A Word from Fr. Chip about my care for St. Luke's

This past Sunday afternoon we took an important first step in the work to prepare ourselves and our space for regathering. The Usher ministry members gathered for instruction and to ask questions about the ways of doing things that will be required, at least for the foreseeable future. 

It was a difficult time to realise how different things will have to be and to reflect on how limited the number of families present may make the time and the space feel not as full as one might like. 

But it was in the moments just before the training began that I had an encounter that caused my heart to swell and then to ache. I was near the doors of the church making sure those attending received the print out and letting them know we were gathering in the Nave when one of the attendees said in a happy voice how good it was to see me. Then, realising why there was a pause in my response and introduced themselves. They knew me, but I did not know them.

That moment was hard, and also joyful. It caused me to realise that I have spent this past year praying for, serving, and deeply loving the community of St. Luke’s while still not having met most of you. 

I was here on Sunday’s only serving as a deacon for a time but those short encounters were far too few. Some people who have felt safe enough to come to outdoor 8 am worship I have come to know, but only so far. I used the wrong name for someone just the other day, realising it only after they had gone. 

It pulls at my heart that I’ve been unable to learn the names and faces of the people of St. Luke’s who have shown me the strength of God’s love through this terrible pandemic. By that same token I hope and pray that I have been able to share that love with you and that you will be able to finally come to church and introduce yourself. That we can be known to each other and carry forward the work God has given us to do. 

Sharing Love,

Fr. Chip

A Word from Fr. Chip about Who’s Welcome at Church

Everyone. Everyone is welcome at church. That is the way it should be. If you ask me, that’s a lot to live up to.

I was thinking about how Easter changes the world this week and was reminded of the claim often found on Episcopal Church signs and in our published materials, “The Episcopal Church Welcomes Everyone.”

To some that might seem like a new and radical claim. Or to others it might seem like a statement of the obvious. In fairness, it may be one or the other depending on how you were taught about who the church is and what it means to be a Christian.

The church has failed at welcoming everyone. Some have even converted the purposes of God’s love into moralist authoritarianism. Telling themselves, and others, to keep out those who don’t measure up or conform to arbitrary standards that are unequally applied besides.

The earliest records of the Christian tradition tell us that the early church was mostly slaves, the poor, outcasts, and women (who were oppressed and disenfranchised) that responded with faith to the message of Jesus Christ.

Support for the church came mostly from women with access to funding or other resources.

These were not “respectable” people in their Sunday best. Many persons gathered around those early Eucharistic tables would be struggling to survive. Education would not have been common. Sin and suffering would both be close at hand.

These are the forebears from whom we inherit the faith and its traditions. The welcome in our churches is radical and open because of the example set by those who came before us. Everyone is welcome at church. God, I pray that it will be so.

Seeking peace,

Fr. Chip

A Reflection from Bishop Susan Goff: Amid the Wreckage

The beach after a storm is a place of wonders. With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, I get up before dawn and go outside as the sun rises. I find

A tree trunk lying askew, as if casually tossed by a giant hand

Gaping holes and deep gullies in places they hadn’t been the day before

The sand stripped away in some spots and piled high in others

Shredded beach umbrellas and bent chairs strewn every which way.

Amid the wreckage, life goes on.

Sandpipers continue their dance at the edge of the breakers

Gulls cry overhead

Pelicans dive and dolphins swim

Life goes on, changed and ever new.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, women friends of Jesus got up before dawn after a weekend of storms and went to the tomb as the sun rose. They found

A stone rolled away, as if casually tossed by a giant hand

A gaping hole that had once been closed and sealed

The earth stripped away beneath the displaced boulder

Grave cloths strewn and scattered every which way.

Amid the wreckage, life went on.

Birds sang. Critters crawled.

And, so much more.

Resurrection was revealed in the simple calling of a name:

“Mary.” “Rabbi.” “My brothers.”

Amid the wreckage, Christ is risen. Life prevails. Liberation is loose in the world.

In this Easter season, this time of wonder that transforms our world,

In this Easter season, as we begin to emerge from the wreckage of pandemic

Our Liberator shows us how to live with eyes wide open

to see how the pandemic has changed the landscape

to lament what has been lost and broken

to witness the power of resurrection even in the wreckage,

especially in the wreckage.

Our Liberator strengthens us to live with ears wide open

to hear the pain and confusion of others

to hear their stories of freedom and transformation

to hear Jesus every time he calls us by name even in the wreckage,

especially in the wreckage.

Our Liberator delights for us to live with hearts and minds wide open

to celebrate how life goes on without demanding that it be the way it was before

to find beauty in the brokenness,

life amid the loss,

wonder in the old and in the new.

Christ is risen. Life is changed. We are free.

What will we do with our wild, wily and wonderful freedom?

A Word from Fr. Chip about the Easter Season

We made it! Easter is here and the sun is shining (most days anyways). And our Lord and Savior is risen from the dead!

Which is all well and good until I released the other day that I spent weeks slogging through the season of Lent only to end up on the day of Easter with a loud shout and then silence. 

That is not how it’s supposed to be! 

Easter is a season spreading across 50 days. That number is deliberately 10 more than the 40 days of Lent. Easter is a whole number of completeness greater than Lent. The celebration of our Lord’s triumph is more than the time we spent in preparation for it. 

Remembering that Easter is not one day, one service, or one moment can be life giving. We are called forward by our traditions in the church to spend almost 2 months in joy and celebration. You’ll hear Nick and I begin services with a cry of joy at Jesus’ resurrection throughout Easter. The shout of Alleluia is once again on our lips during the Eucharist. 

Just as we were called to prepare, we are now even more fully called into joy, hope, and celebration. 

Know that you are in my prayers this happy season and that as we live and breathe so too our Lord lives and breathes. Alleluia!

In Joy,

Fr. Chip

A letter from Fr. Nick about Life and Holy Week

Holy Scripture tells us that the fabric of the world fundamentally changed when Christ died on the cross. The natural world experienced earthquakes, and the manmade world saw signs such as the torn veil within the temple. Despite these tremors radiating out into the world, the mundane persisted. Thousands of miles away people still strived to scrap out a living from unforgiving soil, meals were being prepared, people fell in and out of love, and infants needed cleaning.

            We have gone to great efforts to tell the story of our salvation in how we keep time. Easter is not meant to be the anniversary of Christ’s death on the cross, so it is bound by how we tell the story through our liturgical seasons, not by an exact date. This means every year we are subject to a moving target of when we proclaim “Alleluia” from our long penitential season of Lent. We do a lot to make the season meaningful. We have special services, our Lenten programs countdown to our season of hope and joy, and we even color eggs, because that’s tradition and you don’t mess with tradition.

            In the background of all of these special events and traditions is the sound of normal day-to-day life. We’ve put a lot on hold in the office, but we all know that we still need to tackle building projects, and we need to prepare to regather in the Church, which takes a surprising amount of work. Outside of the office the world does not know that everything else is on hold. A crew is still working on our heating and cooling units, and I’m not sure if they plan on attending the Maundy Thursday service this evening.

            Another reminder that life continues in the midst of Holy Week arrived yesterday in the post. A letter that reads as if several thoughts, conversations, and heaps of anxiety were chopped up and tossed into a salad arrived, and it is overwhelmingly clear that someone needs help, but the how or even the who is a bit more mysterious and difficult to decipher. These don’t arrive often, but anyone who works in Churches has probably seen a few different versions of these letters. Churches, along with other places of worship and public libraries, are often a rare haven for the authors of these letters, and we should not divorce our response to them from our sacred season.

            Don’t get me wrong, we are not going to fix the world by showing a little bit of kindness. We are not saviors, but like the tremor or the torn veil on the day of Christ’s crucifixion, we can be signs of hope for a fallen world or a sign of the kingdom to come. Like the quaking ground or the torn veil, we can allow the reality of Christ’s death and resurrection change us, so others can see that things may not be what they seem. Many will recognize us as “the Church” for our Easter services and the baptisms, but I hope they will know that we are Christians by our love.

Blessings,

Nick

A Word from Fr. Chip about Holy Week

So this is it: The most important part of the calendar of remembrances in our church year. 

Holy Week is the collection of days beginning with Palm Sunday and running through Easter Day. It encompasses triumph, betrayal, humility, Holy sharing, deep fear, painful suffering, death, and after all creation trembled there is resurrection. 

The path we walk every year from the beginning to the end of Holy Week is a spiritual act of endurance. Can we really believe that all of this happened? Did Christ live and then die for our sins? Is the tomb empty on the third day? Could it be that God actually loves creation so much to do all these things?

If God does love us this much, what does that mean for our lives?

Even as we enter into these days together there is a part of living through Holy Week that each of us does on our own. 

God is within us in our faith. It’s a relationship and God is present and active in our souls each in unique ways. There is a place in these days of Holy Week for us to listen to God, to learn what God wills, and to respond to God’s love with love. 

I pray for us each to live into these coming days with humility and faith so that when the time comes we can stand together beside the empty tomb, rejoicing. 

In Peace,

Fr. Chip

The Shepherd’s Response Luke 2: 8-20

Well, it’s happened again! About a week ago I got fed up; fed up with what I was listening to on the car radio. Most of you know that I’m something of a political junkie, and this facet of my personality comes across when choosing what to tune into on the radio while driving. Frankly, given how distracted (and worked-up) I get from these talk-shows, it’s a miracle I haven’t driven off the road years ago.

Well, as I said, about a week ago I got fed up with all that. I turned the dial. Instantly, strains of Christmas carols were pumping through all ten speakers in my car. Being in a bad mood already, I was not pleased by this occurrence of yuletide messaging. All the usual objections flashed through my brain: “What? Christmas already? Thanksgiving hasn’t even had a chance to happen yet! Wow! Madison Ave. just can’t wait, can it? Why does THIS have to happen every year to a favorite music station?”

Strangely, though, I didn’t turn away. The music, and its message of hope and cheer was conquering my grumpiness. I was actually starting to feel good inside my head. My inner Grinch vanished, and all that was left for several minutes was a three-sizes-larger heart full of warmth and contentment.

Then it hit me: how you and I arrive at Christmas this year will depend entirely on how we respond to its message. Consider, for a moment, how the Shepherds responded to the message of that first Christmas. They didn’t have to respond as they did. It could have gone like this:

“When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another,” (Luke 2:8ff)

Shepherd #1. The Purely Emotional Response:

“Oh, wasn’t it wonderful! What a sight! The singing was beautiful!

The lights were super! Oh, I’ll remember this as long as I live!”

Shepherd #2. The Rationalist Response:

“It was just a unique astronomical phenomenon; the conjunction

of spheroids in the ionosphere accompanied by an amazing

display of sonic waves.”

Shepherd #3. The Psychological Response:

“This can all be explained by the high state of nervous tension

created by living in a time of pandemic fear, political unrest,

financial insecurity, and unfounded hopes of a rescuer.

Shepherd #4. The Pragmatic Response:

“So we saw some bright stars and heard some singing. We still

have sheep to take care of. The night’s only half over and so is

our shift. If there’s a baby in Bethlehem he’ll still be there in the

morning.”

Shepherd #5. The Indifferent Response:

“(Yawn). What’s all the fuss about? How do you expect me to

sleep with all this racket going on!”

Shepherd #6. The Faith Response:

“Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken

place, which the Lord has made known to us.”

Question #1: Which shepherd’s response comes the closest to our response?

Question #2: Which shepherd found the Savior in Bethlehem?

The Lord bless you as you prepare for the Advent/Christmas/Epiphany season ahead of us. May your worship be filled with celebration, your home glow with light and love, and your heart and spirit be lifted into joyous song and revelry at the Good News of everything that our Lord's birth means for us all.

GOD BLESS US, (and ours, and theirs, and all else's) EVERY ONE!

Peace,

Fr. Rick

A Word from Deacon Chip about Moments.

This week St. Luke’s got to rise in joy at the announcement of the Rev. Nick Hull being called as our next Priest-in-Charge. Its a moment in the life of our Parish that signals hope, life, and change. Many hours of work, prayers, and reflection by our search committee and Nick himself led to what we get to revel in now.

Anticipation can be maddening and wonderful. I know I felt that acutely on my wedding day. Knowing something good is just around the corner can make you sit up straighter or laugh longer.

All the while, there is still some time to wait.

Nick and his family will be joining St. Luke’s in the middle of January, a little less than two months from now.

I’m reflecting on that this week as we continue to receive news about the Covid pandemic, it’s resurgence and the promise of a vaccine that is highly effective. All signs point to having a viable way to immunize against this horrible disease and return to life together.

All the while remembering that it is still a ways off. There are moments of importance between then and now, both with Nick’s arrival and the vaccine.

Our nation will celebrate thankfulness this coming week. Advent arrives just after. Christmas, the celebration of our savior's birth, is at the end of December. Then, New Year's.

These moments are just as worthy of our joy at the moments we hope for beyond them, no matter how restricted our socialization may be.

My prayer is that we will continue to show Christ’s love through our actions of caring for each other, keeping each other safe by staying home, and living each of these moments in the joy they are worthy of.

In peace,

Rev. Deacon Chip Russell

A reflection from the Rt. Rev. Porter Taylor:  No Future Without Forgiveness

With the announcement that Joe Biden has enough electoral votes to be the President-Elect, some are joyous, and some are dejected. Some are laughing and some are weeping. All the emotions and reactions we feel are to be honored. Here's the thing: our work as followers of Jesus hasn't changed. Remember the promises in our Baptismal Covenant?

Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons loving your neighbor as yourself?

Yes, the configuration of our government matters because it has enormous ramifications. However, when we are baptized, we gain agency. We become Christ bearers and our task is to align ourselves with God so that we are available to be God's instruments to bring God's realm of justice, peace, and mercy near. I realized that since Election Day, I have not been present to the actual world around me. My focus is on what might happen instead of what actually is happening.

In Walden, Thoreau writes, "I have never met [a person] who was fully alive. How could I look [that person] in the face?" My hope is that I and all faithful people will wake from our preoccupation and distraction of the election and attend to the hopes, and joys, and hurts of the world right around us. "Today is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it." In other words, this is the only day we have, so let us be fully incarnated here and now and do the work God gives us to do wherever we are.

If we are to "seek and serve Christ in all persons," then we must let go of our preoccupation with what happened or didn't happen and embrace the world around us. A spiritual teacher when listening to one of his/her students go on and on about mystical theology would finally ask the person, "Yes, but where are your feet?" In other words, "Are you grounded in the here and now?" It's not enough to be wise about the universe if you are unkind or simply a jerk to your neighbors.

Perhaps it's time for us to attend to the events and people in front of us. Perhaps it's time to focus on this moment which is the only moment we have instead of what people should have done in the past or ought to do in the future. The present moment is the only place reconciliation happens.

There's a reason Desmond Tutu entitled his book about the struggle over South Africa's apartheid No Future Without Forgiveness. Until we find a way to reconcile, we will simply transfer the current division and acrimony to another subject. The doorway to forgiveness is to let go of a desired future and stop defining others by one act or one aspect of their lives.

Some time ago, I read an account of the 50th Anniversary of Gettysburg in 1913. The surviving soldiers from both sides dressed in their uniforms for a re-enactment of Pickett's Charge. The Union soldiers took their places on Seminary Ridge, and the Confederate soldiers stood on the farmland below. Instead of rifles and bayonets, they had canes and crutches. When the two armies approached one another, the Confederate army let out a rebel yell. However, instead of shooting or stabbing, they embraced. They put the past to rest -- they forgave -- and they stepped into new life.

Let us not wait fifty years or fifty days for the healing to start. Reconciliation is our calling; it's what we promised in baptism and it's time for us to embrace our calling.