Fresh Ideas

Joe and I are invited to have dinner with friends on Friday night but it is not your usual “dinner with friends” kind of evening.  Oh, there’s sure to be great food and lots of laughter.  We know some of the people and they’re all interesting.  But there are stipulations in this invitation as to what can be talked about and what’s off limits.  For example, we cannot talk about the weather or how unprepared we are for the coming church year.  We cannot complain about how hot it’s been this summer or how much rain we’ve had.  What we are being invited to talk about are fresh ideas for ministry, things we want to work on to change the world, creative things we’re doing, and how we are open to new possibilities and opportunities to make a difference in the world.  Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?

Since I can’t just show up with an appetizer or bottle of wine, I’ve been thinking what I will bring to the table conversation on Friday night.  I’m excited about a lot of things at St. James this fall with the spirituality groups beginning again, the youth confirmation class starting up, the Clinton Youth Group forming, our choirs returning, (and especially the beginning of a “tiny tots” choir) and I’m energized by the possibilities for the Lewis House that will be emerging in conversations with the congregation.  But, the way I see it, outside of Clinton, the world is in pretty sad shape.  To be honest I cannot even watch the evening news.  To see all the war torn areas of our world is heart breaking and it makes me angry.  I’ll listen to NPR in the morning but that’s about all I can take of knowing how horrible things are in the world.  I don’t know what I can possibly do to change it but I know I need and want to do something. 

This leads me to the very stimulating conversation we had this morning in the Tuesday morning Spirituality Group.  Using articles from the Weavings journal as our jumping off place for conversation, our article for today was “Graceful Neighboring—Dancing with our Diversity”.  Sounds delightfully engaging but one thing led to another and we found ourselves confronting each other with the turmoil in the Middle East.  The questions seem to be unanswerable—why are we really there, what’s behind our motivation, what can we do to stop the terrible devastation, are they really our neighbors and, perhaps mostly importantly, what would Jesus do? 

I wish I could tell you we came to some definitive conclusions but we didn’t.  Mostly I think we left with our minds spinning because such conversations can be draining and leave one feeling helpless.  I said I admire the woman named “Ebbie” who stands out on the village green on Sunday evenings with a sign that invites drivers to honk for peace but I’d be too embarrassed to do that.  So I’m not really open to that idea—and besides, it’s her idea.  But I do wonder is there a new creative possibility we could undertake as a parish to take a stand for peace?  Is there anything we can do together to make a difference in the world?  I am certainly hopeful and excited about the future of St. James but I am not so sure about the state of the world.  Any thoughts?

More Will Be Revealed

The change in the chapel is striking. No, not just striking it is breathtaking.  Let me explain.  The Chapel of the Sacred Heart was constructed in 1894.  It is part of what is now known as Richmond Hill.  For the past seven years Richmond Hill has been a place of prayer for me.  Moving to Richmond, Virginia in 1998 I quickly discovered this old 19th century converted convent which is now an ecumenical retreat center.  Over these years I have said many prayers in this place.  Prayers for healing, prayers for guidance, prayers for strength and courage.  I’ve said prayers of confession, of thanksgiving, of intercession.  This sacred space has heard many petitions of my heart and it is, by the way, the place where Joe and I met.

Recently I was back at Richmond Hill for an overnight retreat and was amazed at all the changes that have taken place.  We gave to the Capital Campaign so I knew the renovations were happening but this was my first time to actually see the transformations.  Walking into the chapel I could not believe my eyes.  The once small enclosed chapel now revealed a second story complete with eight original stained glass windows, a beautiful 33 ft. barrel-vaulted ceiling and intricate hand-stenciled gold-leaf borders. All this had been completely concealed by a dropped ceiling and vinyl wall covering that were put up by the Sisters of the Visitation in 1975.  All the beauty that was above the fake ceiling had been there all along but had been concealed.  No one knew of these treasures because they were completely blocked from sight.  In time more would be revealed and was revealed when the dropped ceiling and vinyl wall covering were removed.

Which brings me to my theme for the new year…”more will be revealed.”  It is amazing to me how little we really know of the future.  Oh, we can presume to believe that we will go on living just as we have, that no surprises will come our way, and that life will go on in 2006 just as it has in 2005.  We can assume broken relationships will remain broken, that hurts will not go away, that limitations will always be limitations.  But I hope this is not true.  I hope that for all of us and for St. James Church more will be revealed in 2006.  That somehow the temporary ceiling of our life and church will be removed and more will be revealed.  More of God’s purpose for us, more of God’s love for us, more of our care and concern for one another, more of who we are called to be as the people of God.  Yes, it is my hope that more will be revealed in 2006 and when we see what has been hidden, it will literally take our breath away.  I hope we are so amazed and grateful for God’s goodness and mercy that we will stand in awe of God’s love and respond in ways we have never done before. 

The way I see it changes will surely occur in 2006.  Good changes.  Surprising changes.  And through them more will be revealed.  May we remain faithful to the task of looking for new horizons, new challenges, and new opportunities to serve God.  Happy New Year!

The Wise Men see a baby.  One day in the future more will be revealed.  Beyond the cradle there will be a cross and an empty tomb.

This Is MY Church

I hope adults reading this article will not be offended but I must confess children are some of my favorite parishioners.  Take for example, Zack.  Today Zack made my day and he doesn’t even know it.  I’m told by his mom as they were coming in for worship Zack announced, as only a three year old can do, “This is MY church!”   And so it is, Zack.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if more adults would be as adamant and stake such a claim? 

Following worship, as lemonade-on-the-lawn was ending, I took delight hearing a couple of little girls beg their parents to let them stay so they could have more play time with their friends.  Which makes me wonder if coffee hour and fellowship dinners and work days and potluck suppers might be better attended if we adults enjoyed the fellowship with our friends at church as much as these little girls. 

Then there are some visitors we had this summer—two young nephews who had never been to an Episcopal Church.  Their aunt schooled them well before worship and they knelt at the Altar for a blessing as she had instructed.  On the way back to their seats, I’m told the older nephew whispered out loud to his aunt and asked if he had just been baptized.  I love that!  He knew something sacred had happened to him and just wasn’t sure what it was.  What if we all had such an awareness of the holy at the Altar?

The way I see it children have a lot to teach us.  Their enthusiasm and innocence make me smile.  And it is amazing to watch their little spiritual selves unfold.  They are paying attention.  You can be sure of that.  They watch what we adults are doing.  You may even notice the little girl who often blesses me back with the sign of the cross as I offer the final blessing in worship.   Children know when they are accepted and loved and I want them to always feel at home here.

The way I see it we have an obligation and a responsibility to ensure the future of St. James for our children.  Our annual giving campaign in October will focus on “Generations of Generosity”.  So if you have grown up at St. James be thinking about all those saints who gave their time, talent and money to ensure the future of this parish.  And if you grew up in another church, take some time to remember those persons who made sure you had a church in which to worship as a child, youth, or young adult.  We are all in this together and it is my hope that each one of us will stake a claim like Zack and pronounce…”This is MY church!”

Snow and Resurrection

Living in upstate New York is altering my theology of the resurrection.  For forty years (actually almost fifty) I have associated Easter and the resurrection with a glorious spring—warm weather and colorful flowers.  In the South, azaleas come into full bloom sometime around Easter clothed in bright pink and deep coral, nail scarred white and pink blossoms cover dogwood trees, yellow daffodils fill the landscape.   All the analogies of flower bulbs and leafless trees lying dormant until late March or early April and then suddenly springing to life around Easter have reinforced for me, all my life, that resurrection is real.  The dark and dreary dismal days of winter are replaced with sunshine, warm weather and blue skies.  These outward and visible signs have always confirmed for me that indeed Christ is risen.  Alleluia!

However, as I write this article on April 23rd it is snowing and it is cold.  The skies are gray and I cannot see a single flower of any color from my study window.  Where are Easter and the resurrection now?   The once very familiar signs are suddenly nowhere to be seen.  Today looks more like Good Friday than Easter and I am forced to look somewhere else for signs of resurrection.  But where?

One thought is to look back on my life to see if I can remember times where God brought life out of death.  Yes, I remember feelings of utter despair before, during and after my divorce—days on end of depression and hopelessness.  But, then I also remember how shimmers of hope and glimpses of new life began appearing.  My life did go on in unimaginable ways.  Then there was my work as a hospital chaplain. Many days there was more pain and suffering than I thought I could bear.  But then light would shine in the darkness through a patient’s faith or recovery or even death. 

Another place to look for resurrection is to think of all the people I know who have their own Easter stories.  There is Michael who is five and has muscular dystrophy but is so joyous about life.  There are the Bucci’s who lost their twins prematurely and are now expecting again.  A friend, John, e-mails how his wife’s dying has taught him about living.

During these next fifty days of Easter we are all invited to look for the risen Christ.  The gospel readings in the coming weeks will tell of his appearing to those first believers.  As the risen Christ, Jesus continues to appear to believers.  We are to be on the lookout.  So watch for lives around you being transformed and changed.  Watch for hope to emerge out of despair.  Watch for new life.  Be on the lookout.  Christ is risen. Alleluia! Alleluia!

Shaped By Call

Clinton, New York is a college town in upstate New York.  It is located about 10 miles south of Utica, which is between Syracuse and Albany.  St. James, where I have been called as rector, is a small, quaint, Episcopal Church on Williams Street about half a block up from the village square.  The rectory, where we will be living, is literally attached to the church.  Both the church and the rectory are carpenter gothic by design and were built in the 1860’s.  Sounds very different from Christ Church on Pouncey Tract Road in Glen Allen, Virginia doesn’t it?

Well it is and it isn’t.  It IS going to be much colder with lots more snow.  And there aren’t any planned communities like Twin Hickory or Wyndham being built in Clinton.  And they probably don’t say “ya’ll” very much or eat grits but there’s a group of people in Clinton just like you and me.  They hurt and hope and are seeking to grow in their relationship with God.  They want to worship with joy and be faithful disciples in the world around them.  They want their babies to be baptized, their youth to be guided, their children to be married in the church, and when death occurs they want a burial service at the church.  They, like all of us, face disappointments, failures and losses as well as joys and celebrations.  And they want me to walk with them.

What they don’t know is that the rector they are getting is the priest you have grown me to be.  If I am a compassionate priest it is because you have trusted me with your sorrows and suffering; if I am a passionate preacher it is because you have listened with your hearts and encouraged me to do the same; if I am a caring shepherd if is because you have trusted me to lead you.  Please know how very grateful I am to each one of you for all of this.  It is breaking my heart to leave but I know it is right and that I am ready to be the rector of St. James.  You are a wonderful people and your next Assistant Vicar is going to be a very, very lucky priest.   Love, Jenn