Wednesday Word

I received an email some weeks ago inviting me to attend a diocesan workshop on transitions.  I agreed to go and spent last weekend down in Casper with about 40 other people, both clergy and lay, and a couple of trainers from the Interim Ministry Network.  The IMN is based in Baltimore and has become a nation-wide program helping train and prepare people for interim ministry.

Our first lesson this coming Sunday comes from Ruth.  While one of the shortest books in the Bible, it’s one of the longer stories – and what a story.  A Jewish man, his wife, and two sons lived in Bethlehem.  When a famine strikes, he moves the family to Moab in order to survive.  The man dies and the two sons take wives.  After about ten years, both sons also die, so the wife/mom, Naomi, decides to return to Bethlehem and her extended family.  Ruth refuses to let her go alone, so she accompanies her mother-in-law on the long journey.  Eventually Ruth meets Boaz, they get married, and everyone lives happily ever after.

The weather was absolutely gorgeous this past weekend.  If I were in charge of the weather, that’s what fall would look like all the time around here.
 
Joelene and I took advantage of that beautiful weather and made our first drive through Crazy Woman Canyon, something we had been told we needed to do since we came out for the interview.  On our first attempt last spring we made it to the lower entrance only to find the road closed.

I may have told part of this story before, and I know I’ve told a few people here at Saint Luke’s, so forgive me if I’m repeating myself. 
 
There are spaces, places, and times that seem to grab you as being holy:  a holy space, a holy place, and a holy time.  I’ve come across several of those in my life:  a sitting rock overlooking the lake at the summer camp of my youth; the cathedral where I was ordained to the diaconate; the way the sun shone through the stained glass windows at Saint John’s at certain times of the year; and there are others, but you get the idea.  I’m sure you can think of your own places.

Last weekend took an unexpected turn when I received a phone call Thursday evening confirming the fact that I would officiate the funeral of Korina Bartlett on Saturday.  I had had a conversation earlier that this might happen, but I was never contacted . . . until Thursday evening.
 
So Friday morning I met with a family member and ironed some things out, then I went into the office where Monica and I quickly produced a funeral bulletin.  And on Saturday I did the funeral where Korina was laid to rest.

Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has dawned upon you.
 
This is the opening line of Canticle 11, The Third Song of Isaiah, from Morning Prayer and most often said on Wednesdays.  It also happens to be one of my favorite Canticles.
 
It goes on to say, “darkness covers the land, deep gloom enshrouds the peoples,” and, “Nations will stream to your light . . . Your gates will always be open.”

This past Sunday was the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels; and it was also the day we baptized Hope Lawrence into the household of God.  Last Thursday I came across a podcast from The Living Church where the host, Amber Noel, interviewed Fr. James Dominic Brent, a Dominican Friar who lives at the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, DC, and the title of the episode was, “Angels and Demons (but mostly Angels).”

This coming Sunday is the Feast of Saint Michael and All Angels.  Michael is one of four archangels mentioned in scripture (the others being Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel).  We are most familiar with Michael and Gabriel, as it is Michael who leads the other angels to battle against Satan and Gabriel who is God’s main messenger (appearing to Zechariah and Mary to announce the births of John and Jesus).

I am part of a program that works to support and strengthen clergy for the challenges we face.  My group has clergy from Virginia, Alabama, Wisconsin, New York (near Buffalo!), and Nebraska.  None of that is important, other than to say that clergy in vastly different settings tend to share the same issues.
 
I met with my group facilitator last week and she talked about her time in Burundi, Africa.  While there the bishop of the Anglican Church made a trip to England and Wales.  When he returned, she asked him, “What was it like to be in those English cathedrals or churches where you only had a handful of worshipers compared to the several hundred you regularly have here?”

Sometimes saying, “Thank you,” conveys everything you want it to mean.  When you get a birthday or anniversary call or text, saying thank you is good.  When someone puts an unexpected piece of pie on your desk, saying thank you is good.  When someone with a grocery cart full of stuff lets you in front because you only have a couple of things, saying thank you is good.
 
And sometimes saying thank you doesn’t even begin to cover it, but it’s the only phrase we have.

We all seem to be under more stress than usual.   Whether it’s fretting about politics, trying to figure out the aftermath of the recent fires, jobs, grades, difficult or harmful interactions with other people, or whatever the case may be, we all at one time or another have to deal with more stress than we normally do.

His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire. – Matt. 3:12

I recently finished re-reading The Benedictine Handbook.  This is a manual written by St. Benedict of Nursia in the 6th Century that lays out how monks and nuns are to live.  It’s not terribly long – roughly 88 pages broken down into 73 chapters, and it covers topics from hospitality to diet to prayer to work to discipline and everything in-between.
 
It’s thought that Benedict wrote The Rule in about 540, and almost 1500 years later it is still being used in monasteries and other contexts around the world.

Today, August 14, is the Feast of Jonathan Myrick Daniels.  If you’ve never heard of him, don’t worry, I hadn’t heard of him either until I attended seminary.

Yesterday, August 6, was the Feast of the Transfiguration.   This is the day the Church commemorates that mountaintop event when Jesus spoke with Moses and Elijah and his face became dazzling white.   This is also when a cloud overshadows everyone and the disciples hear a voice saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

Opus Dei is Latin and means, “Work of God.” This term was popularized by Saint Benedict in his monastic rule. In speaking about it, he says that the practice of daily prayer belongs to the whole Church, and that the whole people of God are called to sanctify their own lives by the practice of constant prayer.

This past Sunday, July 21, was a very big day at Saint Luke’s. It began with our usual Holy Eucharist service at 9:00, which was then followed by a pancake breakfast with bacon, sausage, and juice/coffee. That was followed with a bevy of activity from the reception committee as they set up and prepared for the installation service reception. Bishop Katharine arrived at 2:30 to meet with several members of our youth group, and then the installation service itself took place at 4:00. Not only was there a good turnout of parishioners, but we had several visitors and four other clergy of the diocese, three of whom vested.

I was talking with a retired clergy person awhile ago about being in Buffalo and settling in.  During the course of that conversation, he said, “You knew a priest was going to stay if they planted a tree.”  The implication, of course, being why would someone plant a tree that takes a long time to grow if they weren’t going to be around to see that happen?

When I first began my tenure at Christ Church, Sheridan, and Saint Paul’s, Virginia City, Montana, I was a transitional deacon; that is, I was ordained as a deacon in June and was waiting the canonically-required time of at least six months before being ordained as a priest.  Because I was still “in the process,” I was required to meet with the Commission on Ministry to ensure that things would still move forward.

Joelene and I have been out of town on vacation.  We planned a secret-to-my-daughter trip back to Maryland to surprise her for her birthday.

This past Monday, June 24, was the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist.  If you are paying attention, this is six months before Christmas Eve.  We don’t actually know when John or Jesus were born, as there are no specific dates mentioned in any of the gospels.  Based on Luke 1:26, however, we are told that the angel Gabriel visited Mary six months after John was conceived.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal . . .  – Declaration of Independence
 
In all such [new] territory the institution of negro slavery, as it now exists in the Confederate States, shall be recognized and protected by Congress . . . – Constitution of the Confederate States, Article IV, Section 3(3)

You may have heard me say something like, “I really need to be a desert monk in a cave somewhere.”  This sentiment usually comes when I’m frustrated about church life in one way or another.  Most recently I said it to Marilyn when we were trying to figure out why the copier wasn’t working (which, of course, happened when Monica was away).  I just need to be a monk in a cave where I don’t have to deal with persnickety copiers.

Today is the Feast Day of Boniface, Archbishop of Mainz.  He was born in England about 675 with the name of Winfred.  Eventually he became a monk and was ordained to the priesthood.

The Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary is this Friday and commemorates her visit to her elderly cousin Elizabeth, who was herself six-months pregnant with John the Baptist.  After Elizabeth meets her at the door, Mary replies with the song that has come to be known as the Magnificat, "My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord . . ."

I read something the other day that made me stop and rethink the idea of being human. 
 
We have all said, I’m sure, at one time or another, “Hey, I’m only human.”  This is often said in response to some mistake we’ve made, or following some instance that highlights our fallibility.  The sentiment is derived from our sinful nature and the many examples, both in Scripture and in life, of people making mistakes of all kinds and any number of lapses in judgment.

Two weeks ago, I wrote about time and how our concept and perception of time played into our lives.  I talked about visiting a friend without your watch, and of having your time in church focused on what you put into worship rather than what you get out of it.

Tomorrow is the Feast of the Ascension.  This day comes 40 days after the Resurrection and commemorates the day Jesus was taken into heaven.  This event, however, is only attested to in two places:  Luke 24:51 and Acts 1:9 (it also appears at the very end of Mark, but this was most likely added later in an effort to make the gospels harmonious).  Additionally, it is only in Acts 1:3 where we are told Jesus appeared to his disciples during a 40-day period.

I’m rereading a book called Life on the Vine, and there’s a section where the author discusses time and productivity.  It’s not a deep dive into these topics, but he brings up some points about how different cultures view time and when western culture first segmented and regulated time into hours, minutes, and seconds.  European monks, with their scheduled prayer life, were the first to use mechanical clocks, with the earliest known clock being built sometime in 996.

Do you still feel the pain of the scars that won't heal? – Elton John, Daniel
 
It’s funny, sometimes, how things come together.  Due to the interest of some people, I began hosting a discussion after the 10:00 service following coffee hour; I guess you could call it a “Rector’s Forum,” but it’s really a discussion covering a variety of topics.  Since we’re in the Easter season I thought I’d start with the various resurrection stories found in the four gospels and Acts.

This past Sunday’s gospel came from Luke 24:36b-48.  In this particular post-resurrection story Jesus appears among the disciples and says, “Peace be with you.”  The disciples are terrified, and Jesus then says, “Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself.”  And after saying this, he shows them his hands and his feet.  He then commissions them to proclaim the good news beginning in Jerusalem.

Have you ever thought about resurrection?  Really sat down and thought about it?
 
I think for most of us, myself included, we go through Holy Week experiencing the somberness of Maundy Thursday, the trauma of Good Friday, the hopelessness of Holy Saturday, and the ultimate joy of Easter without really thinking about resurrection.

This is a hard week. 
 
Sunday started with the singing of, “All glory, laud, and honor,” and quickly moved to shouting, “Crucify him!”
 
The Daily Collects this week refer to the way of the cross and death as a way of life and peace; ask that we may gladly suffer shame and loss for the sake of Jesus; remind us that Jesus gave his body to be whipped and his face to be spit upon; recall his willingness to be betrayed; and ask us to wait while the body of Jesus lay in a tomb.

Who can tell how often he offends? * cleanse me from my secret faults. – Ps. 19:12
 
Ps. 19 was the appointed psalm for Lent III.  It’s a good one for Lent, as it offers a variety of verses that can be meditated on and prayed with during this season of self-examination.  If you are still looking for a Lenten discipline, or if your original discipline went by the wayside and you want to pick something up, may I suggest reading and meditating on Psalm 19?

We are halfway through Lent, the season of self-examination and repentance; of prayer, fasting, and self-denial.  During this penitential season we make a right beginning by confessing our sins in a more deeply and personal way.  We read the Litany of Penitence on Ash Wednesday, confessing our sins to God, to each other, and to the whole communion of saints.  We begin each Sunday service with the Penitential Order, and the Confession of Sin is one of the first things we do in the liturgy.  On Lent 1, I read the Exhortation which encouraged you to “open your grief to a discreet and understanding priest” so that you may receive the assurance of pardon.

Joelene and I were part of our first Youth Group gathering here at Saint Luke’s this past Sunday afternoon.  We had a total of seven kids, which isn’t bad for our first time out.  We spent time learning about our names, what schools they attended, and their interests.  We set norms for the group, ate walking tacos and brownies, and played a game of Bible Pictionary which probably ended in a tie.  We closed out our time together by praying Compline (pg. 127 in the BCP if you’re looking for a good way to end your day).

Wednesday Word:  In
 
Have you ever thought about the word, In?  It’s such a small word – one syllable, two letters.  But despite its smallness, it can hold multiple meanings and it serves as a preposition, noun, adjective, and adverb.

One day your soul will quit your body . . . all that we do know is that die we shall, and for the most part sooner than we expect. – The Devout Life, St. Francis DeSales
 
Death is never easy.  Oh, it may be easy for some who die, but not always.  It may be expected and a relief, such as after a long illness.  For those who are left behind, expected or unexpected, death is never easy.

We live in a consumerist society.  On one hand, this is simply the way things are:  we exchange our labor for wages and our wages for those things we both need and want.  On the other hand, we are always in danger of allowing this system to rule over us: wanting the latest style, trend, or gadget, wanting more than we need, hoarding what we have, and allowing our purchases to dictate who we are.

This past Sunday was our Annual Meeting.  We read the reports of the various committees and programs of the parish.  The 2024 budget was presented.  We elected three new Vestry members (Perry Smith, Charlotte Velasquez, and Tom Berry) and approved one more (Bob Kessler) who will fill the unexpired term of Mike Hanson who had to resign last year.  We also elected a Convention Delegate and Alternate (Monica Smith and Linda Clark).

January 6 is the Feast of the Epiphany, also known as the Manifestation of Our Lord Jesus Christ to the Gentiles.  This is the day we celebrate the arrival of the magi/wise men at the house of the Holy Family in Bethlehem.  We are told in Matthew that the wise men came from the east and followed a star that eventually led them to the house in Bethlehem.  They were the first non-Jews to recognize the importance of the birth of Jesus.