrying about these things?”

I don't think this means going through life with a Pollyanna attitude. I do think, however, that we understand whether or not our fears or worries are rational or not. If they're irrational, we may or may not be able to overcome them. If they're rational, what are we doing to address them?

I'm not worried about my back surgery next week. But here are some things I do worry about: will we ever get to a place where people care enough about others to wear a mask and get vaccinated; will we have the fortitude to address the root causes of homelessness; will we ever honestly address systemic racism; will we get to the point where those in leadership and/or positions of power are held responsible for crimes; will we begin celebrating financial achievements that focus on feeding/housing those in need rather than rocket rides to space; will we ever love others as we think God loves us?

Do not worry about what you will eat or wear; instead, worry about how you may help to manifest the kingdom of God here on earth as it is in heaven.

Blessings,

July 21, 2021

“You lived in Montana. How did you do it?” – Question posed to me by one of the J2A teens as we flew over Montana.

When the question was asked, I thought maybe he had fallen into the old trap of thinking people in Montana (and the West, for that matter) still had to hunt and gather food, fight off hostile attacks, and rub two sticks together to make fire. So I cautiously answered him, “Ummm . . . in a house . . .”

“No, I mean, there's nothing out there. How did you do it?”

He had lived his whole life here in the eastern US. He had been camping to get away from it all, or as part of a Boy Scout week. But those were times away and temporary. Flying over the vast, mostly empty plains of the Dakotas and eastern Montana, the question bubbled up in his mind, “How could anyone actually live there?” So he asked the only person he knew who had actually done it.

Granted, I lived in a town of 700, with Dillon (pop. 4,200) only about 40 minutes around the mountain, Butte just an hour up the road, and Bozeman about 90 minutes from home. So it wasn't quite like living in Birney (pop. 106), as there were other places more remote. But he now had some idea of PLACE when I said I lived in Montana for six years.

This reminded me of the book Dakota, by Kathleen Norris. In that book she talks about living in western North Dakota and all that entails. There's a part in the book where she says, “But people do live here, and many of them will tell you in all honesty that they wouldn't live anyplace else . . . People will ask, 'How do you do it?'” That teenager was asking me the same question that Ms. Norris recorded people asking.

The answer she gives to that question is that people want to be there. You can't live in a town of 106, or 450, or 700 with limited resources and hours until the next big city unless you want to live there. The answer to that teen was that, for 6-1/2 years, I wanted to live there.

As I thought about this – both the question on the plane and the quote from Dakota – I realized that we may or may not want to be where we are. We may be somewhere because that's where our parents live, or that's where the job is, or that's where the spouse needs to be, or whatever. But wanting to be in a place makes being there more of a good thing than not.

We are all in both different places and the same places. What are some good things about the place you are that bring you joy or solace or excitement? What are some things you see or feel that can make you say, “I want to be here.”

If we can focus on the good, we will be able to more readily say, “This is a good place. I want to be here.”

Blessings,

July 14, 2021

For God so loved the world that he sent WWIII – Yehezkel Landau, quoted in, The Rapture Exposed, by Barbara Rossing

I'm leading a Sunday afternoon bible discussion via Zoom on the Book of Revelation (1 pm Eastern, Meeting ID 818 4372 6716, Passcode 157085). We are just finishing the letters to the seven churches, will do a little review, take a break during August, and then resume again come September. If you haven't been with us, you are welcome to join anytime.

As we read through this book there are bizarre images of rampaging locusts, stars falling from heaven, seas boiling, devouring dragons, and so much more. These images have been used over the years to (incorrectly) predict the end of the world and the punishment of evildoers. End times “scholars” have used Revelation as an authoritative road map of what must take place to ensure the return of Jesus. These interpretations have weaseled their way into politics and have been used to help create laws and policies on everything from the environment to the Middle East.

Another aspect that people who look to Revelation as a guide to the future seem to have is a gleeful enjoyment of destruction and punishment. The Left Behind series revels in violence and the death and destruction of all those who don't hold the same beliefs as the main characters/authors. There is no need to care for the environment if all the good people are going to be magically whisked away.

But what those “scholars” and others who read Revelation as an end-times road map miss is that the overall message of that book is one of hope, not of despair. It is one of creation, not of destruction.

What would it look like if we all began reading scripture as a book of hope for God's creation rather than as a book of power, revenge, and exceptionalism? What would it look like if we all stopped looking for ways that God will execute our enemies and began looking for ways to see how God loved the world?

Our first step is to begin pointing out that those who use Revelation as a road map to the end times were wrong in 1843, 1844, 1994, 2011, 1988, 1910, 1813, 2015, and will be wrong again.

The next step is to begin seeing scripture not as a book of condemnation, death, and destruction, but as a book that shows God trying to reconnect with his creation, a book of life, and a book of creation.

I've often been asked, “Are these the end times?” My answer is always the same: These are the end times for somebody.

As we encounter people in all stages of life, let us offer our scripture and our faith as places of hope, not of despaire.

Blessings,

July 7, 2021

Several years ago my good friend Jane and I took a road trip from our homes in Montana down to Salt Lake City for a seminar entitled, “Preaching the Land,” or something like that. While I can't remember the exact title of the event, I do remember that it revolved around land and geology and how to incorporate that into sermons.

I won't go into all the details of those several days other than to say that land and geology are more important than you might originally think – remember all those times that Jesus was out on the water, or in the wilderness, or on a mountain. The words he speaks are important, but the places in which he speaks them are also important.

I was reminded of that this past week as I flew with Joelene and four members of J2A out west. I was reminded that place and geology are important as we flew by 14,410' Mt. Rainier and the massive post-eruption crater of Mt. St. Helen's. I was reminded of it as we gazed at Mt. Hood from Portland and visited the waterfalls of the Columbia Gorge. I was reminded of it as we drove the coastal highway of US 101 and walked by Haystack Rock, the third largest inter-tidal monolith in the world. All of these are the land of where I'm from and they are a part of who I am.

But Jesus didn't speak to an empty landscape; Jesus spoke to the people who lived in those various places. He spoke to sea-going fishermen and land-locked shepherds. He spoke to tax collectors in the cities and to farmers out in the country. I was reminded of that as we arrived home early Sunday morning and saw our teens reunited with their parents. I was reminded of it at a carillon concert where people gathered together to hear beautiful music. I was reminded of that during a 4^th of July party where people gathered and hugged, ate and laughed, played games and shared stories.

I have lived in a variety of places during my time as a priest – from the Rocky Mountains of southwest Montana to the river valleys of southern Oregon to now here on the east coast. Through it all I keep coming back to this: while the place shapes the people, it is the people who make the place.

I enjoyed my trip out west to some of the places that shaped me; but I'm also very glad to be back home among people who do their best to exhibit the love of Christ in the places around them.

The place of Saint John's shapes its people, but it's the people of Saint John's that makes the place. May we be reminded of these two important pieces as we continue to move forward in the reopening/regathering process and as we continue to work to invite people into this special place where they can both be shaped by it and help to make it a place worth being.

Blessings,

June 23, 2021

It's the final countdown – Europe

In five days the J2A group will be leaving for their trip to Oregon. This trip has been in the works since early 2019 (if I'm remembering correctly) when the kids were brainstorming what they wanted to do to close out the program. Following God's commandment to care for the earth, they decided they wanted to do some beach clean up and, for a variety of reasons, the Oregon coast was chosen.

If you've been reading Soundings and the J2A updates, you'll know that beach clean up and working with the artist from the Washed Ashore art gallery are a big part of this trip. You will also recall that this trip was scheduled for the summer of 2020, but then delayed thanks to the COVID pandemic.

But now the time has finally arrived and we are on the final countdown to leaving Hagerstown, the east coast, and pretty much everything these kids have ever known and head off to a different time zone, different coast, different weather, different everything.

For those of you who have supported this program over the years, thank you. For those of you who have contributed financially through the Flamingo Flocking and other random donations, thank you.

Today isn't so much a Wednesday Word as it is a Wednesday Request.

Joelene, Christina, Rachel, Brent, Nate, and myself will be leaving for BWI this coming Monday earlier than I want to think about to catch a 7:15 flight. We will spend time exploring, working, and learning. We will arrive back home early Sunday morning, July 4. And on July 11, they will make a presentation to the congregation at the 9:30 service.

All next week I ask your prayers primarily for safe travel, but also that they may be touched by God in a way that stays with them for the rest of their lives. I also ask that you pray for Haley who was unable to go on the trip but is still a vital part of the group.

We are all looking forward to this upcoming adventure and hope you will join us either in person or online on Sunday, July 11, to hear all about it.

Blessings,

June 16, 2021

Written originally as a word of comfort and hope, it has become for many a word of fear and despair. Catherine Gunsalus Gonzalez and Justo L. Gonzalez, WBC: Revelation

This is the second sentence of the introduction to this commentary on the book of Revelation. I am currently doing a study of Revelation on Zoom every Sunday at 1 pm. I had been asked to do this for several reasons, but, I think, primarily because we as a church spend precious little time with this last book of scripture. Between the four horsemen of the apocalypse, scrolls of judgment, bowls of disease, hail and fire mixed with blood, avenging locusts, and earth being burned up by fire and falling stars, it's no wonder people are afraid to delve into this book. It's no wonder that people view this book as a book of fear and despair.

Earlier this week I had a conversation with a man who wanted to know why the Episcopal church suddenly began allowing gays and lesbians to marry and get ordained. During that conversation he quoted Leviticus 20:13. I pointed out to him that people were quick to condemn others with those so-called “clobber verses,” but those same people were just as likely to ignore Leviticus 19:9-10, 19, and 33-34 (among others).

The totality of scripture is the story of God trying to bring humanity back into unity with God and others. I'm reminded of Eucharistic Prayer C: “Again and again, you called us to return. Through prophets and sages you revealed your righteous Law. And in the fullness of time you sent your only Son, born of a woman, to fulfill your Law, to open for us the way of freedom and peace.”

For too long holy scripture has been used as a club to pound people into submission, as a horror novel used to sell fire insurance, or as a blueprint for self-satisfaction. None of these views are correct, and all of them neglect to view the bible as the above authors described Revelation.

We are hopefully coming to the end of the COVID-19 pandemic. We are hopefully coming to a place where we can regather and worship without fear. That full return may yet be a ways off, but I am hopeful we are getting there.

In that return we have something to share with the world around us. In that return it is up to us to present scripture and our faith as expressed here at Saint John's as words of comfort and hope. Because really, there is enough fear and despair in the world without Christians adding to it.

Blessings,

June 9, 2021

Spiritual reading is reflective and prayerful. – Marjorie J. Thompson, Soul Feast

I sat in on Dcn. Sue's Zoom-group discussion of Mark last night. Every Tuesday evening at 7 she leads a group of people on a journey through that gospel (except for next week when she will be out of town on a retreat) as they “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” what the author is telling us about Jesus.

Mark's gospel was, we presume, the first canonical gospel written. It's also the shortest of the four. It moves quickly from one scene to another, famously punctuated by the word “immediately.” It reads like a travel diary, hence the early Church tradition that this was a written recording of stories that Peter told.

Last night we read the story of Jesus going to the country of the Gerasenes where he was met by a man possessed by a demon(s) named Legion. After a brief discussion, Jesus casts the demons into a herd of swine who then rush off the cliff into the sea where they are drowned.

We also read the story of Jesus raising Jairus' 12-year old daughter from the dead and the healing of a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years.

We spent a good deal of time discussing these three stories. During the discussions there were any number of ideas as to the meaning, comparisons to other biblical stories, and how these stories might apply to any/each of us today.

Now, whether or not you join Dcn. Sue for her study on Mark, or join me for my study on Revelation, isn't the point. The point here is to remind you that, as you read through scripture, there are a variety of ways to read the text. One way is to simply read through it as a story; which is fine if you're simply looking to familiarize yourself with the text.

But another way is to read it slowly, prayerfully, and reflecting on how the text can be tied to other biblical texts as well as how it might be applied in your life today.

So read again the story of the demoniac in the country of the Gerasenes and ask yourself, “What things in my life would I rather be chained to than be freed from?”

Take your time with scripture, spend some time in prayerful reflection on passages, and listen to what the Spirit is saying.

Blessings,

June 2, 2021

In my experience there are four kinds of mornings: the kind of normal rush to get out of the house to make it to work/school/wherever on time; the kind where things come together just right and you get all the green lights; the kind where nothing goes right; and the kind where things are going right but then something happens to ruin it all.

This past Sunday was a morning of the fourth kind.

I was getting ready to head to the office for Sunday services and everything was falling into place. That is, until I was at the garage door and realized I left my glasses laying upstairs. I ran up to get them and . . . no glasses. They weren't on the bed. They weren't on the dresser. They weren't on the sink. I was sure that's where I left them. So I ran downstairs. They weren't on the couch. They weren't on the side table.

Back upstairs. They weren't on the dining room table. They weren't in the living room. They weren't in the kitchen. Back up to the bedroom. Again. Not there. In fact, they were nowhere. And to top it off, today was Rite 1, so I couldn't even fake my way through service. Back downstairs with my frustration rising ever faster.

Until Joelene hollered from upstairs. I had, for some unknown reason, decided to hang them on the back of the door while brushing my teeth. Things hanging on the back of the door don't get seen when you pop in to look for them.

Off I went. Frustrated. Annoyed. Late. And ready to stew the whole way into town and wonder what else would go wrong today.

As I started to drive out of the garage in a less-than-holy state, Taylor Swift's “Shake It Off” came on the radio. In short, it's a song about not letting outside influences control your behaviors and/or reactions to things you can't control, so just shake it off.

Sometimes things don't go exactly as planned, and sometimes little things can set you off. But we have a choice as to how we are going to react. In the end, my misplaced glasses weren't worth the overreaction on my part, so on my drive into church I shook it off.

What are some things in your life that you might want to shake off?

Blessings,

May 26, 2021

Every once in awhile we arrive at a point where we seem to be overwhelmed with things to do and not nearly enough time or resources to accomplish them. Having a shortage of time and resources for some people is a daily occurrence. For others it happens much less frequently. No matter our situation, we all deal with the stress of running into those shortages in different ways. Some people probably list out what can easily be done and work their way through the more difficult tasks, accomplishing one at a time with a sense of pride. On the other end of that scale, some people become so overwhelmed with what needs to be done and their limited resources that they just lie down and take a nap. I tend to swing between those two extremes.

For the first time since the pandemic began I am suddenly feeling overwhelmed. I'm suddenly faced with new COVID guidelines about everything from cleaning to regathering. I'm trying to balance those new guidelines with many questions about when we can begin implementing those guidelines here at Saint John's. Add to that trying to figure out how to best implement the return of any number of ministries in and around the church. There are times when I'm certain as to how to proceed and where to start. There are times when I just want to lie down and take a nap.

I bring this up not to complain about my job, or to use the people of Saint John's as a type of sounding board, but to remind you that where there's one there are probably many.

In other words, right about now many of us are probably beginning to feel stressed or overwhelmed about any number of things going on in the world. We all have issues and concerns that have cropped up. Because, if you think about it, this time last year was easy – Stay home, mask up, sanitize everything, avoid contact with people, etc. etc. etc. But now . . . vaccinated people were told they could do one thing last week, and this week they can do something else. Last week we had to still be careful about common-touch items, but today I read that's not as necessary as we thought. These and many other things seem to be changing rapidly.

We all have concerns. We are all being bombarded with new information on a daily, or sometimes hourly, basis. Each of us has a point of feeling overwhelmed, and that point is different for everybody.

So this is your official reminder: Be gentle with others. Be patient. Learn to see each step forward not as a shortfall of where you want to be, but as a gift of progress from where we've come.

We are all moving forward, but it will take more work than we might have originally thought.

Blessings,

May 19, 2021

The emergency brake on my wife's car is a step brake. That is, you step on it with your left foot to set the brake, and you step on it to release it. The emergency brake in my car is a hand brake that rests between the driver and passenger seat. I would say that almost every car I've ever driven has had a hand brake, while very few have had a foot brake. This experience has shaped my reality.

At the end of June, Joelene and I are taking several members of the J2A on a mission trip to the Oregon coast. While there they will visit a few churches, meet with some of the vestries, help to clean up the beach, and experience a part of the country they have never seen. At least two of them have never been on a plane. We will be leaving very early on Monday, June 28, and returning very early on Sunday, July 4. Because of the very early departure and arrival, I will be driving everyone to and from BWI in the church van. Since I've never driven the van before, I needed to take a driving test with Charlie Chaney supervising.

He showed me how the side door worked, and how to lower the steps and re-secure them. I found where the wipers and lights were, checked the mirrors, located the registration and insurance cards, saw there was a step brake, and generally familiarized myself with the van.

I put my sunglasses on, started it up, stepped on the emergency brake, and off we went. I decided to head down National Pike/Dual Hwy to I-70, over to I-81 to Exit 6, and back to the church. That would give me some practice in both city and highway driving.

Just about the time we got to Aldi's, I noticed a red light on the dashboard. Red lights on dashboards are generally not good. So I took off my sunglasses for a better look, expecting it to say, “Check Engine.” Instead it said, “Brake On.” So I stepped on the brake again. It only went further down. I stepped on it harder. It went to the floor and stayed. The lights at both Tracy Lane and Eastern Blvd were green, and traffic was tight so I couldn't move over. Traffic thinned after Eastern, I found a space between cars, moved into the right lane and then over to the parking strip where I stopped and parked. Looking down to see why the brake wasn't releasing, I found a handle labeled, “BRAKE RELEASE.”

My experience of past parking brakes didn't let me see the reality of the current situation.

Which got me thinking . . . as we come out of the COVID pandemic, I hope that how we experienced the past won't cloud our vision and blind us to the reality of new situations. Let's make sure we see the whole picture before driving off like nothing has changed.

Blessings,

Todd+

May 12, 2021

Throughout the pandemic, Saint John's has continued to look for ways to reach out to those in need. Community Cafe was necessarily suspended, but that didn't stop us from looking for ways to reach out; in fact, it may have prompted us to look for new and different ways to do this.

One way we've offered support was through Kim Halsey's efforts at bringing a food giveaway to our parking lot. There have been three of these events (if I remember correctly) over the past year, and there are three more coming up fairly soon: June 11, and July 10 & 17.

We continue to support Micah's Backpack and Bester Elementary through food and supply donations designed to assist hungry and needy children in the south end of Hagerstown.

Most recently we've added the Blessings Box to this list. The Blessings Box (an idea put forth by Dcn. Sue Wert) is really a set of three lockers sitting on the front porch of the office that stocks food and other supplies. These items are freely donated and are free for the taking. “Give What You Can; Take What You Need” is its motto. Not only has this been stocked by parishioners, but the United Way of Washington County recently got into the act by donating food.

I wrote about this somewhere, but we also received a $1000 donation to be used to purchase supplies for the box. That money went into my Discretionary Fund and is earmarked for that specific purpose.

So on Monday, Dcn. Sue and I took a trip to Target and did some shopping.

We came out of Target with $343 worth of personal hygiene items, diapers, hand sanitizer, baby food, and other items. Some of those items went directly into the box, others went into storage to be put in at a later time.

As we were shopping, or maybe as we were loading the car, Dcn. Sue said, “I hope the recent focus on the Blessings Box doesn't take away from Micah's Backpack.”

I think that's a fair question. But I also think, and as I told Dcn. Sue, Micah's Backpack and the Blessings Box serve two different purposes. Micah's is designed to help ensure school children whose families are living at or below the poverty line have enough food after school and over the weekend. The Blessings Box is designed to provide immediate, short-term relief for people of all ages who find themselves in a difficult situation.

As you donate from your abundance to these two programs that serve people in need, please remember that this is not an Either/Or situation, but a Both/And. One does not take the place of another, but both are needed and both are necessary. So keep the two lists handy on whatever tablet you use to make a grocery list and alternate between Micah and the Box. Or maybe do a little of each and mark your donation Micah or Box so we know how to divide it up. These two things are both needed, and these two things will continue to be generously supported by the people of Saint John's.

In our abundance, may we never neglect to do good and share what we have.

Blessings,

May 5, 2021

Almost every church sign says something to the effect of, “Everyone Welcome.” But from my experience, and maybe yours, too, very few churches actually live into that statement. Whether it's, “Everyone Welcome” as long as you don't sit in my pew, or, “Everyone Welcome” as long as you don't disagree with the head pastor, or, “Everyone Welcome” as long as you vote like we do, there is a long list of things that become mandatory before everyone is actually welcomed.

I will admit that I am biased in this, but I have always thought that Saint John's truly does try to live into the statement, “Everyone Welcome.” That's not to say that we don't have our differences, because we do. But I have never seen anyone asked to leave the parish because of those disagreements. And I have never told anyone that they would be better served in a different place. That's also not to say that we have certain ways of doing things, because we do. We worship in a particular style and we honor that particular style every Sunday. So everyone is welcome, but we will not be hanging a sheet over the rood screen in order to project song lyrics because some people find that more welcoming.

Could we do better at welcoming people into Saint John's? Probably. Could we do worse? Most definitely. But we recognize that welcoming people is important and I believe we try at least every Sunday (and hopefully other days of the week as well) to live into the second point of our Mission Statement: Welcome.

Which is why I was proud of our Welcoming Commission, enthusiastically led by Deanna and joined by several others, at the last Vestry meeting when they proposed including the statement that “Saint John's is a Welcoming and Affirming congregation.” This may or may not mean anything to you, but “Welcoming and Affirming” are often seen as key words to people of the lgbtq+ community as meaning a safe place.

Too many people struggling with their identity have been forced out or abused at the hands of their faith communities. Too many people have been ostracized from their families because they simply want to live their lives as God created them. Too many people have been told that they are not welcome here.

Over the years, you, the people of Saint John's, have worked to make it a welcoming place. That took work and it will always take work, because it takes effort on our part to greet an unfamiliar face, it takes effort to invite people to sit with you in your pew (distancing rules aside), it takes work to follow up with people. And we continue to work at it.

And now, thanks to the Welcoming Commission, the Vestry unanimously approved incorporating the words “Welcoming and Affirming” to our website and Facebook page as well as other websites that can link back to us.

So thank you to Deanna and her group, and to the Vestry, for getting us to publicly state what we have always known: Saint John's is a welcoming and affirming congregation.

Keep up the good work,

Todd+

April 28, 2021

I had two conversations recently that touched on community – specifically community in the Church.

What makes a group of people a community? Various things factor into that: a shared vision, a shared ideal, a shared purpose, shared likes and/or dislikes, shared colors. These are all things that can create a sense of community. People who gather at a specific time to feed the hungry develop a sense of community as they work together. People working toward the election of a particular candidate can develop a sense of community. And, believe it or not, a sense of community is one of the reasons people become, and stay, involved in gangs.

Here at Saint John's, and other churches as well, we have a community of people who are drawn to our liturgy, who work together on any number of service and outreach projects, and who have developed friendships with people as we work, pray, and give for God's mission in this part of the world.

One of the things people have said they missed most during the COVID pandemic is that sense of community, that ability to gather together. As you know, we have done a variety of things to keep us all connected and maintain community; phone calls and notes have been at the top of that list, but also through other means.

One way we worked at community was to encourage people watching the online service to make comments. In the beginning, as Dcn. Sue, Mark, David, the lector, cantors, and I were waiting for the service to officially begin, it made me very happy to see everyone showing up and saying, “Hi.” Seeing people like Gary and Iris from West Virginia, Karen from New York, Jack and Betty from Pennsylvania, and so many others from so many different places, reminded me that we were still community. Reading prayer requests and thanksgivings that you sent in reminded all of us that we are still community. Seeing everyone type, “Peace” at the appropriate time brought/brings a smile to my face and reminds us that we are still community.

The past year has seen us changed by COVID, some of that change even for the better. One of the better things to come out of this pandemic season was the recognition that going to church is not just a personal choice. We have recognized what we've always known: the community of the faithful is a powerful thing and we are reminded of the power of community when we find ways to remain connected.

As attendance restrictions begin to be loosened, and as more people begin to again worship in the holy space we call Saint John's, may we remember that not all of our community sits in the pews. For those worshiping outside of our space, I encourage you to continue sending prayers, thanksgivings, and adding comments during the live stream. For those of you who are sitting in the pews, remember that the community is bigger than just those in the building; and so I encourage you to offer similar prayers, thanksgivings, and other comments.

Remember: it will be the gathered comments of those separated that will help us maintain community.

Blessings,

Todd+

April 21, 2021

“We are all visitors now” – Someone Somewhere

I ran across this quote in some Episcopal news article somewhere. I can't remember if it was Episcopal News Service, Vestry Papers, the Episcopal Church Foundation, or somewhere else. Ultimately it doesn't matter, because what this person said is accurate.

As we begin the slow process of coming together again in our various churches (Saint John's for most of us, but other houses of worship in Hagerstown and around the country and world), we are returning as visitors to places we haven't been to for some time. Over the course of the pandemic we have all experienced any number of changes in our lives. Those changes make us different than we were before the pandemic started.

As we come back, let us treat each other as if we are all visitors.

Ask meaningful questions. Don't assume everyone knows how we are operating in this pandemic era, but offer to help direct people in the right direction. Wear your name tag. Introduce yourself to someone you a) don't know, or b) looks familiar but you can't quite remember their name. Wear your name tag. Ask yourself, “If I were new here, what would I want to know?” and then make sure you know the answer. Wear your name tag. When talking with a person after service, invite someone else into your conversation. And don't forget to wear your name tag.

Saint John's has a reputation for being a welcoming parish. This not only includes the experience of Joelene and myself as we were interviewing here, but it includes the testimonials of many parishioners as they tell of their first time here.

The danger, though, is that we fall into the trap of thinking we are a welcoming parish without actually doing any welcoming. We are especially vulnerable to this as most of us simply want to return to some sense of normalcy. But let us not forget . . . “normal” for us before the pandemic was to be welcoming.

We are all visitors now. Let's not forget to treat the visitor to Saint John's as the visitor in us would like to be treated.

Blessings,

April 14, 2021

“All change brings loss” – The Rev. Joanna White, Canon for Pastoral Services

Mtr. White gave a reflection on grief during the clergy Zoom meeting last week. Out of everything she said, this caught my attention the most, probably because she followed that up by saying, “Not all loss is negative.”

We tend to think of loss from change in negative terms. The company changed direction and I've lost my job. Mom's health changed and I've lost my mother. COVID changed how we've always done things and I've lost my friends, community, job, home, health, sanity, etc.

And while all change brings loss, not all loss is negative. I've changed my eating habits and lost weight. The doctors changed my medication and I've lost my pain. I've changed jobs and I lost a toxic work environment.

But more often than not, change and loss are never so black and white. It's all a mixture of gray. I changed jobs and lost familiar surroundings and close contacts with friends and family, but that was balanced out by having a good work environment and being surrounded by new friends and new places to explore. COVID changed how we did things causing a loss of the familiar and comfortable, but that's been balanced out by new learning, new skills and new opportunities. Even the change from online-only worship services back to in-person has both negative and positive issues we must address.

We are (hopefully) coming out of the COVID pandemic. “Coming out of” doesn't mean “free and clear.” We still need to pay attention. We still need to be careful. We still need to wear masks, watch our distancing, get vaccinated, and take other precautions. This journey has forced us to change in ways we would not have ever dreamed about on February 15, 2020.

That change has brought an incredible amount of loss, probably overwhelmingly negative, but some of it positive. So as we begin to come out of the pandemic I hope you are able to find areas that could be termed 'positive loss' in your lives and think on those things for a bit. As we begin to come out of the pandemic, I hope you are able to see opportunities for new growth, new ways of doing things, and new places of joy.

All change brings loss, but not all loss is negative. I encourage you to find those areas of positive loss and allow yourself a moment of enjoyment in what has been a rough year.

Blessings,

Todd+