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