During Monday’s morning assembly, the Trinity student body and staff saw for the second week in a row a dramatization of the Resurrection Day by one of the fifth grade classes. The week before, the sound system was not working and it was impossible to hear what the students were saying, so the teacher elected to show it again. Even with the microphones, the dialogue was indecipherable and the skit degraded to students running to the “tomb”, looking around puzzled, and then running back without any answer as to what was really going on. Reflecting on the awkward chaos, which contagiously spread through the seated children who also wanted to be running around, I realized that it was a much more likely interpretation of the events that occurred that first Easter morning than the controlled, organized, celebrations we mark the occasion with today. And yet out of that early morning disarray a revolutionary new covenant was made for all.
The teacher ended by reminding everyone that Easter is not just a one day holiday but a celebration over the next forty days, culminating in Ascension Day. She encouraged everyone to wish each other a happy Easter throughout that time, to commemorate the sacrifice that was made for us. So, as my turbulent life seems to be progressively settling around my May 19th departure, I am hoping to resurrect the blog for this last month as I begin to reflect on a year completed and prepare for a year to come. I will begin by wishing all of you a Happy Easter, even if we are two weeks in.
It has certainly been a busy time since I last wrote. The arrival of the mission team from Colorado that I first came to Honduras with coincided with my second cousin John’s stop over on his way home from kayak guiding in Costa Rica as well as my birthday in early March. John joined the missionaries and me that Saturday painting buildings and roofs at the Emilia D’Cuire School for Special Needs Children. John and I were able to combine our Eagle Scout ingenuity to successfully construct a cargo net for the children out of a 100 foot piece of marina rope, which had us both giddy with excitement when we realized it would actually work. We were rewarded with an evening of guacamole, steak fajitas, and Honduran cigars courtesy of the principle and her husband before John took off the next day to catch his flight out of San Pedro Sula.
My birthday presents from the team were two boxes of granola bars and a toaster oven. The granola bars were a reference to my lunch of choice (and necessity) last year as a ski boot repairman. Vail Resorts gives Nature Valley bars away at the ticket counter and I used to grab a handful on my way off the slopes before going into work to keep my food budget down. Needless to say, six months of eating 4-6 everyday became a little tiring. Last year on the mission trip, one of the team members found ways to hide granola bars in my bed, clothes, and even dinner just to make sure I did not lose my taste for them and so the birthday present continued that tradition. The toaster oven idea was leaked by my mother to the team. I had been complaining that I could not cook any of her recipes because they all required an oven, which my two-room apartment is not furnished with. I had been in the market for a toaster oven, but the team beat me to the punch, hauling it all the way down in a duffle bag. I would not call myself a master of the toaster oven just yet, but I have successfully baked a few dinners in it. The toast of course, could not be better. It was a great birthday. I would like to give a special thanks to Mrs. Ide, who has always written me wonderful birthday cards on behalf of the congregation and once again hit it out of the park. She does a wonderful ministry for St. James, and it is always something I look forward to.
The first annual science fair that the secondary students put on that week was a rousing success by all measures, though it had more than its fair shared of bumps along the way. My goal of avoiding the last minute panic and rush to finish projects a day the due date by setting weekly deadlines for the 6 week process were dashed and smashed by week 3 when the every deadline calendar I had handed out mysteriously and simultaneously vanished from the Earth. This meant a lot of handholding throughout the project and at times, I was completing more of the 18 projects than my students. With many of the projects stalling, I finally decided to create a cut off date for experimentation and as a consequence, the entire 7th grade and a few other less motivated groups who refused to even begin their investigations were given alternative assignments. They were disappointed, but I think they learned from the experience and will do better next time. Most importantly, it saved my head from explosion.
In the end, the move saved the assignment and the remaining kids jumped on board and started to do some solid, independent work. There were projects on rockets, catapults, trace fossils, paper airplanes, acid rain, and yeast fermentation to name a few. It was fun to see experiments and data collecting going on all over the school during lunch periods and after school. All at once, there was a collective realization among the students that this project was actually going to happen and they could do it. The students made posters, showing the steps they followed through the scientific method to test their hypotheses, and then gave oral presentations and peer evaluations to their classes before the big day.
Partly out of disorganization on my part and partly out of fear that the event might not even come to fruition if I set a firm date, I did not get invitations out early enough to parents so only a few came to see the Friday afternoon extravaganza. However, the Colorado team cleared their afternoon schedules and was a wonderful audience, walking around the auditorium, asking the students about their posters and projects, and taking pictures for me. I was blown away at how well the students did, talking with people they had only just met in English, answering tough questions and explaining their research with passion and clarity. I also invited the elementary students to come and visit, and they added to the electrifying, inquisitive atmosphere. I am hoping that it will get them excited about studying science at the secondary level, especially the incoming 7th grade class that has to make the decision of whether or not to continue with their education. It was a fantastic culmination of a long and difficult project and I was gratified to see the students making the most of the experience and showing how capable they are.
After the science fair, the rest of the third term flew by as everyone transitioned back to normal class mode, and I rushed to finish up chapters and get in tests before finals week arrived. Our finals ended and were followed by a week long vacation for Holy Week or Semana Santa. I decided to get out of town for a bit and took off for Utila, which is the smallest of the Bay Islands off the coast of Honduras that also includes the more touristy Roatan Island that is a frequent stop for cruise ships.
My buddy drove me on the back of his dirt bike to the port outside the city Monday morning. I jumped on the hour long ferry, arriving on the island around noon with a backpack and my dive card. I learned to scuba dive for a geology trip at Colby when I went to Bermuda for a week in January 2007, but I had not been since. As soon as I got off the ferry, with no reservations or plans, I was greeted by a local who brought me fifty yards through what I guess are two peoples back yards to a two story boarding house with chipping white paint. It had a long, covered porch with a couple hammocks hanging from the rafters and sat almost in the bay. Tethered to the uneven pier with planks missing was an old 1940s decommissioned anti-mine boat with faded sign in graffiti styling that said “Paradise Diving”. I knew I was in the right place. Within 30 minutes, I was 30 feet underwater, doing my warm up dive then exploring the reef. I stayed for four days and increased my certification to Advanced Open Water Diver. I made nine dives in total, including a wreck dive to a sunken freighter a hundred feet down and a night dive that was more like being in a disco with the thousands of bioluminescent plankton that lit up the reef as we swam around. During the evenings, I spent time exploring the little town (it only has one road) and hanging out with a fellow from Boston who was working to get his dive master certification. It was an awesome (and cheap) vacation, and it was tough to leave on Thursday afternoon.
Easter services at Holy Trinity on Sunday were momentous as a dozen parishioners were confirmed or received into the Episcopal Church by the bishop, including several of my students and one of the staff members. It was the first confirmation I had attended in years and it reminded me of my own at Saint Paul’s back in 6th grade. After the Eucharist I had the opportunity to eat lunch with the bishop at Veronica Flower’s house. Bishop Lloyd Allen is a powerful presence and a fascinating man, the first Honduran born bishop of the Honduran Diocese. This was the fourth time I had met with him. We talked about his biggest project right now: making the diocese completely self sustaining. In 2003, only 2% of the diocesan budget was covered by the Honduran parishes, almost all of the funding coming from the United States. In the interest of giving the church autonomy in choosing its rectors and setting its programming, protecting it from what will likely be large budgetary cuts in the United States, and most importantly reenergizing the church’s mission, he has undertaken the impressive and often unpopular task of redefining how the church runs itself and the roles of both ordained and lay people in the congregations. He has made significant headway, improving the Honduran budget contribution to over 53%, but concedes it will likely be a decade before it reaches total financial independence.
The next related obstacle is teaching people how to give to the church and take ownership of the church, both new necessities in the difficult financial climate. Besides increasing plate donations, one way Bishop Allen is addressing this is by improving the lay ministry training in Honduras. From both a financial and ministerial perspective, he sees it as the most efficient way to strengthen the existing membership and expand the churches reach, especially in rural areas that might not have enough congregants to support a full time rector. Father Joe Rhodes, a South Carolinian who has served as the spiritual advisor to the Colorado teams as well as other mission groups visiting Honduras for years, has committed to moving down to Honduras and heading up that educational initiative with his wife Tina beginning once his daughter graduates from high school next spring. It is an exciting step for the Episcopal Church here in Honduras that will hopefully allow the church to remain self sustaining and grow to fill the needs of more Hondurans. The church is lucky to have Bishop Allen at the helm.
Now I am focused on the fourth term and finding ways to squeeze in a couple more chapters while still keeping the students engaged. We have some field trips lined up for the students in the coming weeks to visit the jungle and the local universities so I am sure that will be a blast. It is hard to believe that I only have a month left in this school year. It has certainly flown by faster than I ever could have imagined. I am pleased with how far my students have gone and it will be sad to say good bye to Mike and Betty, who are finishing their tour of service as long term missionaries in Honduras. However, I am determined to celebrate and make the most out of every moment that I have left and build momentum for August when I get to start all over again. On May 19th when I fly out of San Pedro Sula, I won’t be traveling quite as high as Jesus did ascending into heaven. I can only be inspired by how much he accomplished in those 40 days and try to do the same, using my last month as a springboard into next year.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
A sermon preached April 18, 2010 (Easter 3 C) by the Rev. Frances A. Hills,Rector
Today’s readings include some long, complicated and wonderful stories about our Christian faith. They are stories about how, when and where Jesus showed up after the Tomb was Empty. Though the stories are all very different, they end up on a joyful note of praise that affirms who Jesus is.
First, the marvelous story from the Acts of the Apostles of Saul’s encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus. Now Saul is a Roman Zealot who persecutes Christians, (He’s the one who becomes the apostle Paul.) But all of a sudden he’s stopped in his tracks and struck blind by this voice of Jesus. By the end of the story he is converted, full of praise, and proclaiming Jesus as “The Son of God.”
Then in the reading from Revelation, which is about John of Patmos’ vision, the joyful note of praise we heard in Saul’s conversion story becomes a full-blown song of praise. It comes, not from human beings but from myriads of angels who call Jesus, “the Lamb who was slain.” The angels are joined in the praise and affirmation of Jesus by “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them.” They sing out, “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”
Finally, the reading from John’s Gospel is that wonderful story of Jesus’ third (fourth if you count Jesus' appearing to Mary Magdalene at the tomb) appearance to the disciples after his crucifixion. I can’t imagine what all they’d been thinking and feeling since Good Friday, and since Jesus had appeared to them the other times…Awed, bewildered, numb, lost, scared, rudderless (?). Eventually Simon Peter announces, “I am going fishing.” Maybe he thinks he’s going back to life as he’d known it—before Jesus. Six others join Peter, (perhaps all wanting to return to their pre-Jesus life?) but they have no luck…no fish. Then there’s this mysterious man on the beach. They admit to him they have no fish. Then the man suggests they cast nets on the right side of the boat. For some reason they do what he says. The nets fill, well past their capacity, but they don’t break! Then John, the beloved disciple, finally realizes…this man on the shore is the Lord! Then the story tells us they all knew it was Jesus as they shared a breakfast with him of campfire-cooked fish and bread. (Note the meal consisted of the two fish Jesus had already started to cook and some of the fish Jesus had empowered them to catch.)
No doubt it was a joyful time as they celebrated Jesus’ presence among them. I wonder if they thought they were going back to life as it was with Jesus, before Good Friday (?). But then, Jesus interrupts the happy moment, ups the stakes. He asks Peter three times if he loves him. Peter is emphatic, if frustrated by being asked so many times, “Yes, yes, yes…I love you!” Then Jesus tells him: In response to that love, he must feed and care for Jesus’ sheep.
God doesn’t just leave us in our joyful places where we know Jesus is in our midst. Our songs of joy and praise, our agape meals, even the Holy Eucharist are only a start. God calls us out, like Peter, from these blissful places, from our ordinary lives, to tend and feed those in need. Now I think this literally means those who don’t have enough food to eat. And at St. James we are faithful to this call through our ministry with the People’s Pantry, Breaking Bread Kitchen, Heifer Project and other programs. But I think Jesus’ call to tend, feed, and care goes well beyond literally feeding with food…I know there is loss and grief in our world that’s caused by broken systems, and natural disasters. And there’s also personal loss and grief in our very midst. God calls us to tend and care for those who grieve. To give them ears to listen, shoulders to cry on, and arms to embrace. But we’re also called to give the mind, heart, voice, and funds to work at fixing our world’s broken systems and to help with disaster relief. In addition, God calls us to tend and care for those who are sick, dying, or oppressed…Those around the world and those in our own families and cities. We do this through organizations like Heifer, ERD, Construct, South Berkshire Community Coalition, and through a certain missioner we know in Honduras.
Sometimes this work seems overwhelming, grim, even hopeless. It’s certainly not something overtly filled with the joy and praise, we heard throughout today’s scriptures . . . AND YET. . . That’s the very thing about Jesus’ appearances: He shows up at the darkest times/ the darnedest times. As the Psalm says...wailing can be turned to dancing. When Saul seemed to redouble his energy for going out and finding Christians to persecute…Jesus appeared to him, and showed him a better Way. And when the Disciples resigned themselves to go back to their “old way of life,” it didn’t work! They couldn’t catch any fish. They couldn’t feed themselves, themselves anymore. (They’d tasted a better food.) Yet in the midst of that darkness, Jesus appears and not only feeds them, but asks them to feed others.
In the midst of times that seem the darkest, we may be tempted to think God is not there. God must have abandoned us. However, what Jesus does is contrary to that…Jesus shows up at the darkest times. By extension I think he calls us to show up at the darkest times, when people are hungry, when people are hurting, when people are grieving, when people are oppressed. ANYTIME God’s sheep need feeding or tending, we’re called to be there, trusting the fish God supplies and bringing some of our own fish that God has empowered us to catch.
There are situations in which others think God is absent. They ask, “How could God have let this happen?” Or “What kind of God would do this?" Or they may decide, “There is no God.” In the face of such questions and doubt, our love and concern for others can stand as a gentle presence that says “not so” to these questions & doubts. Our love and concern can do this…WE KNOW THAT! But sometimes it just can’t do that, and we have to let people go. However, even at the times when our love and concern do not seem effective, we can trust God’s love and concern are ultimately and perfectly effective.
So no matter what happens, we’re called to be faithful—To be that gentle presence that consistently tends, cares, and feeds. We can do this because we know who Jesus is. We know he is with us in the darkness. And we know he is risen indeed! Amen.
First, the marvelous story from the Acts of the Apostles of Saul’s encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus. Now Saul is a Roman Zealot who persecutes Christians, (He’s the one who becomes the apostle Paul.) But all of a sudden he’s stopped in his tracks and struck blind by this voice of Jesus. By the end of the story he is converted, full of praise, and proclaiming Jesus as “The Son of God.”
Then in the reading from Revelation, which is about John of Patmos’ vision, the joyful note of praise we heard in Saul’s conversion story becomes a full-blown song of praise. It comes, not from human beings but from myriads of angels who call Jesus, “the Lamb who was slain.” The angels are joined in the praise and affirmation of Jesus by “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them.” They sing out, “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”
Finally, the reading from John’s Gospel is that wonderful story of Jesus’ third (fourth if you count Jesus' appearing to Mary Magdalene at the tomb) appearance to the disciples after his crucifixion. I can’t imagine what all they’d been thinking and feeling since Good Friday, and since Jesus had appeared to them the other times…Awed, bewildered, numb, lost, scared, rudderless (?). Eventually Simon Peter announces, “I am going fishing.” Maybe he thinks he’s going back to life as he’d known it—before Jesus. Six others join Peter, (perhaps all wanting to return to their pre-Jesus life?) but they have no luck…no fish. Then there’s this mysterious man on the beach. They admit to him they have no fish. Then the man suggests they cast nets on the right side of the boat. For some reason they do what he says. The nets fill, well past their capacity, but they don’t break! Then John, the beloved disciple, finally realizes…this man on the shore is the Lord! Then the story tells us they all knew it was Jesus as they shared a breakfast with him of campfire-cooked fish and bread. (Note the meal consisted of the two fish Jesus had already started to cook and some of the fish Jesus had empowered them to catch.)
No doubt it was a joyful time as they celebrated Jesus’ presence among them. I wonder if they thought they were going back to life as it was with Jesus, before Good Friday (?). But then, Jesus interrupts the happy moment, ups the stakes. He asks Peter three times if he loves him. Peter is emphatic, if frustrated by being asked so many times, “Yes, yes, yes…I love you!” Then Jesus tells him: In response to that love, he must feed and care for Jesus’ sheep.
God doesn’t just leave us in our joyful places where we know Jesus is in our midst. Our songs of joy and praise, our agape meals, even the Holy Eucharist are only a start. God calls us out, like Peter, from these blissful places, from our ordinary lives, to tend and feed those in need. Now I think this literally means those who don’t have enough food to eat. And at St. James we are faithful to this call through our ministry with the People’s Pantry, Breaking Bread Kitchen, Heifer Project and other programs. But I think Jesus’ call to tend, feed, and care goes well beyond literally feeding with food…I know there is loss and grief in our world that’s caused by broken systems, and natural disasters. And there’s also personal loss and grief in our very midst. God calls us to tend and care for those who grieve. To give them ears to listen, shoulders to cry on, and arms to embrace. But we’re also called to give the mind, heart, voice, and funds to work at fixing our world’s broken systems and to help with disaster relief. In addition, God calls us to tend and care for those who are sick, dying, or oppressed…Those around the world and those in our own families and cities. We do this through organizations like Heifer, ERD, Construct, South Berkshire Community Coalition, and through a certain missioner we know in Honduras.
Sometimes this work seems overwhelming, grim, even hopeless. It’s certainly not something overtly filled with the joy and praise, we heard throughout today’s scriptures . . . AND YET. . . That’s the very thing about Jesus’ appearances: He shows up at the darkest times/ the darnedest times. As the Psalm says...wailing can be turned to dancing. When Saul seemed to redouble his energy for going out and finding Christians to persecute…Jesus appeared to him, and showed him a better Way. And when the Disciples resigned themselves to go back to their “old way of life,” it didn’t work! They couldn’t catch any fish. They couldn’t feed themselves, themselves anymore. (They’d tasted a better food.) Yet in the midst of that darkness, Jesus appears and not only feeds them, but asks them to feed others.
In the midst of times that seem the darkest, we may be tempted to think God is not there. God must have abandoned us. However, what Jesus does is contrary to that…Jesus shows up at the darkest times. By extension I think he calls us to show up at the darkest times, when people are hungry, when people are hurting, when people are grieving, when people are oppressed. ANYTIME God’s sheep need feeding or tending, we’re called to be there, trusting the fish God supplies and bringing some of our own fish that God has empowered us to catch.
There are situations in which others think God is absent. They ask, “How could God have let this happen?” Or “What kind of God would do this?" Or they may decide, “There is no God.” In the face of such questions and doubt, our love and concern for others can stand as a gentle presence that says “not so” to these questions & doubts. Our love and concern can do this…WE KNOW THAT! But sometimes it just can’t do that, and we have to let people go. However, even at the times when our love and concern do not seem effective, we can trust God’s love and concern are ultimately and perfectly effective.
So no matter what happens, we’re called to be faithful—To be that gentle presence that consistently tends, cares, and feeds. We can do this because we know who Jesus is. We know he is with us in the darkness. And we know he is risen indeed! Amen.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Sermon Preached April 11, 2010 (Easter 2 C) by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Is your life different today? Is it radically different from eight days ago—Before Easter? Has the Good News of Jesus’ conquering sin and death changed you? Has the fact Jesus washes away your sins and breathes his Spirit in you at baptism made you a different person? Are you now a person who is more just and who helps bring in the Kingdom of God?
Where is your faith these days? How do you embody it? One thing that’s clear in the Gospel of John is that the disciples—Jesus’ first followers—were all over the map in their different types and levels of faith. Some faith is based on seeing signs and some faith needs no signs. There’s weak faith and strong faith. There’s shallow faith and deep faith. There’s faith that’s growing and maturing and faith that’s faltering.
In the Gospel of John, faith is not just a decision we make once for all. It’s a decision we make in every new situation. For example, we make a decision every time we come up against the powers of the status quo that favor the rich and oppress the poor. These are powers that are not of the Kingdom of God.
Look at Thomas. Now here’s a disciple who was courageous, spiritually wise, and devoted to Jesus. The tradition says he was the first Christian missionary to India. Perhaps he even wrote a book about Jesus called The Gospel of Thomas. But Thomas needed to see and touch Jesus’ wounds in order to believe. His faith journey was ready to go to a deeper level. But ever since then we’ve called him “doubting Thomas” and often see this somehow as a bad thing. But look at the other disciples in the Gospel of John. The beloved disciple believed something (but we don’t know what) with no evidence, except an empty tomb. Mary Magdalene believed because a man called her by name and she knew his voice. Ten disciples believed because they saw the risen Jesus. Thomas struggled some. He’d missed the other experiences and needed some physical proof. I don’t think Jesus faults him for this.
For some, faith comes gently and easily. For others of us, we struggle and wrestle with doubt. It was true then, and it’s true now…Faith comes in all shapes and sizes, and one is not necessarily better than the other.
Where is your faith today? How do you embody it? Does it matter in your life that Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit into his disciples. He did it that day in the house, when he came through the locked doors and appeared to the 11 disciples. He does it each time one of us is baptized…“You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” He also does it over and over again in our everyday lives in an infinite number of ways. Jesus comes to us, appears to us, gives us Peace, bestows the Holy Spirit on our community, then sends us forth. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
We are now his hands and feet. His wounds. We are the voice of his forgiveness, his healing touch, and his word that speaks out when people are oppressed by the powerful. We are this now, and we come to know him more and more as we go about continuing his work in the world. We are now members of his body and that’s not like being a member of a book club or soccer team. It’s like being, in fact, one of Jesus’ limbs…an arm, a leg, a hand or foot. We are his only hands and feet now. We are Christ to this sinful and broken world! We are the ones to spread peace. To spread Good News. To bring in God’s Kingdom. So what’s it like to be surrounded by Jesus this morning? Just look around at your brothers and sisters here…It’s enough to change you!
Jesus knows we’re not all in the same place spiritually. For some faith is easy, and for some it’s hard. But no matter where we are in our faith journeys, he has died for us, saved us, given us forgiveness and ultimate Peace. And by breathing the Holy Spirit into us, he has SENT US FORTH changed…To spread that Peace and forgiveness…To spread God’s justice.
How do you personally/how do we at St. James spread God’s Peace, Forgiveness & Justice? What particular member of Christ’s body are you/we as a community? A contemporary spiritual director wrote,
“He still comes in everydayness. He still says, See my hands and my feet. Don’t avert your eyes from my wounds out of politeness or disgust. Look at them. Put your finger here. Don’t be afraid. Remember the incarnation. I came among you first in human flesh—flesh that can be hungry and fed, flesh that can be hurt, even killed. Flesh that can embody God’s love. He comes among us still, mediated through human flesh. See his hands, his side. Touch him, and see.”
(Margaret Gunther, Christian Century, April 12, 2004)
What happens when one of us/or when we as a community, like Thomas, gets to the point of recognizing the risen Christ, of calling him “My Lord and My God,” and of living our lives in a way that shows we really believe it? What happens is—We’re CHANGED. Our lives are radically different. We know we’re forgiven. We know that Jesus died and rose again for us. He conquered the powers of evil and oppression. We know we are his hands and feet. We’re here to spread God’s Kingdom. And empowered by God’s SPIRIT, we have LIFE and give LIFE in his name. Amen.
Where is your faith these days? How do you embody it? One thing that’s clear in the Gospel of John is that the disciples—Jesus’ first followers—were all over the map in their different types and levels of faith. Some faith is based on seeing signs and some faith needs no signs. There’s weak faith and strong faith. There’s shallow faith and deep faith. There’s faith that’s growing and maturing and faith that’s faltering.
In the Gospel of John, faith is not just a decision we make once for all. It’s a decision we make in every new situation. For example, we make a decision every time we come up against the powers of the status quo that favor the rich and oppress the poor. These are powers that are not of the Kingdom of God.
Look at Thomas. Now here’s a disciple who was courageous, spiritually wise, and devoted to Jesus. The tradition says he was the first Christian missionary to India. Perhaps he even wrote a book about Jesus called The Gospel of Thomas. But Thomas needed to see and touch Jesus’ wounds in order to believe. His faith journey was ready to go to a deeper level. But ever since then we’ve called him “doubting Thomas” and often see this somehow as a bad thing. But look at the other disciples in the Gospel of John. The beloved disciple believed something (but we don’t know what) with no evidence, except an empty tomb. Mary Magdalene believed because a man called her by name and she knew his voice. Ten disciples believed because they saw the risen Jesus. Thomas struggled some. He’d missed the other experiences and needed some physical proof. I don’t think Jesus faults him for this.
For some, faith comes gently and easily. For others of us, we struggle and wrestle with doubt. It was true then, and it’s true now…Faith comes in all shapes and sizes, and one is not necessarily better than the other.
Where is your faith today? How do you embody it? Does it matter in your life that Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit into his disciples. He did it that day in the house, when he came through the locked doors and appeared to the 11 disciples. He does it each time one of us is baptized…“You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.” He also does it over and over again in our everyday lives in an infinite number of ways. Jesus comes to us, appears to us, gives us Peace, bestows the Holy Spirit on our community, then sends us forth. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”
We are now his hands and feet. His wounds. We are the voice of his forgiveness, his healing touch, and his word that speaks out when people are oppressed by the powerful. We are this now, and we come to know him more and more as we go about continuing his work in the world. We are now members of his body and that’s not like being a member of a book club or soccer team. It’s like being, in fact, one of Jesus’ limbs…an arm, a leg, a hand or foot. We are his only hands and feet now. We are Christ to this sinful and broken world! We are the ones to spread peace. To spread Good News. To bring in God’s Kingdom. So what’s it like to be surrounded by Jesus this morning? Just look around at your brothers and sisters here…It’s enough to change you!
Jesus knows we’re not all in the same place spiritually. For some faith is easy, and for some it’s hard. But no matter where we are in our faith journeys, he has died for us, saved us, given us forgiveness and ultimate Peace. And by breathing the Holy Spirit into us, he has SENT US FORTH changed…To spread that Peace and forgiveness…To spread God’s justice.
How do you personally/how do we at St. James spread God’s Peace, Forgiveness & Justice? What particular member of Christ’s body are you/we as a community? A contemporary spiritual director wrote,
“He still comes in everydayness. He still says, See my hands and my feet. Don’t avert your eyes from my wounds out of politeness or disgust. Look at them. Put your finger here. Don’t be afraid. Remember the incarnation. I came among you first in human flesh—flesh that can be hungry and fed, flesh that can be hurt, even killed. Flesh that can embody God’s love. He comes among us still, mediated through human flesh. See his hands, his side. Touch him, and see.”
(Margaret Gunther, Christian Century, April 12, 2004)
What happens when one of us/or when we as a community, like Thomas, gets to the point of recognizing the risen Christ, of calling him “My Lord and My God,” and of living our lives in a way that shows we really believe it? What happens is—We’re CHANGED. Our lives are radically different. We know we’re forgiven. We know that Jesus died and rose again for us. He conquered the powers of evil and oppression. We know we are his hands and feet. We’re here to spread God’s Kingdom. And empowered by God’s SPIRIT, we have LIFE and give LIFE in his name. Amen.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
A Sermon preached Easter Day C 2010 by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Over the centuries in art, music, literature and film, people have speculated about Mary Magdalene’s relationship with Jesus. The Bible makes it clear she was part of his inner circle. And, in spite of what the tradition has invented, there’s nothing in the Bible that says she’s a woman of ill-repute. The Bible does say she is a troubled person, and Jesus accepts her, values her company, and heals her of many demons. We can imagine how grateful she is to him. How much she loves him. They are close.
So just imagine how she’s feeling that morning. Confused. Exhausted. Heavy with grief. Bereft of this man she loved. She comes to anoint his body for burial, to touch him again (even in death), but he’s gone! Missing! And then, what was it like to hear him say her name. To see him. To so long to hold him. But to be told “No.” “Don’t touch”. Here’s poet Janet Morley’s take on this scene:
It was unfinished.
We stayed there, fixed, until the end,
women waiting for the body that we loved;
and then it was unfinished.
There was no time to cherish, cleanse, anoint;
no time to handle him with love,
no farewell.
Since then, my hands have waited,
aching to touch even his deadness,
smoothe oil into bruises that no longer hurt,
offer his silent flesh my finished act of love.
I came early, as the darkness lifted,
to find the grave ripped open and his body gone;
container of my grief smashed, looted,
leaving my hands still empty,
I turned on the man who came:
‘They have taken away my Lord—where is his corpse?
Where is the body that is mine to greet?
He is not gone
I am not ready yet, I am not finished—
I cannot let him go.
I am not whole.’
And then he spoke, no corpse,
and breathed,
and offered me my name.
My hands rushed to grasp him;
to hold and hug and grip his body close;
to give myself again, to cling to him,
and lose my self in love.
‘Don’t touch me now.’
I stopped, and waited, my rejected passion
hovering between us like some dying thing.
I Mary, stood and grieved, and then departed.
I have a gospel to proclaim.
(All Desires Known: Prayers Uniting Faith and Feminism, “They have taken away my lord,” p. 54.)
“I have a gospel to proclaim.” “I have a gospel to proclaim.” And so Mary, the first witness to the Risen Lord, is charged by him to go and tell the others. Mary Magdalene, this grieving, bewildered woman, who loved him so, realizes it’s not about clinging on to what was in the past. The joy of His earthly company. His teaching. His care. Now it’s about telling everyone…He Lives! God’s love is stronger than sin, violence, and death. This is Resurrection Power! Now it’s time for Mary to let the world know that the compassionate, healing love of God can and will overcome anything.
Mary had this Gospel to proclaim. And we have this Gospel to proclaim! It’s about the times in our lives when we have been at a place, not unlike Mary Magdalene’s, when all has seemed hopeless. Dark. Powerless. When we cannot do it ourselves anymore. When our trying gets us nowhere. When we cannot see a way forward. When we need our demons cast out. When we finally have to surrender—admit our powerlessness, our vulnerability—and collapse into the arms of the One who stretched his out in total powerlessness that we might come within the reach of his saving embrace.
Maybe this time of surrender in our lives has come as we’ve sat at the bedside of one we dearly love and had to let them die. Maybe it’s when we’ve had to let go of the dream of a child when it cannot be conceived or is not viable. Maybe it’s when the one we love is addicted to something, and we finally have to say that we cannot continue in that relationship, the one we’d vowed to stay in for life. Maybe it’s when the hopes and dreams we’ve had about our career have to be let go of in the face of reality. I know you can all add to this list.
These are the dark times. The helpless times. The times we need healing. And it is to save us from the hopelessness of these that Jesus, in the most powerless and vulnerable of all postures, stretches out his arms of love to us. And at that point, he doesn’t say, “Don’t touch me.” He says, “Come. Let me embrace you.” And so we discover New Life—the peace our loved one finds in death. A certain completeness about their life, and eventually peace for ourselves. We discover the great blessing and gift spending those last days with them was to us. We come to know deeply: Their life is changed, not ended. It’s Resurrection Power! Or we discover Jesus embraces us when we, who have no children, discover God has other ways of blessing us and giving us little ones to nurture and teach and love.
And when we have to leave a chaotic relationship, we discover God comforts our lives with deep peace and serenity and friends who become our family. We discover when we miss a rung on that steep career ladder and have to go down a few notches, God can be there as well (even in that!), restoring us, reordering our lives in ways that are more fulfilling. It’s Resurrection Power!
In all these, we, like Mary, have seen the Lord! These are our resurrection stories! And, having known those dark places, and admitted our powerlessness to the God who’s power is made perfect in weakness, then we, like Mary, are empowered not just to cling to him for comfort, but to spread the Word…The Good News of our stories! In these it’s become very clear to us personally that HE IS RISEN! We too have seen the Lord! It’s Resurrection Power in our very lives!
So we, like Mary Magdalene, on this glorious Easter morning, have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim…
So let’s do it…
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! Amen.
So just imagine how she’s feeling that morning. Confused. Exhausted. Heavy with grief. Bereft of this man she loved. She comes to anoint his body for burial, to touch him again (even in death), but he’s gone! Missing! And then, what was it like to hear him say her name. To see him. To so long to hold him. But to be told “No.” “Don’t touch”. Here’s poet Janet Morley’s take on this scene:
It was unfinished.
We stayed there, fixed, until the end,
women waiting for the body that we loved;
and then it was unfinished.
There was no time to cherish, cleanse, anoint;
no time to handle him with love,
no farewell.
Since then, my hands have waited,
aching to touch even his deadness,
smoothe oil into bruises that no longer hurt,
offer his silent flesh my finished act of love.
I came early, as the darkness lifted,
to find the grave ripped open and his body gone;
container of my grief smashed, looted,
leaving my hands still empty,
I turned on the man who came:
‘They have taken away my Lord—where is his corpse?
Where is the body that is mine to greet?
He is not gone
I am not ready yet, I am not finished—
I cannot let him go.
I am not whole.’
And then he spoke, no corpse,
and breathed,
and offered me my name.
My hands rushed to grasp him;
to hold and hug and grip his body close;
to give myself again, to cling to him,
and lose my self in love.
‘Don’t touch me now.’
I stopped, and waited, my rejected passion
hovering between us like some dying thing.
I Mary, stood and grieved, and then departed.
I have a gospel to proclaim.
(All Desires Known: Prayers Uniting Faith and Feminism, “They have taken away my lord,” p. 54.)
“I have a gospel to proclaim.” “I have a gospel to proclaim.” And so Mary, the first witness to the Risen Lord, is charged by him to go and tell the others. Mary Magdalene, this grieving, bewildered woman, who loved him so, realizes it’s not about clinging on to what was in the past. The joy of His earthly company. His teaching. His care. Now it’s about telling everyone…He Lives! God’s love is stronger than sin, violence, and death. This is Resurrection Power! Now it’s time for Mary to let the world know that the compassionate, healing love of God can and will overcome anything.
Mary had this Gospel to proclaim. And we have this Gospel to proclaim! It’s about the times in our lives when we have been at a place, not unlike Mary Magdalene’s, when all has seemed hopeless. Dark. Powerless. When we cannot do it ourselves anymore. When our trying gets us nowhere. When we cannot see a way forward. When we need our demons cast out. When we finally have to surrender—admit our powerlessness, our vulnerability—and collapse into the arms of the One who stretched his out in total powerlessness that we might come within the reach of his saving embrace.
Maybe this time of surrender in our lives has come as we’ve sat at the bedside of one we dearly love and had to let them die. Maybe it’s when we’ve had to let go of the dream of a child when it cannot be conceived or is not viable. Maybe it’s when the one we love is addicted to something, and we finally have to say that we cannot continue in that relationship, the one we’d vowed to stay in for life. Maybe it’s when the hopes and dreams we’ve had about our career have to be let go of in the face of reality. I know you can all add to this list.
These are the dark times. The helpless times. The times we need healing. And it is to save us from the hopelessness of these that Jesus, in the most powerless and vulnerable of all postures, stretches out his arms of love to us. And at that point, he doesn’t say, “Don’t touch me.” He says, “Come. Let me embrace you.” And so we discover New Life—the peace our loved one finds in death. A certain completeness about their life, and eventually peace for ourselves. We discover the great blessing and gift spending those last days with them was to us. We come to know deeply: Their life is changed, not ended. It’s Resurrection Power! Or we discover Jesus embraces us when we, who have no children, discover God has other ways of blessing us and giving us little ones to nurture and teach and love.
And when we have to leave a chaotic relationship, we discover God comforts our lives with deep peace and serenity and friends who become our family. We discover when we miss a rung on that steep career ladder and have to go down a few notches, God can be there as well (even in that!), restoring us, reordering our lives in ways that are more fulfilling. It’s Resurrection Power!
In all these, we, like Mary, have seen the Lord! These are our resurrection stories! And, having known those dark places, and admitted our powerlessness to the God who’s power is made perfect in weakness, then we, like Mary, are empowered not just to cling to him for comfort, but to spread the Word…The Good News of our stories! In these it’s become very clear to us personally that HE IS RISEN! We too have seen the Lord! It’s Resurrection Power in our very lives!
So we, like Mary Magdalene, on this glorious Easter morning, have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim!
We have a Gospel to proclaim…
So let’s do it…
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! Amen.
A Sermon Preached at the Easter Vigil 2010 at St. George’s Episcopal Church, Lee, MA by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector St. James’ Great Barrington, MA
The Exsultet (so beautifully chanted tonight by Ian) tells us our story:
This is the night when God brought our forbearers out of bondage in Egypt.
The night when all who believe in Jesus are freed from sin and restored to grace.
The night when Christ broke the bonds of death and rose victorious from the grave.
On this Night of Nights as we’re all gathered together here at St. George, I want us to hear a poem by Ann Weems. It’s called, “The Story and the Child.”
The child comes,
and we dye eggs
and make a cake
and decorate.
“Why are we doing this?”
he asks.
“Because,” I answer,
“Life is about to happen,
and on Sunday morning
we’ll catch stars.”
He looks at me,
quizzically at first,
and then grins.
It’s then I ask him
to tell me the story.
The only way he’ll learn
is to tell it himself.
The only way we’ll learn
is to tell it again . . .
and again . . . to the child.
Tonight we’re telling the story, as we tell it year after year on this night. It’s the story of Salvation History. It’s the love story between God and God’s people. Someone said that “God just loves stories, that’s why God made people!” This story is one we tell a bit of every week at church as we hear the lessons, sing the hymns, and reflect on their meaning. But at the Easter Vigil, we hear more of the story. And we start with the beginning. The Creation, when God makes all things. and makes them all GOOD. Then we move to that really essential and core story of the Easter Vigil…The Crossing of the Red Sea. It’s when God’s people leave the slavery of Egypt and move into the freedom and challenges of the Wilderness.Then comes The Valley of the Dry Bones. In his vision, the Prophet Ezekiel sees bones coming together—enfleshed, breathing! Those who have died live again!
And finally we hear the story of The Gathering of God’s People. After years of exile in Babylon, God’s people return to their beloved Jerusalem. The Prophet Zephaniah reminds them of their need for religious renewal…not pie-in-the-sky, otherworldly renewal. It’s the renewal of this world he’s concerned with so that it reflects God’s vision of peace, justice, and freedom from oppression. It’s a world where God may sing because God’s people are singing!
Hopefully in the midst of all these ancient stories, we realize they are our stories as well. They tell us why we were created. How we too can get bound up in slavery to a variety of things…addictions, and how God can free us of that. They tell us how God can guide us through the wilderness. How at times we may feel like a bag of useless bones. Dried up. Living but partly living. Then God can breathe New Life into us, so that gathered together, we can help renew the world and bring in God’s reign on earth. These are YOUR stories and MY stories—All bound up together with God’s on-going love story.
And in the midst of all our stories tonight is THE CANDLE. The Paschal Candle. It is a central symbol of the Easter Season. In the Exsultet Ian sang, “All you who stand by this marvelous and holy flame, pray with me to God the almighty, For the grace to sing the worthy praise of this great light.” In its own way, the Paschal Candle tells God’s Story /Our Story as well.
The name of this candle certainly gives us a clue about the stories it symbolizes, as “Paschal” means “Passover.” It reminds us of when the Angel of Death was sent to slay all first-born male children in Egypt. Then the Angel passed over the sons of the Hebrew slaves because they were God’s chosen people. And so to this day, our brothers and sisters who are Jewish celebrate the Feast of the Passover during the same time we Christians celebrate Easter, because, according to the Gospels, the first Holy Week occurred during the Passover.
The Paschal Candle also reminds us of when God helped the Hebrew people pass over the wilderness, leading them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
The Candle is a central reminder of Easter, when Jesus passed over from the death of Good Friday to the life of Easter. And so we’ll burn the candle for the 50 days of the Easter season.
We also burn this candle when we baptize someone into the body of Christ. At baptism, we pass over from our old life into our new life with Jesus. “We are buried with Christ in his death and raised with him in his glorious resurrection.” We share in his Resurrection Power!
Finally we burn the Paschal Candle at funerals. It reminds us of our Christian hope: The person has passed over from mortal death into the eternal life God promises through Jesus’ death and resurrection.
So as we “Sing the worthy praise of this great light,” I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am personally to see this white, bright, sturdy, straight Paschal Candle here at St. George’s this evening. A few weeks ago when I was in the St. James’ building with our Insurance Broker, I noticed our Paschal Candle had melted and bent over. It had come to rest, in fact, on the credence shelf right by the baptismal font. It was hard to look at that helpless Paschal Candle…all melted and bent over…because of all the things it symbolizes, all the things I’ve been speaking about tonight. The candle symbolically embodies the sacred stories, and it helps us tell the story over and over again.
Whenever someone is baptized, their stories are added to The Story, and so The Story is changed, because we’ve added a page and we tell it in a new way. That’s why it’s so important for the children in the congregation to gather around the font at a baptism and to stand in the light of the Paschal Candle. That way, they can see the story as it unfolds. And as the new lines are written, they can start telling the story themselves.
On this holy night, “When wickedness is put to flight and sins are washed away,” we renewed our Baptismal Vows. By doing that, our personal life stories, and our stories as community, began a new chapter in The Story of Salvation History. It’s the story that matters, and we do have our stories! We’ve told them tonight.
We’ve added to them tonight. We’re empowered by them tonight. It’s the story that matters, and a melted candle cannot take that away!
So as we dye our eggs and decorate our cakes, because (the Easter) “Life is about to happen,” let’s teach our children to tell the story as we tell the story to them…over and over again. So that as we leave here tonight and wake in the morning, we too will “catch stars” and share in Christ’s Resurrection Power! Amen.
This is the night when God brought our forbearers out of bondage in Egypt.
The night when all who believe in Jesus are freed from sin and restored to grace.
The night when Christ broke the bonds of death and rose victorious from the grave.
On this Night of Nights as we’re all gathered together here at St. George, I want us to hear a poem by Ann Weems. It’s called, “The Story and the Child.”
The child comes,
and we dye eggs
and make a cake
and decorate.
“Why are we doing this?”
he asks.
“Because,” I answer,
“Life is about to happen,
and on Sunday morning
we’ll catch stars.”
He looks at me,
quizzically at first,
and then grins.
It’s then I ask him
to tell me the story.
The only way he’ll learn
is to tell it himself.
The only way we’ll learn
is to tell it again . . .
and again . . . to the child.
Tonight we’re telling the story, as we tell it year after year on this night. It’s the story of Salvation History. It’s the love story between God and God’s people. Someone said that “God just loves stories, that’s why God made people!” This story is one we tell a bit of every week at church as we hear the lessons, sing the hymns, and reflect on their meaning. But at the Easter Vigil, we hear more of the story. And we start with the beginning. The Creation, when God makes all things. and makes them all GOOD. Then we move to that really essential and core story of the Easter Vigil…The Crossing of the Red Sea. It’s when God’s people leave the slavery of Egypt and move into the freedom and challenges of the Wilderness.Then comes The Valley of the Dry Bones. In his vision, the Prophet Ezekiel sees bones coming together—enfleshed, breathing! Those who have died live again!
And finally we hear the story of The Gathering of God’s People. After years of exile in Babylon, God’s people return to their beloved Jerusalem. The Prophet Zephaniah reminds them of their need for religious renewal…not pie-in-the-sky, otherworldly renewal. It’s the renewal of this world he’s concerned with so that it reflects God’s vision of peace, justice, and freedom from oppression. It’s a world where God may sing because God’s people are singing!
Hopefully in the midst of all these ancient stories, we realize they are our stories as well. They tell us why we were created. How we too can get bound up in slavery to a variety of things…addictions, and how God can free us of that. They tell us how God can guide us through the wilderness. How at times we may feel like a bag of useless bones. Dried up. Living but partly living. Then God can breathe New Life into us, so that gathered together, we can help renew the world and bring in God’s reign on earth. These are YOUR stories and MY stories—All bound up together with God’s on-going love story.
And in the midst of all our stories tonight is THE CANDLE. The Paschal Candle. It is a central symbol of the Easter Season. In the Exsultet Ian sang, “All you who stand by this marvelous and holy flame, pray with me to God the almighty, For the grace to sing the worthy praise of this great light.” In its own way, the Paschal Candle tells God’s Story /Our Story as well.
The name of this candle certainly gives us a clue about the stories it symbolizes, as “Paschal” means “Passover.” It reminds us of when the Angel of Death was sent to slay all first-born male children in Egypt. Then the Angel passed over the sons of the Hebrew slaves because they were God’s chosen people. And so to this day, our brothers and sisters who are Jewish celebrate the Feast of the Passover during the same time we Christians celebrate Easter, because, according to the Gospels, the first Holy Week occurred during the Passover.
The Paschal Candle also reminds us of when God helped the Hebrew people pass over the wilderness, leading them with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
The Candle is a central reminder of Easter, when Jesus passed over from the death of Good Friday to the life of Easter. And so we’ll burn the candle for the 50 days of the Easter season.
We also burn this candle when we baptize someone into the body of Christ. At baptism, we pass over from our old life into our new life with Jesus. “We are buried with Christ in his death and raised with him in his glorious resurrection.” We share in his Resurrection Power!
Finally we burn the Paschal Candle at funerals. It reminds us of our Christian hope: The person has passed over from mortal death into the eternal life God promises through Jesus’ death and resurrection.
So as we “Sing the worthy praise of this great light,” I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am personally to see this white, bright, sturdy, straight Paschal Candle here at St. George’s this evening. A few weeks ago when I was in the St. James’ building with our Insurance Broker, I noticed our Paschal Candle had melted and bent over. It had come to rest, in fact, on the credence shelf right by the baptismal font. It was hard to look at that helpless Paschal Candle…all melted and bent over…because of all the things it symbolizes, all the things I’ve been speaking about tonight. The candle symbolically embodies the sacred stories, and it helps us tell the story over and over again.
Whenever someone is baptized, their stories are added to The Story, and so The Story is changed, because we’ve added a page and we tell it in a new way. That’s why it’s so important for the children in the congregation to gather around the font at a baptism and to stand in the light of the Paschal Candle. That way, they can see the story as it unfolds. And as the new lines are written, they can start telling the story themselves.
On this holy night, “When wickedness is put to flight and sins are washed away,” we renewed our Baptismal Vows. By doing that, our personal life stories, and our stories as community, began a new chapter in The Story of Salvation History. It’s the story that matters, and we do have our stories! We’ve told them tonight.
We’ve added to them tonight. We’re empowered by them tonight. It’s the story that matters, and a melted candle cannot take that away!
So as we dye our eggs and decorate our cakes, because (the Easter) “Life is about to happen,” let’s teach our children to tell the story as we tell the story to them…over and over again. So that as we leave here tonight and wake in the morning, we too will “catch stars” and share in Christ’s Resurrection Power! Amen.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
A Sermon preached Palm Sunday, March 28, 2010 by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
“But all his acquaintances stood at a distance, watching these things.”
As we enter the drama of Holy Week, my question for all of us is simple, Where will we stand as the events unfold? My question is certainly intended to be concrete. Where will we be physically this week? But it is also a spiritual question. Obviously there are some who physically will be prevented from being at all the services, and so for them, it’s more about where they’ll be spiritually, in their hearts. This week will we risk coming up close? Or will we also “stand at a distance”. Physically? Spiritually?
When Thursday comes, will we stand at a distance? Perhaps stay home, or go to a service, but stay in the pew? Or will we be at the heart of the commemoration. Will we feel the warm water and someone else’s hands washing our feet? Will we taste the bread and wine— grainy and potent. These are reminders of what they did that night in obedience to what he said that night. Will we know in our deepest hearts that the power of that night is somehow brought forward even to us whenever we eat the bread and drink the cup. And then, wherever we are, as the altar is stripped, will we leave or stay and watch…even from a distance? Can we endure to watch as a holy space is rid it of its decoration, the cross draped in black, every sacramental trace of the body and blood of Christ is removed, and the light that reminds us of his Presence is extinguished?
Then Friday. Where will we stand? Will we be gathered and praying with a worship community at the hour he hung on the cross… Can we endure the corporate silence and hear the passionate meditations? Will we embrace Friday with our own deep passions, or will we watch detached, from a distance?
And come Saturday morning, will we rise and go to the tomb to anoint him with quiet prayer? Or will we just try to block out the terrible thing that happened on Friday?
Then that night. Will we come for the Vigil, the greatest drama, the central service of the entire Church year? Can we enter the hush and mystery of the darkened church as a new fire is kindled, the Paschal Candle lit, and the ancient hymns are chanted. Can we take in THE STORY that unfolds in word and song. It’s a lot to take in because it starts from the beginning and then as it goes on and on—
We’ll actually write a new chapter ourselves that night as we renew our Baptismal Vows and are sprinkled with the water that reminds us, “We are buried with Christ in his death and raised with him in his glorious resurrection.” Can we be there…up close and personal…as the reality becomes evident: Our own personal stories/lives are actually part of THE STORY: The One that begins in the Bible continues with us! Can we bear the waters of baptism? Can we watch through the night until the Easter morning dawn?
Then, of course, there’s Easter Day, the most amazing story of all because the tomb is empty! He is not here…he is risen! And in knowing that, believing that, we are set free to live our lives joyfully, abundantly. No matter what we’ve ever done, we’re forgiven—Love is stronger than death! God longs to remove our burdens and empower us to live our lives in the light of resurrection. Christ shows us a new way to live!
What a shame to stand at a distance just “watching” these things because THEY’RE ABOUT US!
So, where will we stand this week? Up close with feet wet from washing, bodies satisfied with bread & wine, hearts horrified by his suffering and heavy with grief, with senses sated by music and silence, somber starkness and lavish beauty, profound darkness and radiant light, and the smell of oil and flowers and perhaps incense.
Where will we stand this week?
It’s just a question, but it’s really a matter of life or death! Amen.
As we enter the drama of Holy Week, my question for all of us is simple, Where will we stand as the events unfold? My question is certainly intended to be concrete. Where will we be physically this week? But it is also a spiritual question. Obviously there are some who physically will be prevented from being at all the services, and so for them, it’s more about where they’ll be spiritually, in their hearts. This week will we risk coming up close? Or will we also “stand at a distance”. Physically? Spiritually?
When Thursday comes, will we stand at a distance? Perhaps stay home, or go to a service, but stay in the pew? Or will we be at the heart of the commemoration. Will we feel the warm water and someone else’s hands washing our feet? Will we taste the bread and wine— grainy and potent. These are reminders of what they did that night in obedience to what he said that night. Will we know in our deepest hearts that the power of that night is somehow brought forward even to us whenever we eat the bread and drink the cup. And then, wherever we are, as the altar is stripped, will we leave or stay and watch…even from a distance? Can we endure to watch as a holy space is rid it of its decoration, the cross draped in black, every sacramental trace of the body and blood of Christ is removed, and the light that reminds us of his Presence is extinguished?
Then Friday. Where will we stand? Will we be gathered and praying with a worship community at the hour he hung on the cross… Can we endure the corporate silence and hear the passionate meditations? Will we embrace Friday with our own deep passions, or will we watch detached, from a distance?
And come Saturday morning, will we rise and go to the tomb to anoint him with quiet prayer? Or will we just try to block out the terrible thing that happened on Friday?
Then that night. Will we come for the Vigil, the greatest drama, the central service of the entire Church year? Can we enter the hush and mystery of the darkened church as a new fire is kindled, the Paschal Candle lit, and the ancient hymns are chanted. Can we take in THE STORY that unfolds in word and song. It’s a lot to take in because it starts from the beginning and then as it goes on and on—
We’ll actually write a new chapter ourselves that night as we renew our Baptismal Vows and are sprinkled with the water that reminds us, “We are buried with Christ in his death and raised with him in his glorious resurrection.” Can we be there…up close and personal…as the reality becomes evident: Our own personal stories/lives are actually part of THE STORY: The One that begins in the Bible continues with us! Can we bear the waters of baptism? Can we watch through the night until the Easter morning dawn?
Then, of course, there’s Easter Day, the most amazing story of all because the tomb is empty! He is not here…he is risen! And in knowing that, believing that, we are set free to live our lives joyfully, abundantly. No matter what we’ve ever done, we’re forgiven—Love is stronger than death! God longs to remove our burdens and empower us to live our lives in the light of resurrection. Christ shows us a new way to live!
What a shame to stand at a distance just “watching” these things because THEY’RE ABOUT US!
So, where will we stand this week? Up close with feet wet from washing, bodies satisfied with bread & wine, hearts horrified by his suffering and heavy with grief, with senses sated by music and silence, somber starkness and lavish beauty, profound darkness and radiant light, and the smell of oil and flowers and perhaps incense.
Where will we stand this week?
It’s just a question, but it’s really a matter of life or death! Amen.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
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Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Auschwitz
Lee and I arrived in Krakow on Monday. Tuesday Morning we took a trip to Auchwitz/Birkenau. We investigated guided tours but decided to go by ourselves in order to have time for contemplation.
We walked to the bus station and boarded the mini bus. There were only a few people on board and we anticipated a quiet ride. But at the last moment a group of about 20 German students arrived and squeezed noisily onto the bus filling all seats and the aisles. Hearing German spoken by these carefree young people on their spring break added a strange twist to our visit.
We arrived and saw the introductory film, an old Black and White documentary made soon after the liberation of the camp. Accompanied ironically with the powerful music of Beethoven and Brahms, it told and showed in harrowing detail the horrors of this terrible place. The images of suffering were unbearable. Starving and haunted half dead people staggered out unable to comprehend that their nightmare was over.
We went to the camp and entered through the famous gate.
I can not express what I felt then or during most of my visit. I Think it is not possible for the brain to comprehend everything that took place here. But at that moment I felt a terrible heaviness.
The camp was built with great care. The buildings were well constructed and even attractive to the eye. Barbed wire is everywhere. Some of the old signs are still there in German. Beware High Voltage Risk of death.
We walked around, and then entered what must be the most unspeakable place on earth, the gas chamber and crematorium.
Later we toured a number of the buildings which had exhibits about what it was like in the camp. There were large rooms filled with suitcases, each neatly labeled with the name and address of the owner. Others were filled with shoes. There was one with only children's shoes. That and another one of prayer shawls really got to me.
Other rooms described the daily life of the prisoners filled with unimaginable cruelty. They worked 11 hours a day and were fed a diet of about 1500 calories. Unless they could find more food, they would starve to death in a few months. Many did and others were tortured or killed when caught stealing food.
Everywhere there was the evidence of how methodical it all was. Glass cases were filled with documents and orders. Technically perfect photographs of hundreds of prisoners were on the walls of one building. You saw the frightened faces of children and adults almost all of whom did not survive.
The medical experiments were well documented and horrifying. Many died or were maimed as a result. Twins were used for Dr Mengele's experiments. Women and men were sterilized. Often these people were killed so that the doctors could do autopsies.
We saw a wall where thousands of prisoners were lined up and shot.
After this, we took a shuttle bus to the other much larger camp Birkenau. Most buildings were partially destroyed, but the scale is enormous.I am glad that I made this visit, but I could not do it again
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
A Sermon Preached on John 12:1-8 March 21, 2010, Lent 5C, during The Season of Common Worship at Crissey Farm by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector of St. James
In ancient history, and certainly back in the First Century of the Common Era when Jesus was alive, sometimes peoples’ heads were anointed with oil. This was done as a sign of royalty or as a gesture of healing. But anointing their feet! It was unheard of! Nobody did that except, perhaps, to prepare a corpse for burial.
But Mary does it. The prayerful sister of Lazarus and Martha anoints Jesus’ feet with fine, fragrant oil. Then she does something else a respectable women like herself just wouldn’t do…She takes down her hair and wipes his feet. So the oil on his feet becomes also the oil in her hair, and they’re bound up with one another in a new, fragrant way. It’s a lavish, extravagant act of hospitality, love and gratitude. Perhaps Mary did it because Jesus had recently brought Lazarus back to life from death. Or maybe she and his other close friends knew that the end for Jesus was probably near. Whatever her motives, the anointing of his feet was a way Mary honored Jesus’ presence among them and a way of expressing deep love and appreciation. It’s something Mary did with wild abandon…Not thinking of how it looked or knowing exactly what it meant…She just did it! And Jesus responded with appreciation and prophetic understanding, “She has prepared my body for burial.” And so this anointing of Jesus’ feet links hospitality, love and gratitude with suffering, death and new life.
This anointing story in the Gospel of John falls just after Jesus raises Lazarus and just before Jesus enters Jerusalem for that final, terrible week of his passion. The word of Jesus’ raising Lazarus had gotten out quickly to the authorities.and it may have been what finally did him in…The last straw. The Gospel of John makes it pretty clear: There was some cause and effect between Lazarus coming out of the tomb, and Jesus having to go into a tomb. In that, Life is given, not only to Lazarus, but to the whole world. . .To you and me. Consciously or unconsciously, Mary had anointed Jesus’ body for burial. In doing that, she helps prepare us for the dramatic journey of Holy Week, which we’ll begin next Sunday.
Today, however, I want us to focus on this tender anointing. To think of the times in our lives when Jesus is among us—In prayer. In worship. In silence. In the form of some beloved person…perhaps a little child, or a very old, frail person, or a dear friend, or a lover. These are precious beings who, life teaches us over and over again, may not always be with us. I know many of us have learned this personally over this last year with the loss of a relative or friend.
So what do we do when we have LOVE incarnate NOW in our very midst? Do we honor it with lavish, extravagant hospitality…Seemingly wasting costly, sweet oil just to soothe and pamper? But, what would “costly oil” be for us today in the 21st Century? (Probably not nard!)
(BTW I have some nard. It’s a pungent, odd, sweet smelling stuff. And I’ll put it on my hands today as I pass the Peace… so you can see how its fragrance fills the room.)
If for us today, it’s not costly nard, I wonder what would be an equivalent that we might “waste” in response to the presence of LOVE in our midst? Perhaps the thing in our busy, wealthy culture we value most and the thing that seems most scarce to us—is TIME. Can we lavish TIME on God and on those people who are most important to us? Or do we squander it on the many other things that will always be there demanding our attention?
[In his popular book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen Covey writes of the difference between things that are urgent (like the phone ringing) and things that are important (like time with God or loved ones). He stresses the value of determining what’s not important, and ruthlessly letting go of those things; then determining what is important, and spending the bulk of our time doing those.]
So, what might we do today that’s like the odd thing Mary did for Jesus by anointing his feet with sweet oil and then wiping them with her hair? Remember what she did was unexpected, uncalled for, out of order and socially inappropriate; yet it clearly conveyed hospitality, deep affection and gratitude. It embodied Mary’s priorities.
Are there times or ways we might abandon our conventional selves because we are so filled with love and thanksgiving? Are there times we can just let the phone ring because we’re in the middle of an important conversation with a little child? Mary models this for us. It’s something God probably longs for us to do. ‘Something our souls long to do. What is the wild abandon you could express in response to the presence of LOVE in your life? How could you show true gratitude?
The late Rabbi Abraham Heschel wrote, “(Humankind) will not die for lack of information, but it may perish for lack of appreciation.” (1965 Who is Man?)
It’s the appreciation for the miracle of Life and Love Heschel is talking about. How can we anoint the feet of Life and Love in our day? If we do find ways, they will no doubt be different for each of us in their particulars. But in order to prepare for the events of Holy Week, in order to prepare for Jesus (an innocent man) to suffer and die the most terrible death for our sakes, in order to prepare to receive the wonderful Good News of the empty tomb and risen Christ (Which is, after all, the POINT of Jesus’ passion), and in order to live our lives in the Hope of sharing in Jesus’ resurrection, we must prepare “the body for burial” in our own ways.
In a sense I think this is what we’ve been doing as we five churches have shared Lent together in this 6-wk Season of Common Worship. We’ve celebrated the LOVE and LIFE that’s right before us—Anointed it lavishly with the best we have, bringing the rich gifts and graces from all our churches to participate in making something new—together. It’s unconventional. Unexpected. And we’ve done it joyfully, because we have the advantage of knowing the rest of the story: The tomb is empty: LOVE IS STRONGER THAN DEATH OR HATRED OR VIOLENCE!
We can celebrate LOVE and LIFE now! It’s not too late, and it will make the rest of the story of Holy Week and Easter much, much sweeter as it unfolds.
Amen.
But Mary does it. The prayerful sister of Lazarus and Martha anoints Jesus’ feet with fine, fragrant oil. Then she does something else a respectable women like herself just wouldn’t do…She takes down her hair and wipes his feet. So the oil on his feet becomes also the oil in her hair, and they’re bound up with one another in a new, fragrant way. It’s a lavish, extravagant act of hospitality, love and gratitude. Perhaps Mary did it because Jesus had recently brought Lazarus back to life from death. Or maybe she and his other close friends knew that the end for Jesus was probably near. Whatever her motives, the anointing of his feet was a way Mary honored Jesus’ presence among them and a way of expressing deep love and appreciation. It’s something Mary did with wild abandon…Not thinking of how it looked or knowing exactly what it meant…She just did it! And Jesus responded with appreciation and prophetic understanding, “She has prepared my body for burial.” And so this anointing of Jesus’ feet links hospitality, love and gratitude with suffering, death and new life.
This anointing story in the Gospel of John falls just after Jesus raises Lazarus and just before Jesus enters Jerusalem for that final, terrible week of his passion. The word of Jesus’ raising Lazarus had gotten out quickly to the authorities.and it may have been what finally did him in…The last straw. The Gospel of John makes it pretty clear: There was some cause and effect between Lazarus coming out of the tomb, and Jesus having to go into a tomb. In that, Life is given, not only to Lazarus, but to the whole world. . .To you and me. Consciously or unconsciously, Mary had anointed Jesus’ body for burial. In doing that, she helps prepare us for the dramatic journey of Holy Week, which we’ll begin next Sunday.
Today, however, I want us to focus on this tender anointing. To think of the times in our lives when Jesus is among us—In prayer. In worship. In silence. In the form of some beloved person…perhaps a little child, or a very old, frail person, or a dear friend, or a lover. These are precious beings who, life teaches us over and over again, may not always be with us. I know many of us have learned this personally over this last year with the loss of a relative or friend.
So what do we do when we have LOVE incarnate NOW in our very midst? Do we honor it with lavish, extravagant hospitality…Seemingly wasting costly, sweet oil just to soothe and pamper? But, what would “costly oil” be for us today in the 21st Century? (Probably not nard!)
(BTW I have some nard. It’s a pungent, odd, sweet smelling stuff. And I’ll put it on my hands today as I pass the Peace… so you can see how its fragrance fills the room.)
If for us today, it’s not costly nard, I wonder what would be an equivalent that we might “waste” in response to the presence of LOVE in our midst? Perhaps the thing in our busy, wealthy culture we value most and the thing that seems most scarce to us—is TIME. Can we lavish TIME on God and on those people who are most important to us? Or do we squander it on the many other things that will always be there demanding our attention?
[In his popular book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen Covey writes of the difference between things that are urgent (like the phone ringing) and things that are important (like time with God or loved ones). He stresses the value of determining what’s not important, and ruthlessly letting go of those things; then determining what is important, and spending the bulk of our time doing those.]
So, what might we do today that’s like the odd thing Mary did for Jesus by anointing his feet with sweet oil and then wiping them with her hair? Remember what she did was unexpected, uncalled for, out of order and socially inappropriate; yet it clearly conveyed hospitality, deep affection and gratitude. It embodied Mary’s priorities.
Are there times or ways we might abandon our conventional selves because we are so filled with love and thanksgiving? Are there times we can just let the phone ring because we’re in the middle of an important conversation with a little child? Mary models this for us. It’s something God probably longs for us to do. ‘Something our souls long to do. What is the wild abandon you could express in response to the presence of LOVE in your life? How could you show true gratitude?
The late Rabbi Abraham Heschel wrote, “(Humankind) will not die for lack of information, but it may perish for lack of appreciation.” (1965 Who is Man?)
It’s the appreciation for the miracle of Life and Love Heschel is talking about. How can we anoint the feet of Life and Love in our day? If we do find ways, they will no doubt be different for each of us in their particulars. But in order to prepare for the events of Holy Week, in order to prepare for Jesus (an innocent man) to suffer and die the most terrible death for our sakes, in order to prepare to receive the wonderful Good News of the empty tomb and risen Christ (Which is, after all, the POINT of Jesus’ passion), and in order to live our lives in the Hope of sharing in Jesus’ resurrection, we must prepare “the body for burial” in our own ways.
In a sense I think this is what we’ve been doing as we five churches have shared Lent together in this 6-wk Season of Common Worship. We’ve celebrated the LOVE and LIFE that’s right before us—Anointed it lavishly with the best we have, bringing the rich gifts and graces from all our churches to participate in making something new—together. It’s unconventional. Unexpected. And we’ve done it joyfully, because we have the advantage of knowing the rest of the story: The tomb is empty: LOVE IS STRONGER THAN DEATH OR HATRED OR VIOLENCE!
We can celebrate LOVE and LIFE now! It’s not too late, and it will make the rest of the story of Holy Week and Easter much, much sweeter as it unfolds.
Amen.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Sermon Preached February 21, 2010 Lent 1 C by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
“Strengthened in the Wilderness”
When we come to this Gospel on the First Sunday of Lent, I’m usually drawn to the three temptations. I can identify with them. Maybe some of you can as well.This Lent I’ve enjoyed reading contemplative writer Richard Rohr’s meditations on the temptations from his book, Radical Grace. He says the first one, where the devil dares Jesus to turn stone into bread, is about our temptation to be immediately impressive, effective, and successful. It’s about our desire to make things happen—Right now! It makes us look good! Jesus didn’t buy into it.
The second temptation dares Jesus to throw himself down from the pinnacle of the Temple. Rohr says this temptation is to think of ourselves as saved, superior to others, religiously elite somehow. In this one, the devil tempts Jesus by quoting scripture to him. However, the devil is using scripture for his own purposes. He’s “against God, in the name of God.” Rohr says the devil’s really loving himself in the guise of loving God. Jesus won’t buy this either.
And the third temptation is when the devil tries to bully Jesus into bowing down before the power systems of this world. Again, Jesus refuses. He will worship and serve God alone.
These are the things I usually think about and preach about on this first Sunday of Lent. It’s good for us, especially in Lent, to think about the things that tempt us.About how vulnerable we are to all kinds of temptations. About how temptations come to us masquerading as good things. About how cunning, baffling, and powerful temptations are.
But this Lent, as a result of our Lectionary study Tuesday night, I got to thinking about a different aspect of today’s story. About how Jesus, who was no doubt very weak physically from fasting and from being in the wilderness for 40 days, rose to the occasion of sparing with the devil with the most incredible, supple, spiritual strength. Although the devil bullied him, he didn’t bully back. He didn’t cave. He didn’t strike back. He simply, non-anxiously, quoted God’s word to the devil. Although Divine, Jesus was also fully human. So where did he find the inner strength…and not just once or twice but three times… when the devil assaulted him? Jesus was sorely tempted and yet strong…so strong! What is the strength Jesus found from fasting in the wilderness?
Remember the wilderness is a desolate place. It’s a place away from all we are familiar with and know: Away from creature comforts. Away from some of the various “props” we may use in our lives to help us feel worthy and secure in our identities: Our titles, roles, uniforms, houses, cars, church buildings, tools, work, and routines—even our friends & families. In the wilderness ALL THAT’S GONE.
In the wilderness there is SILENCE…deafening silence. It’s a place to confront the voices inside our heads. It’s a place to wrestle with temptation. It’s a place to learn to really listen, and it’s a place to hear God’s voice. In the wilderness there is real physical & spiritual danger because we’re unprotected from the elements, from wild creatures, from the committees that meet in our heads, from the voice of the devil. (‘Not sure about any difference between the last two!)
Then add to that fasting. In Jesus’ case, he took in no food or water over an extended time. That eventually makes the body weak. So while Jesus is so weak, the devil takes advantage and tempts him. But Jesus calmly rebukes the devil. He does it simply…with God’s word. I want a faith like that. I want an inner strength like that. I imagine all of us here would wish for that as well.
So this Lent, I encourage us to go to the wilderness. Go to a place without our “props.” A place that’s silent. A place where we are vulnerable. Perhaps we might consider fasting or at least not eating so much, or doing so much, or talking so much. It is in that wilderness place where God will have a chance to come to us. And be with us. And give us God’s word. So that we too are strong…so strong.
Amen.
When we come to this Gospel on the First Sunday of Lent, I’m usually drawn to the three temptations. I can identify with them. Maybe some of you can as well.This Lent I’ve enjoyed reading contemplative writer Richard Rohr’s meditations on the temptations from his book, Radical Grace. He says the first one, where the devil dares Jesus to turn stone into bread, is about our temptation to be immediately impressive, effective, and successful. It’s about our desire to make things happen—Right now! It makes us look good! Jesus didn’t buy into it.
The second temptation dares Jesus to throw himself down from the pinnacle of the Temple. Rohr says this temptation is to think of ourselves as saved, superior to others, religiously elite somehow. In this one, the devil tempts Jesus by quoting scripture to him. However, the devil is using scripture for his own purposes. He’s “against God, in the name of God.” Rohr says the devil’s really loving himself in the guise of loving God. Jesus won’t buy this either.
And the third temptation is when the devil tries to bully Jesus into bowing down before the power systems of this world. Again, Jesus refuses. He will worship and serve God alone.
These are the things I usually think about and preach about on this first Sunday of Lent. It’s good for us, especially in Lent, to think about the things that tempt us.About how vulnerable we are to all kinds of temptations. About how temptations come to us masquerading as good things. About how cunning, baffling, and powerful temptations are.
But this Lent, as a result of our Lectionary study Tuesday night, I got to thinking about a different aspect of today’s story. About how Jesus, who was no doubt very weak physically from fasting and from being in the wilderness for 40 days, rose to the occasion of sparing with the devil with the most incredible, supple, spiritual strength. Although the devil bullied him, he didn’t bully back. He didn’t cave. He didn’t strike back. He simply, non-anxiously, quoted God’s word to the devil. Although Divine, Jesus was also fully human. So where did he find the inner strength…and not just once or twice but three times… when the devil assaulted him? Jesus was sorely tempted and yet strong…so strong! What is the strength Jesus found from fasting in the wilderness?
Remember the wilderness is a desolate place. It’s a place away from all we are familiar with and know: Away from creature comforts. Away from some of the various “props” we may use in our lives to help us feel worthy and secure in our identities: Our titles, roles, uniforms, houses, cars, church buildings, tools, work, and routines—even our friends & families. In the wilderness ALL THAT’S GONE.
In the wilderness there is SILENCE…deafening silence. It’s a place to confront the voices inside our heads. It’s a place to wrestle with temptation. It’s a place to learn to really listen, and it’s a place to hear God’s voice. In the wilderness there is real physical & spiritual danger because we’re unprotected from the elements, from wild creatures, from the committees that meet in our heads, from the voice of the devil. (‘Not sure about any difference between the last two!)
Then add to that fasting. In Jesus’ case, he took in no food or water over an extended time. That eventually makes the body weak. So while Jesus is so weak, the devil takes advantage and tempts him. But Jesus calmly rebukes the devil. He does it simply…with God’s word. I want a faith like that. I want an inner strength like that. I imagine all of us here would wish for that as well.
So this Lent, I encourage us to go to the wilderness. Go to a place without our “props.” A place that’s silent. A place where we are vulnerable. Perhaps we might consider fasting or at least not eating so much, or doing so much, or talking so much. It is in that wilderness place where God will have a chance to come to us. And be with us. And give us God’s word. So that we too are strong…so strong.
Amen.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Rockin’ the Rain Suit – from Jake Pinkston on teaching mission in Honduras
I know I love to talk about the rain in Honduras, but it continues to amaze and confuse me. I have to say that I have not quite figured out the rainy season here, and it doesn’t seem that anyone else has either. Depending on who you ask, it includes all or some of the months of December through February, but it really depends on a given week. Last week was a rainy week: five straight days of consistent drizzle with intermittent down pours. Since my umbrella “disappeared” a few months back, I usually brave the elements in the rain suit that I brought on the Appalachian Trail with my Dad a few summers back (I don’t recall ever bothering to use it…). My students think I look absolutely ridiculous but I have never been one for fashion sense anyways. I have pretty much come to terms with the fact that I will never blend in here, but at least I will keep my pants dry.
Rainy days are tough at Trinity. Rainy weeks are down right crazy. The roofs are leaky, so you have to dodge buckets strategically place throughout the school. The pinging of water off metal or composite materials becomes almost deafening in the classrooms and I have to resort to sign language and diagrams on the board to keep the class on track. To keep the kids near the windows dry, we usually close them. However, this cuts off the main ventilation source, so it gets really stuffy. The drainage in the center of the school fills up with silt so much of the play area becomes a lake. All this translates into inattentive, uncomfortable students with no where to vent their pent up energy. Everybody was happy when the final bell rang on Friday.
The nasty weather finally broke on Saturday, and it was an eventful day. My sink fixture got replaced after it started dripping down below and slowly flooding my apartment; a good excuse for some Friday evening mopping action. I am so lucky to have such an excellent landlord. Peter lives on the first floor of the building and the four apartments are on the second floor. I told him about the problem on Friday night and he had guys working on it by 10am the next morning and done by 11. They even siliconed the sink in the bathroom that was also leaking. What service!
I don’t think I have mentioned my landlord yet in the blog. Peter is an expatriate whose wife is Honduran. He moved down here with his family from San Diego, built this house / apartment complex, and continues to practice international law via his computer. He also plays music gigs at a couple local restaurants on the weekends. In one of those small world moments, I found out a couple weeks ago that his sister and mother live in a quaint town in the southern Berkshires. You may have heard of it… Great Barrington!?
After resolving the sink ordeal, I got to get outside and enjoy the sunshine. Javier rode over on his motorcycle and we took an hour and a half ride up into the Nombre de Dios Mountains, following the Cangrejal River. It was a bumpy ride, as the rain had washed out a couple sections of the road but there was almost no traffic, which kept the dust out of our eyes. The Congrejal river is only 20 km long but moves a lot of water and there is a rafting company that runs the rapids. There are also a couple small communities that are developing an ecotourism economy. The water was running high from the rain and the 70 foot waterfall was spectacular. Great day to get out of the city.
It was actually the second time I had been in the Cangrajal area. When I was in La Ceiba with the Colorado team last, I joined them on their first ever field trip. A local NGO took them on guided educational tours through the Pico Bonito National Forest and over some questionable bridges. I am looking to do a similar trip to another part of the forest in April.
My fun Saturday did not end there. I got a call from the organist, Nelson, who plays in a local rock band called the no names. He didn’t give me many details besides that he was playing in a concert and they were going on soon. Or at least that is what I thought I heard. So I grabbed a t-shirt and hopped in a cab. I knew I missed something when I noticed that every single person waiting outside to get into the concert was wearing black t-shirts, black jeans, and combat boots. Apparently, this was the first ever La Ceiba Metal Fest, being held to benefit a local charity that works with disabled children at the Lions International Club. I was wearing a Ben Folds T-Shirt, who if you are not familiar, is a piano player who could be considered the antithesis of the hard rock genre (you can hear both the lyrics and the notes). Undeterred, I bought a ticket and went in.
The venue was a bit oversized for the crowd in attendance, but Nelson’s band was the local opening act and I think the harder core rockers made a later entrance. It was one of the bands first acts so the performance was a little rough around the edges but they put on a good set. The crowd particularly liked their Pink Floyd and Metallica covers and who could not love Knockin’ On Heavens Door, Guns n’ Roses style blasting at 300 decibels (the guitar player nailed the solo). Good fun. We headed off for snacks in the park afterwards, preferring to avoid the ear splitting dissonant growling that was to follow. So all in all, it was a fun filled Saturday and although once again I failed to pass muster for Honduran dress code, I was just happy not to be soaking wet.
Rainy days are tough at Trinity. Rainy weeks are down right crazy. The roofs are leaky, so you have to dodge buckets strategically place throughout the school. The pinging of water off metal or composite materials becomes almost deafening in the classrooms and I have to resort to sign language and diagrams on the board to keep the class on track. To keep the kids near the windows dry, we usually close them. However, this cuts off the main ventilation source, so it gets really stuffy. The drainage in the center of the school fills up with silt so much of the play area becomes a lake. All this translates into inattentive, uncomfortable students with no where to vent their pent up energy. Everybody was happy when the final bell rang on Friday.
The nasty weather finally broke on Saturday, and it was an eventful day. My sink fixture got replaced after it started dripping down below and slowly flooding my apartment; a good excuse for some Friday evening mopping action. I am so lucky to have such an excellent landlord. Peter lives on the first floor of the building and the four apartments are on the second floor. I told him about the problem on Friday night and he had guys working on it by 10am the next morning and done by 11. They even siliconed the sink in the bathroom that was also leaking. What service!
I don’t think I have mentioned my landlord yet in the blog. Peter is an expatriate whose wife is Honduran. He moved down here with his family from San Diego, built this house / apartment complex, and continues to practice international law via his computer. He also plays music gigs at a couple local restaurants on the weekends. In one of those small world moments, I found out a couple weeks ago that his sister and mother live in a quaint town in the southern Berkshires. You may have heard of it… Great Barrington!?
After resolving the sink ordeal, I got to get outside and enjoy the sunshine. Javier rode over on his motorcycle and we took an hour and a half ride up into the Nombre de Dios Mountains, following the Cangrejal River. It was a bumpy ride, as the rain had washed out a couple sections of the road but there was almost no traffic, which kept the dust out of our eyes. The Congrejal river is only 20 km long but moves a lot of water and there is a rafting company that runs the rapids. There are also a couple small communities that are developing an ecotourism economy. The water was running high from the rain and the 70 foot waterfall was spectacular. Great day to get out of the city.
It was actually the second time I had been in the Cangrajal area. When I was in La Ceiba with the Colorado team last, I joined them on their first ever field trip. A local NGO took them on guided educational tours through the Pico Bonito National Forest and over some questionable bridges. I am looking to do a similar trip to another part of the forest in April.
My fun Saturday did not end there. I got a call from the organist, Nelson, who plays in a local rock band called the no names. He didn’t give me many details besides that he was playing in a concert and they were going on soon. Or at least that is what I thought I heard. So I grabbed a t-shirt and hopped in a cab. I knew I missed something when I noticed that every single person waiting outside to get into the concert was wearing black t-shirts, black jeans, and combat boots. Apparently, this was the first ever La Ceiba Metal Fest, being held to benefit a local charity that works with disabled children at the Lions International Club. I was wearing a Ben Folds T-Shirt, who if you are not familiar, is a piano player who could be considered the antithesis of the hard rock genre (you can hear both the lyrics and the notes). Undeterred, I bought a ticket and went in.
The venue was a bit oversized for the crowd in attendance, but Nelson’s band was the local opening act and I think the harder core rockers made a later entrance. It was one of the bands first acts so the performance was a little rough around the edges but they put on a good set. The crowd particularly liked their Pink Floyd and Metallica covers and who could not love Knockin’ On Heavens Door, Guns n’ Roses style blasting at 300 decibels (the guitar player nailed the solo). Good fun. We headed off for snacks in the park afterwards, preferring to avoid the ear splitting dissonant growling that was to follow. So all in all, it was a fun filled Saturday and although once again I failed to pass muster for Honduran dress code, I was just happy not to be soaking wet.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Back in Action – From Jake Pinkston on teaching mission in Honduras
I want to begin by apologizing for my long hiatus from the blogosphere. While it is easy to say it has been a busy, difficult month, I realize that I should be writing more frequently. I need to do a better job of keeping all of you up to date with my happenings, even when they aren't as successful as I want them to be. I will do better.
The first month of the third term has been extremely challenging for me. It seems like everyone at Trinity here is hitting a wall of sorts. The spark that comes with the beginning of the school year has faded. There is another month before the next break. People are feeling fatigued and many are missing school due to illness. Students and staff are both feeling a bit burned out. The course material has been challenging and everyday has felt like a battle just to keep moving forward. Instead of rising to the challenge, many of the students have fallen back onto old habits, which has been frustrating and draining. It has been hard to keep up the energy and enthusiasm. Often times I feel like a broken record, pleading for the students to come to class prepared and stay engaged in the subject matter. Grades have slipped substantially and I am having trouble inspiring the quality of work that I was getting before the Christmas break. I have caught 6 students cheating in some form or another in my class, which has been disappointing and disheartening. It feels like many days we are taking more steps backwards than forwards.
I have had a lot of support from the administration and have used these trials to reevaluate my teaching style and expectations. I have been trying to mix up my lessons to make the material a little more interesting and tried some new assignments to give the students new ways to learn and perform. This has had mixed results. Some continue to be stubbornly apathetic but there are many who are beginning to take more initiative. I have more students than ever staying after school for extra help and guidance. Although it has often been coerced, the results have been encouraging.
My biggest focus for improvement has been communication with the students. I have a tendency to forget that while my sole focus is teaching, the hormone-crazed teenagers I am working with have other things on their mind than the formula for respiration. The best part about working in such a small school is the opportunities for one on one time with the students. I have been trying to build stronger relationships with the students to try to find ways to motivate and help them succeed. While this has made the failures difficult, it has made the victories equally as sweet. When I see students solving a problem they have never seen before light up when they realize they know how to do it, when a group proudly shows me the progress they have made on their science fair project, when a student who has failed the last two pop quizzes smiles as he turns in his chapter test with every question answered: that’s where I draw my strength. That’s when I realize why I am here and why it is all worth it.
I have been thinking and praying on my role at Trinity this year and in the future the last few months. As I submitted for the annual meeting, I am well below my projected budget for the year. Though my mother thinks I look too skinny (she is sending vitamins), I am living quite comfortably here in La Ceiba and really love being a teacher. I have never taken a job more seriously or worked as hard as I have these last few months because I know I am not just working for me but working for all of you who have supported me on this journey.
Although it has not been easy, I can see how far Trinity has come in the past few years. Only a few years ago, the school was in dire financial straights, its enrollment dwindling and its level of education below standard. Through the vision of Veronica, Mike, and Betty, the contributions of mission teams from Texas, Colorado, and Pennsylvania, and a committed staff, we have become the rising star among bilingual schools in La Ceiba as well as across the Episcopal Diocese. I am proud to be a part of that renewal, even though I have only been here the last seven months.
It is far from over though. The next few years will be a test as to whether we can continue this upward momentum. Mike and Betty, who have devoted the first three years of their retirement to jumpstarting the secondary school, are wrapping up their time as teachers at Trinity. At the end of the year, they will return to the United States. Their plan is to continue to aid in the development of the school by raising funds and advising the newly formed board of directors, but also be grandparents. Others will have to step up.
I would like to formally ask the support of the Congregation of St. James that I might continue my mission work for another year at Trinity Episcopal School. I believe that with another year, I could solidify the secondary science program, develop a long term curriculum, and sustain the academic rigor that has begun to define the school. I also feel that my presence would help create a continuity of programming and purpose as more leadership roles are taken on by Honduran staff members. Next year, Trinity will graduate its first secondary class and I want to be there to congratulate each one of those students as they cross the stage and receive their diplomas.
I know that many of you have made significant contributions to send me to La Ceiba, and this was initially intended to be a single year mission. I can’t begin to express my gratitude for your generosity. This experience has been the most inspirational and life changing endeavor I have pursued. I am truly blessed. However, I feel like my work here is not yet finished. While I would gladly return the surplus funds to St. James at the end of the year or donate them to worthy projects at Trinity, I believe that my continued presence is the best investment I can make for my students. I could not have come this far without St. James, and I hope that you will continue to support me in the future.
The first month of the third term has been extremely challenging for me. It seems like everyone at Trinity here is hitting a wall of sorts. The spark that comes with the beginning of the school year has faded. There is another month before the next break. People are feeling fatigued and many are missing school due to illness. Students and staff are both feeling a bit burned out. The course material has been challenging and everyday has felt like a battle just to keep moving forward. Instead of rising to the challenge, many of the students have fallen back onto old habits, which has been frustrating and draining. It has been hard to keep up the energy and enthusiasm. Often times I feel like a broken record, pleading for the students to come to class prepared and stay engaged in the subject matter. Grades have slipped substantially and I am having trouble inspiring the quality of work that I was getting before the Christmas break. I have caught 6 students cheating in some form or another in my class, which has been disappointing and disheartening. It feels like many days we are taking more steps backwards than forwards.
I have had a lot of support from the administration and have used these trials to reevaluate my teaching style and expectations. I have been trying to mix up my lessons to make the material a little more interesting and tried some new assignments to give the students new ways to learn and perform. This has had mixed results. Some continue to be stubbornly apathetic but there are many who are beginning to take more initiative. I have more students than ever staying after school for extra help and guidance. Although it has often been coerced, the results have been encouraging.
My biggest focus for improvement has been communication with the students. I have a tendency to forget that while my sole focus is teaching, the hormone-crazed teenagers I am working with have other things on their mind than the formula for respiration. The best part about working in such a small school is the opportunities for one on one time with the students. I have been trying to build stronger relationships with the students to try to find ways to motivate and help them succeed. While this has made the failures difficult, it has made the victories equally as sweet. When I see students solving a problem they have never seen before light up when they realize they know how to do it, when a group proudly shows me the progress they have made on their science fair project, when a student who has failed the last two pop quizzes smiles as he turns in his chapter test with every question answered: that’s where I draw my strength. That’s when I realize why I am here and why it is all worth it.
I have been thinking and praying on my role at Trinity this year and in the future the last few months. As I submitted for the annual meeting, I am well below my projected budget for the year. Though my mother thinks I look too skinny (she is sending vitamins), I am living quite comfortably here in La Ceiba and really love being a teacher. I have never taken a job more seriously or worked as hard as I have these last few months because I know I am not just working for me but working for all of you who have supported me on this journey.
Although it has not been easy, I can see how far Trinity has come in the past few years. Only a few years ago, the school was in dire financial straights, its enrollment dwindling and its level of education below standard. Through the vision of Veronica, Mike, and Betty, the contributions of mission teams from Texas, Colorado, and Pennsylvania, and a committed staff, we have become the rising star among bilingual schools in La Ceiba as well as across the Episcopal Diocese. I am proud to be a part of that renewal, even though I have only been here the last seven months.
It is far from over though. The next few years will be a test as to whether we can continue this upward momentum. Mike and Betty, who have devoted the first three years of their retirement to jumpstarting the secondary school, are wrapping up their time as teachers at Trinity. At the end of the year, they will return to the United States. Their plan is to continue to aid in the development of the school by raising funds and advising the newly formed board of directors, but also be grandparents. Others will have to step up.
I would like to formally ask the support of the Congregation of St. James that I might continue my mission work for another year at Trinity Episcopal School. I believe that with another year, I could solidify the secondary science program, develop a long term curriculum, and sustain the academic rigor that has begun to define the school. I also feel that my presence would help create a continuity of programming and purpose as more leadership roles are taken on by Honduran staff members. Next year, Trinity will graduate its first secondary class and I want to be there to congratulate each one of those students as they cross the stage and receive their diplomas.
I know that many of you have made significant contributions to send me to La Ceiba, and this was initially intended to be a single year mission. I can’t begin to express my gratitude for your generosity. This experience has been the most inspirational and life changing endeavor I have pursued. I am truly blessed. However, I feel like my work here is not yet finished. While I would gladly return the surplus funds to St. James at the end of the year or donate them to worthy projects at Trinity, I believe that my continued presence is the best investment I can make for my students. I could not have come this far without St. James, and I hope that you will continue to support me in the future.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Sermon Preached January 24, 2010 Epiphany 3 C by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Today’s reading from 1 Corinthians is a continuation from last week’s. For some reason when I read today’s passage earlier this week, I started thinking of it literally. (Now, you may think I’ve gone “over the edge” but stay with me.)
The images that came to mind were absurd: You sitting out there in your chairs at Crissey Farm…One of you an eyeball. Another an ear. Another a heart. One a head, and so on. In thinking of it in that silly way, I was able to “hear again" the part of today’s passage that says, “If all were a single member (like an eyeball or a heart), where would the body be?” The parts have to be assembled together as a body, in order for there to be a body at all—instead of a bunch of silly, isolated parts.
Then my mind went from the literal-absurd eyeballs on chairs to more abstract images of some of Picasso’s work, especially the cubist-Fauve-influenced ones from the late 1930s. In these parts of things, and especially faces, are fragmented and perhaps reconstructed in shocking ways. In some of his paintings Picasso used this style to communicate great emotional distress, like the shattering experience of grief.
To state the obvious, a fragmented body or face is not a whole body or face. And I believe it is God’s will that the Body of Christ be whole—all parts in their proper place. Working together. Complete. And in being whole, then the Body of Christ can give light in the darkness to this sinful and broken world.
So we must use and honor all the parts, because they are all necessary to make the body whole. Think about it…An eyeball that can see a glorious sunset, is of no use unless it has a heart and mind to process and enjoy it. A heart full of love needs arms and lips and voice to express the love.
So as I look out at you today, in your chairs at Crissey Farm, I don’t see an eyeball in one chair, a foot in another. I see people who bring many, many gifts to this place. If I could step up on a little balcony, I could see you as a whole, as the body of Christ at St. James. Some are teachers. Some prophets. Some mercy givers and helpers. Some healers. Some offer hospitality. Some nurture others. Some are young, fragile, or frail and need our protection. Some have remarkable abilities to exercise leadership. Some have brilliant, disciplined minds. Some have great pragmatic wisdom. Some remind us to exercise caution, while others are way ahead, boldly out there “leading the charge.” And some have great artistic gifts, which you generously share. But we’re all together, part of an organic whole, sharing our gifts and relying on each other’s gifts. We do this because we know that each of us has a piece of Wisdom and Truth, and none of us has all the Wisdom or Truth, but together we will have a much better opportunity to be Wise and know Truth. So we rely on each other’s gifts in order to best take light into the world and build up the Body of Christ. While we are many parts/members, everyone who is in Christ belongs to the one Body…through our baptisms and through the Holy Spirit.
So our distinctions, the things that make us unique individuals, never bar us from the community. We’re all together in this, and no one part of the Body can claim to be more necessary than another. All of us are equally essential. The gifts God gives us are of equal value. So we must highly regard each other…
It puts a different light on, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” because our neighbors are all part of our self, which is the Body of Christ. And, because we are united as one body, we feel the suffering of any one of the members, and we share the joy of any one of the members because they are part of us and we are part of them.
This way of thinking and being together in this parish family will serve us well as we continue in our process towards discerning the future God is calling us into, and as we discern the kind of building that will best help us live into God’s mission. When we realize we cannot be isolated parts: We’re not eyeballs and ears sitting in the chairs, trying to do our thing without regard or relationship with all the members and those we will serve. When we realize instead we are essential parts of one Body sitting in these chairs, then we’ll know in the depths of our beings, “The body does not consist of one member, but of many, and if we were each just a single member, then there would be no body.”
As we of St. James move forward, and so we’re not fragmented or disassembled like a Picasso painting, we’ve got to stay in right relationship with all our parts, so that we are indeed, together, the Body of Christ, a light in the darkness to this sinful and broken world. Amen.
The images that came to mind were absurd: You sitting out there in your chairs at Crissey Farm…One of you an eyeball. Another an ear. Another a heart. One a head, and so on. In thinking of it in that silly way, I was able to “hear again" the part of today’s passage that says, “If all were a single member (like an eyeball or a heart), where would the body be?” The parts have to be assembled together as a body, in order for there to be a body at all—instead of a bunch of silly, isolated parts.
Then my mind went from the literal-absurd eyeballs on chairs to more abstract images of some of Picasso’s work, especially the cubist-Fauve-influenced ones from the late 1930s. In these parts of things, and especially faces, are fragmented and perhaps reconstructed in shocking ways. In some of his paintings Picasso used this style to communicate great emotional distress, like the shattering experience of grief.
To state the obvious, a fragmented body or face is not a whole body or face. And I believe it is God’s will that the Body of Christ be whole—all parts in their proper place. Working together. Complete. And in being whole, then the Body of Christ can give light in the darkness to this sinful and broken world.
So we must use and honor all the parts, because they are all necessary to make the body whole. Think about it…An eyeball that can see a glorious sunset, is of no use unless it has a heart and mind to process and enjoy it. A heart full of love needs arms and lips and voice to express the love.
So as I look out at you today, in your chairs at Crissey Farm, I don’t see an eyeball in one chair, a foot in another. I see people who bring many, many gifts to this place. If I could step up on a little balcony, I could see you as a whole, as the body of Christ at St. James. Some are teachers. Some prophets. Some mercy givers and helpers. Some healers. Some offer hospitality. Some nurture others. Some are young, fragile, or frail and need our protection. Some have remarkable abilities to exercise leadership. Some have brilliant, disciplined minds. Some have great pragmatic wisdom. Some remind us to exercise caution, while others are way ahead, boldly out there “leading the charge.” And some have great artistic gifts, which you generously share. But we’re all together, part of an organic whole, sharing our gifts and relying on each other’s gifts. We do this because we know that each of us has a piece of Wisdom and Truth, and none of us has all the Wisdom or Truth, but together we will have a much better opportunity to be Wise and know Truth. So we rely on each other’s gifts in order to best take light into the world and build up the Body of Christ. While we are many parts/members, everyone who is in Christ belongs to the one Body…through our baptisms and through the Holy Spirit.
So our distinctions, the things that make us unique individuals, never bar us from the community. We’re all together in this, and no one part of the Body can claim to be more necessary than another. All of us are equally essential. The gifts God gives us are of equal value. So we must highly regard each other…
It puts a different light on, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” because our neighbors are all part of our self, which is the Body of Christ. And, because we are united as one body, we feel the suffering of any one of the members, and we share the joy of any one of the members because they are part of us and we are part of them.
This way of thinking and being together in this parish family will serve us well as we continue in our process towards discerning the future God is calling us into, and as we discern the kind of building that will best help us live into God’s mission. When we realize we cannot be isolated parts: We’re not eyeballs and ears sitting in the chairs, trying to do our thing without regard or relationship with all the members and those we will serve. When we realize instead we are essential parts of one Body sitting in these chairs, then we’ll know in the depths of our beings, “The body does not consist of one member, but of many, and if we were each just a single member, then there would be no body.”
As we of St. James move forward, and so we’re not fragmented or disassembled like a Picasso painting, we’ve got to stay in right relationship with all our parts, so that we are indeed, together, the Body of Christ, a light in the darkness to this sinful and broken world. Amen.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Reflections on Martin Luther King Jr. Day in La Ceiba – from Jake Pinkston on teaching mission in Honduras
Finals week has arrived for the second term, which means I can finally take a deep breath. I was much more prepared this time around for the pre-finals onslaught. Even so, the race to finish chapters, put together study packets, chase down the students who were missing assignments, and then grade the subsequent deluge of labs, worksheets and test corrections that were the reward for my efforts made it a long week. Now that I have closed grades, things are a lot calmer. Tomorrow I give my four of my five science finals then have the rest of the week to plug in final grades and prepare for the next term. It is all half days this week so I should have plenty of time to recharge. Then I get to start all over again for round three. Still got plenty left in the tank.
Because today the secondary school had math and social studies exams all morning, on Friday the whole school met for an afternoon assembly celebrating the life a work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. While he is not part of the pantheon of great Honduran leaders, Veronica and other faculty felt it important to recognize the accomplishments and impact of the youngest Nobel Peace Price Laureate. Each class from the primary school gave a presentation in the form of a skit, poem or song. The ninth grade class, led by Ms. Betty, ended the ceremony by reading Dr. King’s “I have a dream…” speech. I was tapped at last minute to be the MC so that the teacher organizing the event would be able to marshal her troops more effectively. Besides giving the opening prayer and introducing the groups, my main task was to make sure the children had a microphone in front of them so everyone could hear so I stayed busy. At the end, a box was passed around raising money for the victims in Haiti and many students enthusiastically stuffed in some of their after-school snack money. Amazing.
The presentation was short and simple, but I found it very powerful. Hearing the words of Dr. King, which I have heard many times in my life, coming from the mouths of student who were not American, most of whom had never even seen America but knew first hand the weight of their words gave the speech a whole new meaning. These children know what it means to be oppressed, to be overlooked, ignored, and manipulated. These children know how it feels to live a life where safety is a tenuous hope, never a guarantee. Dr. King speaks for them.
Honduras is the poorest country in Central America. Its massive disparity in wealth distribution leaves a tiny few in power and the masses picking at the scraps. The politicians line their pockets with aid money while the police demand bribes for the simplest of services. Basic infrastructure is crumbling and security worsens as more desperate people looking to make a living get involved in one of the only growing job fields, drug trafficking. The children are extremely bright. They see parallels the between their lives and the lives of minorities living in the United States.
Many of the students are able to come to Holy Trinity because they have family members working in the US, sending money back home. Many have not seen their parents in years because they are working in the country illegally and can never return. They know that if they go to the United States, they will enter a culture that often treats there ethnic group as second class citizens. Yet if you ask any child, they would go in a heartbeat, because the see so little to look forward to if they stay here. Already one of our 10th graders left for New Orleans and another is in the process of getting a visa. While this may benefit the student and family, it only continues the cycle, as the country’s best and brightest head for the doors instead of sticking around and pushing for change. It is hard to blame them. Change is often proposed, seldom accomplished, and can be a dangerous undertaking.
Through it all, the students remain positive. They are not bitter. They are not cynical. They are not defeated. The students continue to work hard because they believe there is a chance they will beat the odds. In my closing comments, I told them that 50 years later, Dr. King’s dream of peace, justice and equality is far from a reality. But it is still alive. It lives in them, in their daily interactions, in their minds, hearts and prayers. It lives because they want it to live. I challenged them not to just remember the dream but make it theirs to achieve: to focus to the possibilities of the future and not the failures of the past. Don’t wait for it to happen. Work toward it today. Work toward it tomorrow. Work toward it together.
Approaching the midpoint of my year, I have begun to reflect on my hopes and goals for my students. I came here with the hope of educating them in the way I was educated so that they might have the opportunity to further their studies, ideally in the United States. However, that goal has become secondary. I now feel that my true mission is to empower my students with the tools, knowledge, and most importantly the will to change their country. I want them to believe that it doesn’t have to be this way and they can be part of the solution. I am beginning to network with several members of the community to find ways to show the student specifically where they can fit into that puzzle, now and in the future. Hopefully I will be able to develop some projects for them for the final term. I want my students to take their American dreams and make them Honduran dreams. The drive for change has to come from within. I cannot do it for them but I will certainly give them all the fuel I can.
“I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.””
Martin Luther King, Jr. - 28 August 1963: Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C.
Isaiah 40: 4-5
Because today the secondary school had math and social studies exams all morning, on Friday the whole school met for an afternoon assembly celebrating the life a work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. While he is not part of the pantheon of great Honduran leaders, Veronica and other faculty felt it important to recognize the accomplishments and impact of the youngest Nobel Peace Price Laureate. Each class from the primary school gave a presentation in the form of a skit, poem or song. The ninth grade class, led by Ms. Betty, ended the ceremony by reading Dr. King’s “I have a dream…” speech. I was tapped at last minute to be the MC so that the teacher organizing the event would be able to marshal her troops more effectively. Besides giving the opening prayer and introducing the groups, my main task was to make sure the children had a microphone in front of them so everyone could hear so I stayed busy. At the end, a box was passed around raising money for the victims in Haiti and many students enthusiastically stuffed in some of their after-school snack money. Amazing.
The presentation was short and simple, but I found it very powerful. Hearing the words of Dr. King, which I have heard many times in my life, coming from the mouths of student who were not American, most of whom had never even seen America but knew first hand the weight of their words gave the speech a whole new meaning. These children know what it means to be oppressed, to be overlooked, ignored, and manipulated. These children know how it feels to live a life where safety is a tenuous hope, never a guarantee. Dr. King speaks for them.
Honduras is the poorest country in Central America. Its massive disparity in wealth distribution leaves a tiny few in power and the masses picking at the scraps. The politicians line their pockets with aid money while the police demand bribes for the simplest of services. Basic infrastructure is crumbling and security worsens as more desperate people looking to make a living get involved in one of the only growing job fields, drug trafficking. The children are extremely bright. They see parallels the between their lives and the lives of minorities living in the United States.
Many of the students are able to come to Holy Trinity because they have family members working in the US, sending money back home. Many have not seen their parents in years because they are working in the country illegally and can never return. They know that if they go to the United States, they will enter a culture that often treats there ethnic group as second class citizens. Yet if you ask any child, they would go in a heartbeat, because the see so little to look forward to if they stay here. Already one of our 10th graders left for New Orleans and another is in the process of getting a visa. While this may benefit the student and family, it only continues the cycle, as the country’s best and brightest head for the doors instead of sticking around and pushing for change. It is hard to blame them. Change is often proposed, seldom accomplished, and can be a dangerous undertaking.
Through it all, the students remain positive. They are not bitter. They are not cynical. They are not defeated. The students continue to work hard because they believe there is a chance they will beat the odds. In my closing comments, I told them that 50 years later, Dr. King’s dream of peace, justice and equality is far from a reality. But it is still alive. It lives in them, in their daily interactions, in their minds, hearts and prayers. It lives because they want it to live. I challenged them not to just remember the dream but make it theirs to achieve: to focus to the possibilities of the future and not the failures of the past. Don’t wait for it to happen. Work toward it today. Work toward it tomorrow. Work toward it together.
Approaching the midpoint of my year, I have begun to reflect on my hopes and goals for my students. I came here with the hope of educating them in the way I was educated so that they might have the opportunity to further their studies, ideally in the United States. However, that goal has become secondary. I now feel that my true mission is to empower my students with the tools, knowledge, and most importantly the will to change their country. I want them to believe that it doesn’t have to be this way and they can be part of the solution. I am beginning to network with several members of the community to find ways to show the student specifically where they can fit into that puzzle, now and in the future. Hopefully I will be able to develop some projects for them for the final term. I want my students to take their American dreams and make them Honduran dreams. The drive for change has to come from within. I cannot do it for them but I will certainly give them all the fuel I can.
“I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.””
Martin Luther King, Jr. - 28 August 1963: Lincoln Memorial, Washington D.C.
Isaiah 40: 4-5
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Rector’s Report--Annual Meeting, January 17, 2010
There was an ad in the Berkshire Eagle Tuesday for a book called, “Mountain Man Insights” (by Henry Kranz). The ad ran a quote from the book, “The handwriting was on the wall. Then the wall collapsed.”
When I gave the Rector’s Report a year ago, I think we were still pretty much in shock. This year although I know we’re all in different places, I think we have moved out of shock and probably out of denial, and into an energetic place of exploration and discernment. We’ve spent, and will continue to spend, countless hours on engineers, architects, attorneys, building inspectors, and insurance people. Much of the rest of this meeting will be about that.But in addition to these things, I am amazed and very proud of the discernment work and the new ministries that have started blossoming this year. I’m also proud of the way we have “carried on” in the midst of our stressful situation.
During the homily, I spoke some about the discernment work. This work has been greatly augmented by our participation in the Partnership for Missional Church (PMC). This process is teaching us new ways of listening to each other, the community, and the Spirit. I think the impact of what we are learning will be lasting on the way we are together and make decisions as a parish. It is such a relief to try to be the Church in a spiritual instead of a secular way! What good news that we are in God’s hands and God has work for us to do that’s part of God’s own mission!
For me personally there is a great sense of joy and a realization that three seemingly different parts of my own journey have come together and been integrated this year as St. James goes through our corporate discernment process.
Those 3 things from my journey are: 1. My 10-year study of Adaptive Challenges in the Clergy Leadership Project. 2. The Ignation spiritual discernment which I’ve used in the past, but only for personal decision making. 3. The PMC process.
In this report, I’d like to highlight a few of this year’s new ministries. On Friday night I received an email from Jake Pinkston, our teaching missioner in Honduras:
“Hey Francie, I realize this is a little late for the annual meeting but I figured since I am sort of on the payroll, I should give you an update.” Now remember last summer when Jake asked us to help make this mission year possible, he told us he was frugal. Well, here’s an accounting of his year: He received $7,290 in gifts from the Diocese of Western Massachusetts, St. James parishioners, Vestry, rector, and choir and from Transfiguration (the church he attended in Colorado). His total expenses for the first six months were $1,621.68! Now we have a new young missioner Jane Clausen, who is working in an AIDS orphanage in Ethiopia.
These are Children of this parish, and we are just so proud of their choices to give of their time, talent and treasure to help children in some of the poorest parts of our world. And I am proud of you as a congregation for supporting them as they grew up and now with your prayers and monetary gifts as they seek to serve.
Another amazing ministry that began this year is Gideon’s Garden. The idea started with our youth, was nurtured by Pennie Curry, and was generously gifted by Dan and Martha Tawczynski of Taft Farms. With our 1/3 acre of land and a lot of labor, the youth of our parish and other youth, as well as many adults, supplied an amazing amount of produce for the People’s Pantry, Breaking Bread Kitchen, The Stockbridge Open Table, and about 6 families.
You know we named this Garden for our first full-time rector, Gideon Bostwick (1770-90). Now Gideon had a real missionary spirit, and traveled to 47 towns, riding on horseback 80-100 miles per week to spread the Gospel & baptize people in CT, VT, NY, and MA. I believe this spirit of taking the Gospel out to people and places beyond our walls is part of St. James’ essential DNA. And this Garden we till, that bears his name, seems to have been taken over by the Holy Spirit and become a place where all kinds of people come, not only to work, but to pray. The Garden has become a prayer chapel, a meditation garden, for people who desperately need a place to be safe and quiet. It’s a place to be still and know that God is God. The people who go there may never step foot inside a conventional church, but I believe for them Gideon’s Garden is a “church without walls.” It’s a non-intimidating, safe place where they have a chance to connect with God.
I wonder if there’s not a metaphor here for us as we seek to find our place in God’s mission. How can we in our own day continue to take the Gospel out beyond the walls of the church, as Gideon Bostwick did? As Jake is doing? As Jane is doing?
I want to thank all of you, because we have carried on here at Crissey Farm in fine form. I especially want to acknowledge the choir and our Minister of Music Charles Olegar for bringing us the Good News week after week in song and sometimes even with noisy gongs and clanging symbols! We are indeed blessed by such remarkable, faithful and creative musicians.
And behind the scenes our Parish Secretary Bonnie Weiland continues to work at home to produce our bulletins and coordinate our schedules. Thanks go as well to Fairview Hospital for letting us do most of our copying there, and for hosting our Executive Committee and Vestry meetings.
Now just think about what all it takes to create our worship experience here at Crissey Farm. First our thanks to Gary and Andrew, who make this space available to us. Then there’s our great Hospitality Team, Altar Guild, Ushers, Greeters, Teachers, Lectors, Prayer Writers, Acolytes, Chalice Bearers, Healing Ministers, and those who set up, take down, and clean up. And those yummy coffee hours! And during coffee hour, the amazing Artist of the Month series that showcases our gifted parish.
If you don’t know, we owe our thanks as well to Wheeler & Taylor, who provide a space for our Thursday Eucharist free of charge.
And I want to say thank you to the Vestry for their time, talent, wisdom and dedication during a very difficult year. Finally I want to acknowledge our Executive Team and invite them to come up: Senior Warden Doreen Hutchinson, Junior Warden Doug Happ, Clerk Lee Cheek, and Treasurer Dick Kelly. You cannot begin to imagine the work these four dedicated souls have done this year. As a token of my appreciation, I’d like to present them all with bottles of POM. It’s a de-stressing/detoxifying pomegranate juice and also with Relaxing flavored tea bags…enjoy! We don’t start again until tomorrow! Thank you all.
When I gave the Rector’s Report a year ago, I think we were still pretty much in shock. This year although I know we’re all in different places, I think we have moved out of shock and probably out of denial, and into an energetic place of exploration and discernment. We’ve spent, and will continue to spend, countless hours on engineers, architects, attorneys, building inspectors, and insurance people. Much of the rest of this meeting will be about that.But in addition to these things, I am amazed and very proud of the discernment work and the new ministries that have started blossoming this year. I’m also proud of the way we have “carried on” in the midst of our stressful situation.
During the homily, I spoke some about the discernment work. This work has been greatly augmented by our participation in the Partnership for Missional Church (PMC). This process is teaching us new ways of listening to each other, the community, and the Spirit. I think the impact of what we are learning will be lasting on the way we are together and make decisions as a parish. It is such a relief to try to be the Church in a spiritual instead of a secular way! What good news that we are in God’s hands and God has work for us to do that’s part of God’s own mission!
For me personally there is a great sense of joy and a realization that three seemingly different parts of my own journey have come together and been integrated this year as St. James goes through our corporate discernment process.
Those 3 things from my journey are: 1. My 10-year study of Adaptive Challenges in the Clergy Leadership Project. 2. The Ignation spiritual discernment which I’ve used in the past, but only for personal decision making. 3. The PMC process.
In this report, I’d like to highlight a few of this year’s new ministries. On Friday night I received an email from Jake Pinkston, our teaching missioner in Honduras:
“Hey Francie, I realize this is a little late for the annual meeting but I figured since I am sort of on the payroll, I should give you an update.” Now remember last summer when Jake asked us to help make this mission year possible, he told us he was frugal. Well, here’s an accounting of his year: He received $7,290 in gifts from the Diocese of Western Massachusetts, St. James parishioners, Vestry, rector, and choir and from Transfiguration (the church he attended in Colorado). His total expenses for the first six months were $1,621.68! Now we have a new young missioner Jane Clausen, who is working in an AIDS orphanage in Ethiopia.
These are Children of this parish, and we are just so proud of their choices to give of their time, talent and treasure to help children in some of the poorest parts of our world. And I am proud of you as a congregation for supporting them as they grew up and now with your prayers and monetary gifts as they seek to serve.
Another amazing ministry that began this year is Gideon’s Garden. The idea started with our youth, was nurtured by Pennie Curry, and was generously gifted by Dan and Martha Tawczynski of Taft Farms. With our 1/3 acre of land and a lot of labor, the youth of our parish and other youth, as well as many adults, supplied an amazing amount of produce for the People’s Pantry, Breaking Bread Kitchen, The Stockbridge Open Table, and about 6 families.
You know we named this Garden for our first full-time rector, Gideon Bostwick (1770-90). Now Gideon had a real missionary spirit, and traveled to 47 towns, riding on horseback 80-100 miles per week to spread the Gospel & baptize people in CT, VT, NY, and MA. I believe this spirit of taking the Gospel out to people and places beyond our walls is part of St. James’ essential DNA. And this Garden we till, that bears his name, seems to have been taken over by the Holy Spirit and become a place where all kinds of people come, not only to work, but to pray. The Garden has become a prayer chapel, a meditation garden, for people who desperately need a place to be safe and quiet. It’s a place to be still and know that God is God. The people who go there may never step foot inside a conventional church, but I believe for them Gideon’s Garden is a “church without walls.” It’s a non-intimidating, safe place where they have a chance to connect with God.
I wonder if there’s not a metaphor here for us as we seek to find our place in God’s mission. How can we in our own day continue to take the Gospel out beyond the walls of the church, as Gideon Bostwick did? As Jake is doing? As Jane is doing?
I want to thank all of you, because we have carried on here at Crissey Farm in fine form. I especially want to acknowledge the choir and our Minister of Music Charles Olegar for bringing us the Good News week after week in song and sometimes even with noisy gongs and clanging symbols! We are indeed blessed by such remarkable, faithful and creative musicians.
And behind the scenes our Parish Secretary Bonnie Weiland continues to work at home to produce our bulletins and coordinate our schedules. Thanks go as well to Fairview Hospital for letting us do most of our copying there, and for hosting our Executive Committee and Vestry meetings.
Now just think about what all it takes to create our worship experience here at Crissey Farm. First our thanks to Gary and Andrew, who make this space available to us. Then there’s our great Hospitality Team, Altar Guild, Ushers, Greeters, Teachers, Lectors, Prayer Writers, Acolytes, Chalice Bearers, Healing Ministers, and those who set up, take down, and clean up. And those yummy coffee hours! And during coffee hour, the amazing Artist of the Month series that showcases our gifted parish.
If you don’t know, we owe our thanks as well to Wheeler & Taylor, who provide a space for our Thursday Eucharist free of charge.
And I want to say thank you to the Vestry for their time, talent, wisdom and dedication during a very difficult year. Finally I want to acknowledge our Executive Team and invite them to come up: Senior Warden Doreen Hutchinson, Junior Warden Doug Happ, Clerk Lee Cheek, and Treasurer Dick Kelly. You cannot begin to imagine the work these four dedicated souls have done this year. As a token of my appreciation, I’d like to present them all with bottles of POM. It’s a de-stressing/detoxifying pomegranate juice and also with Relaxing flavored tea bags…enjoy! We don’t start again until tomorrow! Thank you all.
A Homily preached January 17, 2010, Epiphany 2 C, On the day of the Annual Meeting By the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Because of the way this past year has unfolded and because of the discernment process we’re in, I heard today’s familiar spiritual gifts reading from 1 Corinthians differently this time. I’m reminded of a way we talked about group dynamics when I was in Clinical Pastoral Education training years ago: If everyone in the group was just “in the room together,” doing their own thing, we called it “parallel play”. That means everyone was playing/working in the same room, but in isolation. We were not playing/working TOGETHER for a common good. On the other hand, there were times when we actually played/worked together collaboratively. We shared our” toys”-- our tools, our gifts, our different ways of seeing the world as we approached a common project or process.
I’m reading the 1st Corinthians passage today in a much more collaborative way than I think I have in the past. As Christians we’ve all been given spiritual gifts, and we certainly use these in our various personal lives and in the church. For example, those who have the gift of teaching, teach. Those who have the gift of healing, heal. And so on. Churches tend to do this corporately as well. So if we as a parish identify our main gift as music, then we focus on music. Other churches may focus on children’s education or foreign missions. Now, please don’t hear me wrong: All this is well and good. It comes from asking the question, “what are my/our gifts and how can I/we use them?” ‘Nothing wrong with that except I know it’s easy for us to get into some kind of Ego thing with this approach. Some can’t seem to find their gifts, and this is depressing to them. Others know what their gifts are, but always seem to be looking over their shoulder or on the other side of the fence, wondering why they can’t have someone else’s gifts.
A new approach to this that’s come to me this year, is to get the focus off of my gifts/our gifts and onto God’s mission: To acknowledge that God has a mission, and then to ask, “What is my part/what is St. James’ part in God’s mission.” If we come about it this way, the Ego thing just evaporates, and we see we are really part of God’s great cosmic work of justice and compassion. We realize our play and work cannot be parallel play and work: We’ve got to break down the divisions between us and all come to the table bringing all of our gifts, knowing that what we can be, do, and make together is infinitely more than we can by ourselves.
That’s why I am excited about the process we are in together. I look forward to learning new things from the short reports from the 3 committees later today. But more than that, I look forward to the opportunity we’ll have to listen to each other’s ways of looking at these three options. Of course we’ll all bring our biases to the table. That’s human nature, but it’s good for us to be aware of our biases. In recognizing these, hopefully we can be more open and listening to others’ ideas. I fully believe that today and as we continue in this process, we will hear things we’ve not thought of individually or in our smaller groups. As we sit together and listen, we really have a chance to discern God’s will and God’s mission and to learn from the amazing gifts and the many different ways of seeing things that are present among us today. In this corporate setting I believe we can hear a word from God through the mouths of one another, as the Spirit moves among us.
I pray as we witness the various ways God’s Spirit is manifested among us today, we will come to see more clearly God’s preferred and promised future for us and how we fit into God’s mission of justice and compassion for the world. Amen.
I’m reading the 1st Corinthians passage today in a much more collaborative way than I think I have in the past. As Christians we’ve all been given spiritual gifts, and we certainly use these in our various personal lives and in the church. For example, those who have the gift of teaching, teach. Those who have the gift of healing, heal. And so on. Churches tend to do this corporately as well. So if we as a parish identify our main gift as music, then we focus on music. Other churches may focus on children’s education or foreign missions. Now, please don’t hear me wrong: All this is well and good. It comes from asking the question, “what are my/our gifts and how can I/we use them?” ‘Nothing wrong with that except I know it’s easy for us to get into some kind of Ego thing with this approach. Some can’t seem to find their gifts, and this is depressing to them. Others know what their gifts are, but always seem to be looking over their shoulder or on the other side of the fence, wondering why they can’t have someone else’s gifts.
A new approach to this that’s come to me this year, is to get the focus off of my gifts/our gifts and onto God’s mission: To acknowledge that God has a mission, and then to ask, “What is my part/what is St. James’ part in God’s mission.” If we come about it this way, the Ego thing just evaporates, and we see we are really part of God’s great cosmic work of justice and compassion. We realize our play and work cannot be parallel play and work: We’ve got to break down the divisions between us and all come to the table bringing all of our gifts, knowing that what we can be, do, and make together is infinitely more than we can by ourselves.
That’s why I am excited about the process we are in together. I look forward to learning new things from the short reports from the 3 committees later today. But more than that, I look forward to the opportunity we’ll have to listen to each other’s ways of looking at these three options. Of course we’ll all bring our biases to the table. That’s human nature, but it’s good for us to be aware of our biases. In recognizing these, hopefully we can be more open and listening to others’ ideas. I fully believe that today and as we continue in this process, we will hear things we’ve not thought of individually or in our smaller groups. As we sit together and listen, we really have a chance to discern God’s will and God’s mission and to learn from the amazing gifts and the many different ways of seeing things that are present among us today. In this corporate setting I believe we can hear a word from God through the mouths of one another, as the Spirit moves among us.
I pray as we witness the various ways God’s Spirit is manifested among us today, we will come to see more clearly God’s preferred and promised future for us and how we fit into God’s mission of justice and compassion for the world. Amen.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Ardent Even In The Cold – from Jake Pinkston on teaching mission in Honduras
Fine Scottish weather has arrived in La Ceiba. Like much of the northern hemisphere, Hondurans have been experiencing some unusually cold weather for the last week, accompanied by frequent showers and overcast skies. They don’t like it at all.
Students and faculty alike have been bundled up from head to toe with scarves, jackets, extra socks, even gloves and hats… in class! The dress code was even relaxed so that the students could wear jeans, which are much warmer than the lightweight pants and skirts that are the usual standard. For the first time all year, the windows are closed and the wall fans are off. Still, some students have been shivering in class. The low temperature: an icy 58ยบ Fahrenheit.
I guess it does not quite compare to New England winters but when you are acclimated to subtropical weather, the cool-off is quite a shock. It can be 100 degrees and Hondurans won’t bat an eye, but drop the temperature below 70 and you would think glaciers were coming down off the Nombre de Dios Mountain range. I didn’t know they even had down jackets in Honduras. As for me, I am still teaching in short sleeves and enjoying every minute of it. How nice it is to not have to shout above the hum of fans and traffic and not be sweating bullets all day. My students already thought I was crazy. This has only confirmed their suspicions.
Sadly, it looks like the worst of it has passed and the rest of the week will be in the mid-70s. I am sure I will be looking back fondly on this week in April and May when the country becomes one big sauna again.
The reason for the late post this week is missionary season has begun at Holy Trinity. Dan and Kitty Telep, friends of Mike and Betty from Pittsburgh and well traveled missionaries, spent the last five days with us. It has been nonstop feasting for Mike, Betty, Veronica, Denny (her husband) and me. Saturday night we had a welcome dinner at Veronica’s, also celebrating Dan and Kitty’s 39th wedding anniversary. Sunday we watched the NFL playoffs between brunch and dinner at Mike and Betty’s, and Monday night we dined at La Quinta Real. I offered to have everyone over at my place but when we realized we would have all had to sit on the floor and eat around my bed (I have no tables), we decided it best to go elsewhere. Last night we gave Dan and Kitty a proper send off from a little restaurant right on the beach, complete with a Cuban cigar for Dan before the took off for the US early this morning. It was joyous half week of friends and fellowship. I feel like I am going through party withdrawal cooking dinner at home for the first time in what seems like forever.
Kitty and Dan spent Monday and Tuesday helping out at school. Dan gave the sermon at the Monday morning service and later shared with the students his experiences returning to Vietnam as a missionary after serving in the War. He also helped Mike and Denny with the boys’ shop class. Kitty, the sewing extraordinaire, brought materials and led all the secondary school girls in a bag making project. For two days, she battled through temperamental sew machines that seemed to find new ways to break as soon as she fixed them and showed the girls how to follow the patterns and complete the project. The bags turned out beautifully and the girls were thrilled to have them to take home and show off.
While Kitty and Dan gave talent and treasure to enrich the experiences of the students, their biggest contribution to Holy Trinity was their presence. This was their fourth visit to La Ceiba supporting Mike and Betty in their mission work. Their profound faith, patience, and commitment to service inspired and elevated the spirits of everyone they reached out to. They were warm and engaged, looking for any opportunity to help out and interact. There were several students they had built relationships with over the years and the student’s faces lit up when Dan and Kitty remembered them by name. They also got to know several of our newer students.
At times it is hard for me to gauge my efforts at Trinity, as my perspective comes from my day-to-day work in and out of class. I have extremely high expectations for myself and can at times focus too much on the future while not fully appreciating the present. Dan and Kitty’s positive feedback and encouragement were empowering, especially with their knowledge of the progression of the school over the last few years. It has given me new strength and resolve in my mission here.
It was wonderful having Dan and Kitty at Trinity. We are so grateful for all they did for us. If anyone at St. James is interested in visiting the school, even for a short while, I would love to help make that happen. You have no idea how much of a difference you can make. They brought a spark of energy and purpose that enkindled the hearts and minds of many chilled children. You can too.
“I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with the power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.”
Ephesians 3: 16-17
Students and faculty alike have been bundled up from head to toe with scarves, jackets, extra socks, even gloves and hats… in class! The dress code was even relaxed so that the students could wear jeans, which are much warmer than the lightweight pants and skirts that are the usual standard. For the first time all year, the windows are closed and the wall fans are off. Still, some students have been shivering in class. The low temperature: an icy 58ยบ Fahrenheit.
I guess it does not quite compare to New England winters but when you are acclimated to subtropical weather, the cool-off is quite a shock. It can be 100 degrees and Hondurans won’t bat an eye, but drop the temperature below 70 and you would think glaciers were coming down off the Nombre de Dios Mountain range. I didn’t know they even had down jackets in Honduras. As for me, I am still teaching in short sleeves and enjoying every minute of it. How nice it is to not have to shout above the hum of fans and traffic and not be sweating bullets all day. My students already thought I was crazy. This has only confirmed their suspicions.
Sadly, it looks like the worst of it has passed and the rest of the week will be in the mid-70s. I am sure I will be looking back fondly on this week in April and May when the country becomes one big sauna again.
The reason for the late post this week is missionary season has begun at Holy Trinity. Dan and Kitty Telep, friends of Mike and Betty from Pittsburgh and well traveled missionaries, spent the last five days with us. It has been nonstop feasting for Mike, Betty, Veronica, Denny (her husband) and me. Saturday night we had a welcome dinner at Veronica’s, also celebrating Dan and Kitty’s 39th wedding anniversary. Sunday we watched the NFL playoffs between brunch and dinner at Mike and Betty’s, and Monday night we dined at La Quinta Real. I offered to have everyone over at my place but when we realized we would have all had to sit on the floor and eat around my bed (I have no tables), we decided it best to go elsewhere. Last night we gave Dan and Kitty a proper send off from a little restaurant right on the beach, complete with a Cuban cigar for Dan before the took off for the US early this morning. It was joyous half week of friends and fellowship. I feel like I am going through party withdrawal cooking dinner at home for the first time in what seems like forever.
Kitty and Dan spent Monday and Tuesday helping out at school. Dan gave the sermon at the Monday morning service and later shared with the students his experiences returning to Vietnam as a missionary after serving in the War. He also helped Mike and Denny with the boys’ shop class. Kitty, the sewing extraordinaire, brought materials and led all the secondary school girls in a bag making project. For two days, she battled through temperamental sew machines that seemed to find new ways to break as soon as she fixed them and showed the girls how to follow the patterns and complete the project. The bags turned out beautifully and the girls were thrilled to have them to take home and show off.
While Kitty and Dan gave talent and treasure to enrich the experiences of the students, their biggest contribution to Holy Trinity was their presence. This was their fourth visit to La Ceiba supporting Mike and Betty in their mission work. Their profound faith, patience, and commitment to service inspired and elevated the spirits of everyone they reached out to. They were warm and engaged, looking for any opportunity to help out and interact. There were several students they had built relationships with over the years and the student’s faces lit up when Dan and Kitty remembered them by name. They also got to know several of our newer students.
At times it is hard for me to gauge my efforts at Trinity, as my perspective comes from my day-to-day work in and out of class. I have extremely high expectations for myself and can at times focus too much on the future while not fully appreciating the present. Dan and Kitty’s positive feedback and encouragement were empowering, especially with their knowledge of the progression of the school over the last few years. It has given me new strength and resolve in my mission here.
It was wonderful having Dan and Kitty at Trinity. We are so grateful for all they did for us. If anyone at St. James is interested in visiting the school, even for a short while, I would love to help make that happen. You have no idea how much of a difference you can make. They brought a spark of energy and purpose that enkindled the hearts and minds of many chilled children. You can too.
“I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with the power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.”
Ephesians 3: 16-17
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sermon, January 10, 2010, Epiphany 1 C by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector
Today is the Feast Day of the Baptism of our Lord. In the Church calendar, it’s one of the five traditional days for baptisms and a day for us to renew our Baptismal Vows. However, today we don’t have a baptism, and we will wait and renew our vows next week at the Annual Meeting.
So today I’d like us to focus on the beautiful, comforting passage we read from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. Maybe not this one especially, but many passages from Isaiah are quite familiar to us because they are quoted in the New Testament. Perhaps we know Isaiah best from the passages in the King James Bible that Handel set in “The Messiah.”
Isaiah is a book written over several centuries, probably from the 8th Century Before the Common Era (BCE) until perhaps the 2nd Century BCE. Obviously, the entire book is not written by the same writer, and it is addressed to three very distinct historical situations. We call these three divisions “First,” “Second” and “Third” Isaiah.
Although there are three distinct times, historical situations, and writers, there are two major themes that knit together the centuries, authors, and situations of this entire book. One theme is that God is behind all historical events. The other is that Jerusalem, its king, and the proper worship of God are of central importance to God’s People.
Now today’s passage comes from Second Isaiah. It was written in the mid 6th Century BCE during the time in Israel’s history we call “the Babylonian Exile.” In 586 BCE, forty or so years before, the Babylonians had sacked Jerusalem, destroyed the temple, and scattered God’s Chosen People, sending many into exile in Babylon. Now to try to understand the depth of this tragedy for Israel, we’ve got to realize how central Jerusalem and the Temple were to their religion. In a sense, the City and the Temple was the place where God resided. So that’s the only place where people went to worship. There were no local synagogues yet, so the centrality and holiness of that One place for the people cannot be over estimated.
This is the period of time when the Book of Lamentations was written, and it gives voice to the deep grief the exiled people were experiencing away from their home.
This is also the time for which PS 137 is written:
“By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept,
When we remembered you, O Zion (Jerusalem).
“As for our harps, we hung them up
On the trees in the midst of that land….
“How shall we sing the Lord’s song
Upon an alien soil?
“If I forget you, O Jerusalem,…”
The depth of their grief is profound. And so after close to 50 years of exile, comes a word of hope and comfort from Second Isaiah.
“Thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you…
“You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; . . bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth—everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”
This promise of redemption is probably made shortly before Persia conquers Babylon, and Persia’s benevolent King Cyrus, invites God’s people to return and rebuild Jerusalem. There will be an end to their being scattered and separated from each other. There will be an end to their exile. They will go home.
Can you imagine what balm the prophet’s words were to the ears of the exiles? “You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.” God called them by name and will protect them!
Now, I wanted us to focus on this today because we at St. James are also in exile. We are away from our “sacred space” and many of our “holy things.” We know the pain and grief of this. But, unlike those in the Babylonian Exile, we have not been scattered and dispersed from our city or from each other. We are still together and learning this truth, “The church is not the building but the people (But people who need some kind of sacred space).” We’re also unlike those in the Babylonian Exile, because we haven’t “hung up our harps!” We seem to do a fairly great job of “singing the Lord’s song on an alien soil.” Maybe “alien” is a bit extreme for our circumstances, but we certainly can make music to the glory of God, on the “different” soil at Crissey Farm, Gideon’s Garden, and at our neighboring churches when we join with them.
We’re in the middle of the hard work of discernment. By the world’s standards, we just don’t have enough time; but in some mysterious way, I believe we are doing this discernment work in God’s Time…Kyros Time, that functions in a time and space beyond the clock. I believe in fact the time restraints we’ve been given by the insurance company are somehow part of the way God’s Spirit is working with us. In quoting a book title from C. S. Lewis, Bishop Scruton said, “Perhaps the deadline the insurance company is imposing is a ‘Severe Mercy’ for St. James.”
Yes, we’re in a tough time, and it will no doubt get harder before it gets easier. So I hope we can let the words of the ancient prophet minister to us in our exile, as they did to the Israelites in Babylon.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
As we move more deeply in our discernment of where God is calling St. James, be assured, this God of the Prophets loves us. We are precious in God’s sight. We are honored. This great God has called us by name, and God’s Spirit will be with us every step of the way. Amen.
So today I’d like us to focus on the beautiful, comforting passage we read from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah. Maybe not this one especially, but many passages from Isaiah are quite familiar to us because they are quoted in the New Testament. Perhaps we know Isaiah best from the passages in the King James Bible that Handel set in “The Messiah.”
Isaiah is a book written over several centuries, probably from the 8th Century Before the Common Era (BCE) until perhaps the 2nd Century BCE. Obviously, the entire book is not written by the same writer, and it is addressed to three very distinct historical situations. We call these three divisions “First,” “Second” and “Third” Isaiah.
Although there are three distinct times, historical situations, and writers, there are two major themes that knit together the centuries, authors, and situations of this entire book. One theme is that God is behind all historical events. The other is that Jerusalem, its king, and the proper worship of God are of central importance to God’s People.
Now today’s passage comes from Second Isaiah. It was written in the mid 6th Century BCE during the time in Israel’s history we call “the Babylonian Exile.” In 586 BCE, forty or so years before, the Babylonians had sacked Jerusalem, destroyed the temple, and scattered God’s Chosen People, sending many into exile in Babylon. Now to try to understand the depth of this tragedy for Israel, we’ve got to realize how central Jerusalem and the Temple were to their religion. In a sense, the City and the Temple was the place where God resided. So that’s the only place where people went to worship. There were no local synagogues yet, so the centrality and holiness of that One place for the people cannot be over estimated.
This is the period of time when the Book of Lamentations was written, and it gives voice to the deep grief the exiled people were experiencing away from their home.
This is also the time for which PS 137 is written:
“By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept,
When we remembered you, O Zion (Jerusalem).
“As for our harps, we hung them up
On the trees in the midst of that land….
“How shall we sing the Lord’s song
Upon an alien soil?
“If I forget you, O Jerusalem,…”
The depth of their grief is profound. And so after close to 50 years of exile, comes a word of hope and comfort from Second Isaiah.
“Thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you…
“You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you…Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; . . bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth—everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”
This promise of redemption is probably made shortly before Persia conquers Babylon, and Persia’s benevolent King Cyrus, invites God’s people to return and rebuild Jerusalem. There will be an end to their being scattered and separated from each other. There will be an end to their exile. They will go home.
Can you imagine what balm the prophet’s words were to the ears of the exiles? “You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.” God called them by name and will protect them!
Now, I wanted us to focus on this today because we at St. James are also in exile. We are away from our “sacred space” and many of our “holy things.” We know the pain and grief of this. But, unlike those in the Babylonian Exile, we have not been scattered and dispersed from our city or from each other. We are still together and learning this truth, “The church is not the building but the people (But people who need some kind of sacred space).” We’re also unlike those in the Babylonian Exile, because we haven’t “hung up our harps!” We seem to do a fairly great job of “singing the Lord’s song on an alien soil.” Maybe “alien” is a bit extreme for our circumstances, but we certainly can make music to the glory of God, on the “different” soil at Crissey Farm, Gideon’s Garden, and at our neighboring churches when we join with them.
We’re in the middle of the hard work of discernment. By the world’s standards, we just don’t have enough time; but in some mysterious way, I believe we are doing this discernment work in God’s Time…Kyros Time, that functions in a time and space beyond the clock. I believe in fact the time restraints we’ve been given by the insurance company are somehow part of the way God’s Spirit is working with us. In quoting a book title from C. S. Lewis, Bishop Scruton said, “Perhaps the deadline the insurance company is imposing is a ‘Severe Mercy’ for St. James.”
Yes, we’re in a tough time, and it will no doubt get harder before it gets easier. So I hope we can let the words of the ancient prophet minister to us in our exile, as they did to the Israelites in Babylon.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
As we move more deeply in our discernment of where God is calling St. James, be assured, this God of the Prophets loves us. We are precious in God’s sight. We are honored. This great God has called us by name, and God’s Spirit will be with us every step of the way. Amen.
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