February 9, 2023: the Exchange of the Peace

Our Scripture lessons every Sunday have many purposes and functions. Often, they offer moral and spiritual guidance, as, for example, Jesus’ teachings from the Sermon on the Mount, which have been the subject of our gospel readings these past few Sundays. Other times, our lessons teach us history that allow us to appreciate how God’s people in generations past have encountered many of the challenges that face us today, and how God stood faithfully by their sides just as He stands by us. And still other times, our Scripture readings teach us deep theological truths about the nature of God.

Sometimes, though, these lessons also help us to understand our liturgy and why we do what we do during worship on Sundays. This week’s gospel text is one such example. In yesterday’s Bible study, among other verses from Matthew, chapter 5, we considered this teaching by Jesus: “So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to you brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift” (Matthew 5:23-24).

What do we make of this? On one level, this verse is just a part of Jesus’ teaching on anger and broken relationships, and his point is simply that all Christian must endeavor to work toward forgiveness and reconciliation, setting aside things like enmity, bitterness, jealousies and envy, and all negative feelings that create friction and division within Christian community.

And it is also more than that, making its way into our worshipping life each Sunday. Indeed, this teaching about reconciliation was viewed by the early Church as so foundational that it became the theoretical cornerstone of what we now call “the Exchange of the Peace,” which comes at the end of the Liturgy of the Word and before Holy Communion. You know, it is when the Pastor says: “May the peace of the Lord be always with you,” the congregation responds, “And also with you,” and then everyone greets one another with the sign of the peace.

This moment in the liturgy is much more than an opportunity for socializing or stretching your legs. Its original purpose was a much more solemn one: to invite everyone in the community to be reconciled to one another—i.e., forgive each other for any past wrongs, hurts, or slights, and “make peace” with one another—just before receiving the sacred gift of the sacrament of bread and wine.

This is how one ELCA worship guide explains the “Exchange of the Peace”:

The exchange of peace is a ministry, an announcement of grace we make to each other, a summary of the gift given to us in the liturgy of the Word. This ministry we do to each other is far greater than a sociable handshake or a ritual of friendship or a moment of informality. Because of the presence of Jesus Christ, we give to each other what we are saying: Christ’s own peace. Then, having been gathered by the Spirit around the Risen One present in the word, we turn to celebrate his meal.

If you want to learn more about this topic, and how it relates to our gospel lesson this Sunday, visit the following link. Paper copies will be available at the Entrance Table on Sunday morning.

I offer this not just as a bit of bible study or liturgical history, but also in the hope that it might re-frame how you experience this moment in our worship. Yes, “exchanging the peace” can still be a pleasant opportunity to warmly greet your neighbor, but it should also be an invitation to soften your heart and let go of that grudge or other negative feeling that is keeping you from loving everyone as Christ wants you to love.

February 2, 2023: The Desert of Compassion

Now that we’ve turned the calendar to February, your pastor has started thinking about Lent. We still have three Sundays of Epiphany to go, but Ash Wednesday will be here before we know it, this year falling on Wednesday, February 22.

Lent, of course, is a time for self-examination and reflection. In this season, we are invited to go into the wilderness with Christ for a conversation about how we are doing. Despite what you may have heard, Lent is not so much a time to wallow in guilt about our many foibles and failures as it is an opportunity to listen to Christ about how we might grow and mature in our faith in the days ahead.

Every Lent, I like to try a new devotional to help me along in this journey. This year I have selected a new book by Pastor Rachel Srubas entitled The Desert of Compassion: Devotions for the Lenten Journey. A Benedictine oblate and Presbyterian minister, Rachel pastors a Presbyterian church in Tucson, Arizona. Her book was just published last month, so I have yet to read it. But I’ve heard good things about it from readers who received advance copies and my perusal of it this past week confirms that it seems a thoughtfully constructed devotional.

My proposal to you is that we read it together during Lent. The book is organized so that for each day of Lent, from Ash Wednesday all the way to Holy Saturday, there is a short Scripture reading, a reflection, and a prayer. The book is only 170 pages, so it is to be lingered over rather than rushed through.

My thought is that after church on Sundays during Lent (roughly from 10:45 to 11:30 a.m.), those who are interested might join me for a discussion of each week’s entries as we make our way through the book. I have ordered a couple dozen copies from my local bookseller and I should have them in hand and available for purchase at church starting Sunday, February 12. I hope you will join me in this Lenten journey of reading, reflection and prayer. Stay tuned for more details in the coming weeks.

January 5, 2023: Resolutions

So, what are your New Year’s resolutions going to be? That is a question that many of us start asking each other this time of year. According to one website I stumbled across, the top ten resolutions this year are:

1. Exercise more
2. Lose weight
3. Get organized
4. Learn a new hobby
5. Save more money
6. Spend less money
7. Drink less
8. Spend more time with family and friends
9. Travel more
10. Read more

Sound familiar? Most of us have been here before, resolving to improve ourselves in one way or another, but usually failing.

One of the more comprehensive scientific studies of New Year’s resolutions was done by Professor Richard Wiseman of the University of Bristol in England in 2007, who checked in with 3000 English folk of different demographics in early January that year to get a list of their resolutions, and then he followed up with them twelve months later. The results? 88% of the participants failed to keep a majority of their resolutions.

For Christian theologians, this result is not surprising in the least. It falls under the rubric we call ‘sin,’ which in the Greek literally means to ‘miss the mark.’ The sad truth about human nature is just this: when it comes to doing what we should, we tend to miss the mark fairly consistently. The Christian conviction is that we are all broken people in one way or another, and that one of the first steps in the life of faith is humbly to admit as much. That is one reason we always confess our sins each Sunday before we come to the altar to receive the renewing gift of Christ’s body and blood.

The trouble, though, is that our broader culture refuses to accept sin as a truth about human nature, insisting instead that “I’m okay, and you’re okay,” and that everything will be better if we all just try a little harder. The American civil religion is one of self-improvement, self-reliance, and a relentless can-do optimism that refuses to accept limits to what we can accomplish. And so we have a multi-billion dollar cosmetics industry that denies the reality of aging; a multi-billion dollar digital entertainment industry that seeks to divert us from really meaningful human activity; and a multi-billion dollar drug and alcohol industry committed to medicating us when life’s disappointments rear their ugly little heads.

Almost imperceptibly, we have moved from being a Puritan nation that was admittedly too preoccupied with human weakness and moral failure to a nation that has completely expunged ‘sin’ from its vocabulary, believing that human happiness is just one more pill, or one more facelift, or one more Porsche, away. When the quintessentially American entrepreneur David Rockefeller was once asked: “so how much money is enough?” he famously replied: “just a little more.” We are a people obsessed with achieving, and ever confident we can create our own happiness, all results to the contrary notwithstanding.

Which is why the Incarnation we just celebrated is such good and welcome news. It turns out, you see, that our relationship with God is not about achieving; it is about receiving. I can’t tell you what a hard lesson this is for type-A, self-reliant Yankees to learn, but it is the gospel truth. We become God’s children by receiving the gift of the Christ child in faith, not by achieving anything on our own.

So, does this mean we can all kick back, get fat and be happy, because we are saved by faith and need do nothing on our own? By no means! If our faith is genuine, it will lead slowly but surely to transformation. When we really feel loved, we inevitably will want to be our best selves for our lover. The fancy theological word for this is sanctification. What the law cannot accomplish in us through our own sweat and toil, faith in God can. Such change certainly doesn’t happen overnight, and it often occurs in fits and starts, but once Christ’s love gets ahold of you, strange and remarkable things can happen.

So, what does this mean, then, about our New Year’s resolutions? Well, if you want to bet that you’ll be among the 12% of the population who are lucky enough to keep your own resolutions this year, then by all means, make them and take your chances. But here is another strategy you might consider. Instead of resolving to achieve this or that goal to improve your self – like losing weight or exercising more or spending less – you might resolve to give up on your self altogether and instead merely receive something: something, say, like God’s love in the holy child Jesus. Because my conviction is that if we all stop believing in our selves quite so much, and instead believe in what God can do in and through and with us, it is much more likely that Christ’s love will lead us into healthier and more fulfilling patterns of living. We may or may not lose those few extra pounds, but we are very likely to leave the world a better place and, by doing so, find ourselves an eternal home.

December 25, 2022: A reflection on Mary

Every Advent I spend a fair amount of time reflecting on Mary and her extraordinary experience as the mother of Jesus. While we Protestants may not accept everything our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters have to say about Mary, I am convinced we nevertheless have a lot to learn from her about who God is.

One reason Christians have long venerated Mary, I think, is because we know deep in our hearts that the relationship between a mother and a child may well be the closest thing most humans experience to the love that God has for us. Consider for a moment what our mothers have done for us: they suffered hours of painful labor to bring us into the world, they nursed us, bathed us, changed our diapers, put up with our tantrums, kissed our bruised knees, consoled us through the emotional ups and downs of our adolescence, wiped tears from our eyes when we were hurt. But more than that, mothers are always there, ready with their love when we most need it.

You remember, I’m sure, the story of the Runaway Bunny, the classic children’s book by Margaret Wise Brown; the story in which a little baby bunny keeps trying to run away from his mother. “If you run away,” says the mother, “I will run after you. For you are my little bunny.” “I will become a bird,” the little bunny says, “and fly away from you.” “If you become a bird and fly away from me,” says his mother, “I will be a tree that you come home to.” Finally the little bunny says, “Shucks, I might just as well stay where I am and be your little bunny.” “Have a carrot,” says the mother bunny. Such is the mysterious simplicity of a mother’s unconditional love.

To say that a good mother loves unconditionally, however, is not to say that she loves uncritically. “You can be anything you want to be, even president of the United States,” says the Good Mother. “Now stand up straight, don't slouch and clean up your room. I'm not your maid,” she reminds us. The Good Mother knows that to make us the good people God created us to be, it’s often necessary to push, cajole, chide, and, yes, sometimes even discipline.

It’s been said of Jesus that He loves us just the way we are and that He loves us too much to leave us the way He found us; to which all Good Mothers would say “Amen,” as they ask if we really are going to school dressed like that! I wonder if Mary ever had occasion to utter such words to her son as he made his way to temple? He was completely human after all.

December 1, 2022: First Coming

Dear Friends in Christ,

It can be a challenge to maintain hope in a world as dark as ours, as we witness the tragic war in Ukraine drag on, watch innocent people across America continue to fall victim to our national love affair with guns, and remember that some countries have been plagued by violent conflict for a very long time (e.g., Afghanistan, Yemen, Mali, Haiti, Myanmar, Venezuela, Honduras, to name a few). Where is the good news in all this, I want to ask myself?

And yet, when I start to feel such despair overtake me, I remind myself that the Christian faith was born into a world every bit as violent as ours. Indeed, in an important respect the whole point of the Incarnation, of God coming into our world, was precisely to confront humanity’s violent ways so that we might be saved from ourselves. And the fact of the matter is that God did not allow the darkness to extinguish the light then, and He will not now. This is the conviction of Advent.

This theological truth is beautifully captured by the writer Madeleine L’Engle in her poem “First Coming.” I always go back to it during the season of Advent and I commend it to your prayers.

First Coming by Madeleine L’Engle

He did not wait till the world was ready, till men and nations were at peace. He came when the Heavens were unsteady, and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time. He came when the need was deep and great. He dined with sinners in all their grime, turned water into wine.

He did not wait till hearts were pure. In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt. To a world like ours, of anguished shame he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh, to heal its tangles, shield its scorn. In the mystery of the Word made Flesh the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane to raise our songs with joyful voice, for to share our grief, to touch our pain, He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Blessings, Pastor Luther

November 17, 2022: Christ the King

This coming Sunday (Nov. 20) marks the end of the liturgical year and is often called “Christ the King Sunday” or the “Reign of Christ Sunday.” You will be hearing more about the history of this feast day during my sermon, but whatever we make of its origins, the day closes out the Christian year by inviting us to reflect on what it means to call Christ our “king.”

Then, the following Sunday (Nov. 27), right after our Thanksgiving celebrations with our families, we turn the page on the Christian calendar, and begin a whole new liturgical year (Lectionary Year A) with the First Sunday of Advent.

As I was thinking about this transition in our sacred seasons, it occurred to me that it might be helpful if I offered an Adult Forum devoted to the topic of “Christian time” and how Christians organize the year a little differently from the secular calendar. And so, if you’re interested, please stay around on Sunday for this discussion, which I have entitled “Living into the Christian Year.”

As a teaser, I will say this much now, in the hope you may be interested in learning more: the Christian year is divided into seasons – Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost. These seasons follow the basic shape of Jesus’ life, beginning with Mary’s pregnancy, his birth, his public ministry, his journey to the Cross, the miracle of his Resurrection, and then, after his ascension, concluding with the birth and mission of the Church.

Each of these liturgical seasons has its own symbolic color, which we often mark visibly with church decorations – the frontals of the altar table and lectern; the stole the pastor wears; the banners which sometimes hang in the sanctuary.

Thus, the blue of Advent reminds us that we are waiting for royalty – Christ our King. The white or gold of Christmas marks the light that has entered the world as God becomes human. Green during Epiphany reminds us that as we meet Jesus in the gospels we grow in Christ. Purple for Lent is the color of repentance, that time of year when we take stock of our lives and seek ways to return to God. White for Easter (like Christmas) is a color of joy, when we celebrate that Christ has risen and a whole new creation comes into the world. Red for the Day of Pentecost reminds us that God has given us the Holy Spirit and “fired us up” to spread the good news throughout the world. Finally, the green for the Sundays after Pentecost marks the longest season, inviting us to grow even more deeply in Christ – to do the hard work of building up his kingdom.

But alas, I am stealing my own thunder! If you want to learn more, and talk about ways we can live more meaningfully into these seasons, join me at the Adult Forum on Sunday.

November 3, 2022: All Saints Day

This Sunday we will celebrate All Saints’ Day. Among other things, we will sing that great Ralph Vaughn Williams’ hymn, For All the Saints, and include in our prayers the names of all those loved ones whom we have lost these past few years. Everyone will also be given the opportunity to light a candle for a ‘saint’ dear to you if you so wish during communion.

All of which raises the question: so, who exactly is a ‘saint’ within the meaning of All Saints Day?

According to the New Testament, there is an important and primary sense in which all faithful Christians, both those living and the departed, are ‘saints’ because they share in the life of Christ by virtue of baptism. Thus, the term ‘saint’ is applied to all faithful Christians throughout the Acts of the Apostles (see, e.g., Acts 9:32, 26:10), and Paul routinely addresses the members of the Christian communities that receive his letters (see Rom 1:7, 1 Cor 1:2, 2 Cor 1:1, Eph 1:1, Phil 1:1, Col 1:2) as ‘saints.’ We are ‘saints’ on this view not because of the merits of our behavior, but only because Christ makes it possible for us to be saints by allowing us to share in his life, initially in baptism and then with the nourishment of the Eucharist. We are, in Paul’s language: washed, sanctified, and justified “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (1 Cor 6:11).

As the church evolved throughout history, however, the term ‘saint’ came to have another meaning: referring to “elite” Christians whose lives were distinguished and exemplary because of their self-sacrifice, witness, virtue, or accomplishments. Special recognition was given to the martyrs of the early church. The saints and martyrs were in a sense the heroes of the church.

The medieval church also developed a theological framework for understanding this distinction, one that is still enshrined in official Roman Catholic theology. The Roman Church divides the faithful departed into two categories: the church triumphant – that is, those exemplary Christians (i.e., full-fledged ‘saints’) whose lives were sufficiently holy to warrant immediate entry into heaven; and the church expectant – those departed Christians whose lives were faithful but not yet quite holy enough for heaven, and who reside in an intermediate state of purification called ‘purgatory,’ as they make their way toward heaven.

For this reason, Roman Catholics venerate, and pray to or with ‘saints,’ because they are believed to be in more intimate relationship with Christ, and can intercede on behalf of all Christian pilgrims, both living and dead, who are still moving toward purification. Accordingly, the Roman church has developed an elaborate and complicated process for canonizing those persons to be named saints. For Roman Catholic Christians, saints are more than just witnesses of the faith; they are also protectors and intercessors. Saints' days proliferated in the western church during the Middle Ages. Churches and institutions were named for saints. Many faithful people made pilgrimages to shrines of saints. The Reformers strenuously objected to this understanding of ‘sainthood,’ believing it to be grounded in an unbiblical theology of ‘works righteousness.’ In Luther’s famous phrase, we are all simultaneously both ‘saints and sinners’; only Christ is purely saintly. It is our faith in what Christ has done on our behalves that saves us; not our works, which inevitably fall short, even the works of heroic Christians. Heroic Christians from the past, for Protestants, have no ‘special status’ in heaven or intercessory power. In keeping with this view, the Reformers also emphatically rejected the idea of ‘purgatory,’ and believe that all faithful Christians enjoy a life in Christ after death without distinction.

So exercised was Luther about this issue that he once preached an All Saints’ Day sermon in which he famously objected to the veneration of departed ‘saints.’ With characteristic directness and hyperbole, he wrote:

“I have previously and often said how the saints should be honored. That is, you must make a distinction between the saints who are dead and those who are yet living, and what you must do for the saints. You must turn away from the dead and honor the living saints. The living saints are your neighbors, the naked, the hungry, the thirsty, poor people; those who have wives and children, who suffer shame, who lie in sins. Turn to them and help them. That is where you are to apply your works. . . . You have God’s command to help the living but He has not commanded you to do anything for the dead. There is no command that you should honor dead saints so . . . let go of that and turn to those whom you know God is pleased that you honor. Don’t we have enough to do pursuing what God has in fact commanded us to do?”

This, of course, slightly overstates the case. Luther was certainly right that we should direct most of our energies to those living who are in need of our help. But that doesn’t mean we can’t from time to time – including on All Saints’ Day – pay honor to the lives of those who have gone before us so that we can learn from them. Thus, despite Luther’s diatribe in this one sermon, Lutheran and Episcopal churches still observe All Saints’ Day and continue to believe that remembering ‘holy lives’ can be helpful in learning what Christian discipleship can look like. Understood in this sense, saints are not superheroes but witnesses of the faith who can teach us about discipleship in different historical and cultural contexts.

In short, then, on Sunday we will honor all the saints, both the dead and the living, as we give thanks for and learn from the myriad, beautiful ways in which flesh-and-blood human beings have lived, and continue to live, into their faith.

October 13, 2022: "What is the Church?"

Earlier this fall we lost one of the great Christian writers of the past century, Frederick Buechner. Buechner was a Presbyterian minister who started out as a school chaplain and then became more of a writer than anything else. If you haven’t read him before, I urge you to pick up one of his books. Wishful Thinking is a good place to start, as it is a good, short introduction to both Buechner’s passion for the Bible and his great wit.

Although Buechner was an extraordinary writer and teacher of the faith, he honestly didn’t have much patience for church, as he was the first to admit.

“I don't go to church all that regularly,” he once told an interviewer, “and one reason I don't is very often when I go I am bored out of my wits. I find myself being addressed by preachers who, I assume, were led by some initial passion for Christ, for the truth, for God, for ‘the More’ we’re all seeking. That's what got them there. But apparently, what once got them there is now buried under all the debris of having to run a church and keep it going.”

I suspect we all feel this from time to time. The challenges of endless meetings, balancing budgets, fixing boilers, and yes, even putting up with boring sermons, can sometimes so dominate our experience of church that we forget what brought us here and is at the heart of it all – the living Christ.

This coming Sunday we are going to resume our Adult Forum hour by taking up the question “what is church?” I’ll lead the discussion with some preliminary thoughts, but my hope is that my presentation will lead us into a conversation about who we are, and who God is calling us to be, as “church.” This seems like an important and timely topic as we are reemerging from the pandemic, facing the continuing secularization of our culture, and embarking up the call of a new pastor. I hope you can join us.

October 6, 2022: Wow! Thanks! Oops! Gimme!

For many years, as you know, I was a chaplain to an elementary school and one of my tasks was to teach young children about prayer. God knows, we all need help in learning how to pray. In order to make things as simple as possible for my students, I borrowed a clever trick I learned from a Reform rabbi (Marc Gellman) and a Christian writer (Annie Lamott), both of whom teach that prayer really comes down to four simple words: Wow! Thanks! Oops! Gimme!

“Wow!” is that part of prayer in which we express our wonder at the world and everything in it. Prayer is praise and celebration. Too often we just drift through our daily lives failing to notice the miracles right under our noses. The beauty of a sunrise; the extraordinary complexity of the bodies we inhabit; the agility of the minds we rely on each and every minute of the day; the vastness of this universe of billions and billions of galaxies. “Wow” is the only apt response.

“Thanks!” is that part of prayer that remembers that all of life is a gift. We did nothing to deserve this. Why was I born to loving parents of means while others live as orphans in poverty? Why do I have an abundance of food in my house while others go hungry? Why am I surrounded by caring friends when others live lives of quiet and lonely desperation? I don't know the answers to these questions, and I suspect you don't either. But I do know that the answer to them is not because we did something to deserve these gifts. Gratitude is the only apt response to the giftedness of life, and that is why prayer always includes “Thanks!”

“Oops!” is that part of prayer in which we admit our mistakes. We're not perfect. No one is. We all have faults. We all have dark corners in our lives, shadowy places we would just as soon not acknowledge. We needn't beat ourselves up about these flaws or our failures, but we are asked to be honest about them. Indeed, the surest way to be free of the burden of our mistakes is to name them, offer them up to God's mercy, and then to rejoice in the extraordinary fact that God will always forgive the contrite. If you're old-fashioned, you can call it “confession,” but “Oops” will do just fine.

“Gimme!” is that part of prayer in which we ask for things. It comes at the end of prayer for a reason. Only after saying our “wows” of wonder at everything God has created, only after giving thanks for all the gifts of this life to which we can claim no credit, and only after humbly owning up to the ways in which we have fallen short and made a mess of our lives, do we dare ask for help. But we needn't feel ashamed about asking. For part of the wonder of God is that, like a mother, God wants nothing more than to know our deepest desires and needs and He invites us to share them in prayer. And so, we ask. At first, as we start out in the practice of prayer, it is natural to ask for ourselves. But then something remarkable happens. As we mature in the life of prayer, and grow in our relationship with God, our asking takes on a new character. We find that we ask less and less for ourselves, and more for those around us. For this is the direction that prayer leads: it takes us out of ourselves and into the world. In true prayer, we lose our own self-absorbed identity and are taken up into the mysterious outpouring of love that God holds for all humanity and all creation.

Wow. Thanks. Oops. Gimme. Try it some time. You needn't worry about fancy language, sounding sanctimonious, or impressing anybody with your eloquence. Just be yourself. Tell God: Wow, I can't believe what you've created. Thanks for all I have. Oops, I'm sorry for the mess I've made of what you’ve given me. And please gimme help … give me and the world what we need to do your work in this troubled world, all for your love's sake. Amen.

September 29, 2022: The Feast of St. Francis

It was wonderful to be back at Holy Trinity this past Sunday for worship, to reconnect yesterday with our Wednesday bible study group, and to once again be working alongside your faithful Ministry and Office Coordinator, Mark Donahue. I look forward to being with you all these coming months.

In my Episcopal tradition, the first Sunday of October is often set aside to honor St. Francis and to celebrate the gift of Creation which Francis loved so much. So, I hope you will indulge me this coming Sunday as we do just that at Holy Trinity. In place of the usual lectionary readings for the Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost, we will instead read the lessons and sing some of the hymns suggested for the Feast of St. Francis.

I don’t know about you, but I feel a desperate need in these fragile times to be in the company of holy women and holy men. For saints, even in the midst of darkness, have a way of reminding us that God’s light will not be extinguished but continues to shine in the lives of faithful folk around the world. And certainly, St. Francis remains an inspiring example of what the Christian life at its best can look like.

One of my favorite reflections on saints is from the writer Frederick Buechner (who died just a few months ago) in his book Wishful Thinking. This is what Buechner says about saints:

“In his holy flirtation with the world, God occasionally drops a pocket handkerchief. These handkerchiefs are called saints. Many people think of saints as plaster saints, men and women of such paralyzing virtue that they never thought a nasty thought or did an evil deed their whole lives long. As far as I know, real saints never even come close to characterizing themselves that way. On the contrary, no less a saint than Saint Paul wrote to Timothy, ‘I am foremost among sinners’ (l Timothy 1:15).

In other words, the feet of saints are as much of clay as everybody else's, and their sainthood consists less of what they have done than of what God has for some reason chosen to do through them. When you consider that Saint Mary Magdalene was possessed by seven devils, that Saint Augustine prayed, ‘Give me chastity and continence, but not now,’ that Saint Francis started out as a high-living young dude in downtown Assisi, and that Saint Simeon Stylites spent years on top of a sixty-foot pillar, you figure that maybe there's nobody God can’t use as a means of grace, including even ourselves.

The Holy Spirit has been called ‘the Lord, the giver of life’ and, drawing their power from that source, saints are essentially life-givers. To be with them is, in a phrase, to become more alive.” In the short time I have been at Holy Trinity, it has become abundantly clear to me that in this church I am in the midst many, many life-giving saints. Thank you for inviting me into your beloved community. Together, with God’s help, and with holy witnesses like St. Francis, we will get through these challenging times!

Finally, I would be remiss if I concluded these remarks on St. Francis without offering the great prayer attributed to him:

Lord, make us instruments of your peace: where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.

O Holy One, grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

Blessings, Luther

May 12, 2022: My Interim Journey for the Spring has come to an end.

Dear friends in Christ,

It is hard to believe that the time has come for us to part ways. I am so grateful that you invited me to accompany you on this interim journey. In particular, I give thanks for our Sunday worshipping community and the talented musicians and singers who made our time together so joyful; for our faithful Wednesday bible study group; for the leadership of your Council and Transition Team during this interim period; for the unfailing help and good cheer of Mark Donahue in the office; for the gracious support of your Altar Guild and Worship Committee; and for everyone else in this church who touched my life in ways both large and small. I hope to see you this Sunday for one final opportunity to worship together.

In the meantime, let me leave you with this prayer:

O God, you have bound us together for a time as pastor and people to work for the advancement of your reign on earth in this place: We give you humble and hearty thanks for the holy ties that have bound us these several months. We thank you for giving us the resilience to worship in creative ways as we emerge from this pandemic; for the opportunity to love and serve one another and our wider world; and for your guidance and wisdom as we prepare for the next chapter in our community life. We thank you also for the unexpected joys and hidden blessings that each day has brought. But especially we thank you for your never-failing presence through it all, and for the deeper knowledge we have gained of you and each other. Now, we pray, be with those who leave and with those who stay; and grant that all of us, drawing ever nearer to you, may always be close to each other in and through the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. All this we ask for the sake of Jesus Christ, your Son and our Lord. Amen.

May God bless you and keep you,

Pastor Luther

May 5, 2022: My Shepherd Will Supply My Need

This coming Sunday is often called "Good Shepherd Sunday" because our gospel text on the fourth Sunday of Eastertide is always drawn from the tenth chapter of John's gospel where Jesus assures his disciples that he is (then, now, and always) our Good Shepherd. On this Sunday we also always hear the Twenty-Third Psalm, that most beloved of psalms.

Psalm 23 is, of course, frequently associated with funerals, no doubt because of its profound promise that "yea, though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Because of its power, the psalm has been set to music in many memorable ways, including the hymn, The King of Love My Shepherd Is, which we will sing as our "Hymn of the Day" this Sunday.

There is, however, another beautiful musical paraphrase of the psalm that is near and dear to the hearts of Episcopalians, and that is Isaac Watts' hymn, My Shepherd Will Supply My Need. That particular hymn was unforgettably seared into my consciousness when I heard it sung some two decades ago at the National Prayer Service in Washington, D.C., following the September 11, 2001 tragedy. When the nation gathered on September 14th in Washington’s National Cathedral to mourn, and cry, and pray, what moved our hearts was not the presence of all the living American Presidents and other dignitaries; nor Billy Graham’s sermon; nor the eloquent prayers said by the bishops, deans, and other clergy gathered that day. Rather the moment that rendered everyone speechless was when the little boy and girl choristers of the Cathedral took to the chancel steps, and sung Isaac Watt’s gorgeous anthem in their pure and innocent voices. If you don't remember the moment from the televised coverage, or even if you do, it is worth another watch. You can find it here.

I can't promise that we will sing Isaac Watts' hymn this well on Sunday, but it will be among our communion hymns.

I hope to see you on Sunday, my second to last service with you. I wish I could stay longer!

In Christ, Pastor Luther

April 27, 2022: "Why Us?" Adult Forum

This coming Sunday, we will have an abbreviated (though joyful!) worship service, so as to allow time for an hour-long congregational conversation entitled "Why Us?" This exercise is a crucial part of our transition team's efforts to discern what our collective hopes and dreams are for Holy Trinity as we move toward calling a new pastor.

As you will remember, earlier in the year, the Transition Team asked everyone in the congregation to answer three simple questions: (1) What brought you here? (2) What makes Holy Trinity right for you? and (3) What will keep you coming back? Last Sunday, at church, we distributed the collated (and slightly edited) responses we received. In case you missed it, you can find this summary document here. We encourage you to read over these responses before our conversation. They will frame our conversation on Sunday.

In addition, as part of my homily this week, I hope to offer some of my own reflections on what I have experienced here as your interim pastor, and what I see as some of your many gifts, as well as some "growing edges." I then will facilitate a conversation in which I invite you to share your own assessment of what you have read and heard, and what your hopes are for Holy Trinity's future.

This will be one more opportunity to share directly with the Transition Team what you think is important for pastoral candidates to know about this church. Please come and let us know why Holy Trinity matters to you and where you think God is calling us!

In Christ, Pastor Luther

April 21, 2022: Happy Easter!

Happy Easter! I am so disappointed that I wasn't able to be with you on Easter Sunday, but from what I've heard, you had a perfectly grand celebration of this joyous day. Fortunately, the party is not over as Easter is not merely a day of rejoicing, but a whole season. We call it the Great Fifty Days, and so, we will continue the celebration throughout April and May, all the way until the Day of Pentecost.

This coming Sunday, in addition to continuing our Easter party, we also get to celebrate a baptism. Little Mac David Rouleau was born to Kelly and Mark Rouleau on April 7 and we will be welcoming Mac into the family of Christ at our 9:30 a.m. service. We hope you can be with us to greet little Mac!

Even though I was sad I couldn't be with you this past Sunday, I was grateful to be with my Emmanuel Church flock on Easter morning, first on the beach at sunrise and then later in our lovely chapel. If you're interested in reading my Easter sermon, you can find it here. You'll see that I give you a short "shout out" at the beginning!

I hope your Eastertide is off to a joyous start!

Pastor Luther

April 7, 2022: Hosanna!

Dear friends in Christ,

Welcome to Holy Week, as this Sunday we welcome Jesus into Jerusalem waving palm fronds and cheering him on with loud cries of "Hosanna!" The sacred week that lies ahead of us is a journey that, in the words of Debie Thomas, "holds within it the fullness of the human story -- the highs, the lows, the hopes, the fears. In the span of seven days, we do it all: we praise, process, break bread, wash feet, make promises, break promises, deny, betray, condemn, abandon, grieve, despair, disbelieve, and celebrate. This week, we see the light at the end of the tunnel, lose our vision of it entirely in the grimness of death, and then find it again, drenched in glory."

I do hope you will join us for worship throughout this week, beginning with our Palm Sunday liturgy at 9:30 a.m. this Sunday, as we sing together the familiar refrains of All Glory, Laud and Honor and welcome our King into Jerusalem with shouts of joy.

Blessings,

Pastor Luther

March 24, 2022: Parable of the Prodigal Son

One of my very favorite parables of Jesus is the "Parable of the Prodigal Son" from Luke’s gospel. So endlessly rich in meaning, the parable has inspired many great works of art and literature. Among the greatest of these is Rembrandt’s famous painting of the parable, a copy of which I keep on the wall of my office.

Rembrandt’s painting focuses on the scene in the parable where the father joyously receives the younger (prodigal) son who returns home seeking his father’s forgiveness after having squandered his early inheritance on dissolute living. Rembrandt beautifully captures both the tender mercy of the father’s embrace of his younger, repentant son as well as the bitter gaze of the older, self-righteous brother watching from the darkened corner of the canvas, unable to accept the “unfairness” of the father’s forgiving acceptance of the younger brother.

One of the central questions posed by the parable and the painting is: who are we in this story? Are we the repentant child, who makes mistakes but owns up to them and seeks forgiveness; or the resentful child, who feels entitled to what he or she has, is blind to his or her own failures, and can’t quite accept that God’s love transcends our own feeble conceptions of justice and extends to everyone who genuinely seeks it? And what about the father who loves so extravagantly and shows such mercy...can we possibly reflect this kind of love in our own treatment of each other?

The parable is an excellent lens through which to explore Christian themes of sin, repentance and forgiveness, and for that reason every third year it is appointed as our gospel text on the Fourth Sunday in Lent. I hope you can join us for worship this Sunday as we explore the parable's meaning for our lives.

In Christ, Pastor Luther

March 16, 2022: We mustn't lose hope.

Dear friends in Christ,

As Russia's unprovoked war on the Ukraine continues to escalate, and global tensions mount, it is easy to despair of the state of the world. And yet, we mustn't lose hope. While there may be no telling how long this war will go on, and how much suffering it will cause, we should also keep our eyes open for the glimpses of light that are emerging from the darkness.

Two small stories in particular captured my attention this past week. The first is the story of a school in Italy where all the teachers and students gathered to joyously welcome two Ukrainian refugee students on their first day at their new school. You can find the short video clip here. As Jesus put it, "the kingdom of God belongs to children such as these." Luke 18:16.

I also have been moved by the courageous faithfulness of Ukrainian Christians during this awful war. Apparently Psalm 31 in particular has become a cornerstone of their prayer life. Here is a short video of a wide variety of Ukrainians praying the psalm in the context of their daily lives.

May our own faith be strengthened by these examples, and may the God whose peace passeth all understanding bring a speedy end to this tragic war.

Lenten blessings,

Pastor Luther

March 3, 2022: Lent begins!

And so, the holy and beautiful season of Lent begins! Yesterday, our two Ash Wednesday services were well-attended and my sense is that those who came appreciated not only receiving ashes, but perhaps even more so, gathering as a community around the altar to receive real bread and wine for the first time in quite awhile. I know our four-year-old granddaughter Emerson enjoyed baking the communion bread with her Nana Pat.

This coming first Sunday in Lent we will likewise be returning to our customary communion practices for those who so wish to participate, and we will be adding some more music to the service as well. You can view the bulletin at the link above. I hope to see you there.

This is also a reminder that I will be away on vacation from March 6-13. Pastor George Koch will be presiding and preaching on the Second Sunday of Lent. During my absence, please call Mark in the Church Office with any pastoral emergencies and he will connect you with someone.

Finally, once I return, I will be offering a mid-week Lenten prayer service on Wednesdays at 12:30 pm beginning on March 16. The simple service will consist of a short reading from Scripture, a meditation, and some prayers, and will last no longer than 20 minutes. It will be live-streamed and available to be viewed at any time thereafter on our Youtube channel and Facebook page. People are also invited to attend the prayer service in person (in the chapel) if they so wish.

May God bless you and keep you this day and always,

Pastor Luther

February 24, 2022: Prayers for the people of Ukraine.

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

As we awake this morning to the news of Russia invading Ukraine, I invite you to pray fervently for the people of Ukraine and for all those affected by this outbreak of war. Recently, in her pastoral message about this growing conflict, the Presiding Bishop of the ELCA, the Rev. Elizabeth A. Eaton, reminded us of Jesus' words from the Beatitudes that "blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God." Matt 5:9. We as the church are called everywhere and always to be peacemakers. Let us do what we can to urge those in authority to bring this war to an end.

Let me close with a prayer offered this morning by the global leader of my own Anglican Communion, the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby: "God of peace and justice, we pray for the people of Ukraine today. We pray for peace and the laying down of weapons. We pray for all those who fear for tomorrow, that your Spirit of comfort would draw near to them. We pray for those with power over war or peace, for wisdom, discernment and compassion to guide their decisions. Above all, we pray for all your precious children, at risk and in fear, that you would hold and protect them. We pray in the name of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. Amen."

In Christ, Pastor Luther

February 17, 2022: Relaxing our Covid Restrictions

Dear friends in Christ,

Of the many sacrifices we have been required to make because of the pandemic, one of the most difficult has been a diminished liturgy. At first, of course, during the height of COVID, we were prevented from gathering in person at all, and were compelled to move our liturgical life to an online platform. As things improved somewhat last spring, we were able to resume in-person worship, outside at first when the weather was warm, and then eventually inside. As we moved inside, however, we had to endure significant restrictions necessary for our health and safety: mask wearing; social distancing; limitations on singing; a shortened service to minimize the amount of time people are gathered; restrictions on eucharistic practice; to name just a few.

Now that infection rates are beginning to decline, and public health officials are relaxing some of these restrictions, your Council, Worship Committee and Interim Pastor have met and concluded that we can gradually resume some important aspects of our worshipping life. Accordingly, while social distancing is required and masks continue to be recommended, beginning in Lent, in other respects you will begin to see a return to some familiar patterns of worship:

Communion: While the current "communion kits" will still be available for those who wish to use them, commencing with our Ash Wednesday services we will return to consecrating the bread and the wine on the altar and distributing it in our customary manner (with the important exception that we will of course not be using a "common cup," but individual, disposable cups for the wine). In addition, we will return to a somewhat more expanded communion liturgy (adding back in, for example, the sanctus and longer versions of eucharistic prayers). My hope is that a safe and cautious resumption of more "normal" patterns of communion will help to restore and renew us as a worshipping community.

Music: Likewise, you will begin to hear more music in the liturgy, including, for example, the return of a hymn for the day, a kyrie or canticle of praise before the lessons, and perhaps other additions. While masks will still be a necessary safeguard for singing, we can at least enjoy a more robust musical element to our worship life.

Your participation in leading worship: Finally, but just as importantly, I hope that more of you will be able to participate as lectors, prayer leaders, and communion assistants. The liturgy does not belong to the pastor but is rather a shared ministry with the people, and it becomes more meaningful as more of us lend our gifts to leading it. Mark Donahue will be accepting volunteers to serve in these roles and I invite you to contact him if you feel called to serve during Lent.

All of these changes may not happen at once, but we will move to introduce them as quickly as we safely can, always keeping our eye on the guidance we're receiving from health and safety officials and the synod. The season of Lent seems like an appropriate time to be enriching our worshipping life in these ways, and I hope this comes to you as good news. I'll be saying more about these matters in the coming Sundays.

Faithfully, Pastor Luther