I bought it with a great deal of reluctance, and even extreme doubt that it would end a love affair. While I loved the performer, and I certainly loved the material, I feared that somehow the combination of the two would leave me disappointed and even a bit jaded. She has always been a singer grounded in a true connection to the world in which she lived and the people who strove to live in it. The songs are some of the most well known songs, sung by people all over the world, in celebration of a singularity that forever changed men and women of faith's relationship with their creator.
Annie Lennox and Christmas Carols...it could have been a disaster, but instead it is an incarnation, an epiphany, a revelation of the power of music to reveal faith and celebration. So many of my own favorite seasonal songs, sung in our own Christmas Eve service - "The Holly and the Ivy," "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," "In the Bleak Midwinter," and "Silent Night" - illumined with a new voice, with her own polemical pop style, given a new importance, a new insistence that we hear the songs as if they were being sung for the first time.
If you know Annie Lennox's work, you know how it can both entertain and enjoin the listener to both appreciate and respond in very powerful and profound ways. A great artist is not one that is simply always pleasant and popular. Most performing artists who move beyond the entertainment industry want to make a mark, make a stir, and make a difference.
This is what God was doing in the history of our salvation. At one moment in time in the history of our human existence, when for many there was no hope for freedom, no hope for forgiveness, no hope for anything, God ripped through the firmament separating heaven and earth, bridging a gap that humankind in its arrogance and ignorance had created. God made a mark, made a stir, and made a difference in the hearts, minds and souls of all who recognized that from the moment of our Savior's birth, nothing in the universe would ever be the same.
When we celebrate the Feast of the Incarnation during our Christmas season, we will lovingly embrace old traditions, repeat old patterns, share in time honored ways, and yet we are always invited to keep in mind that no matter how many times we repeat the choruses and refrains of our Christmas rituals, it's not difficult to feel that same way we did the first time we gazed at a tree brought into the house as a sign of promise, the candles lit that were signs of light in our dark days, of the nativity which is the sign of the birth of Jesus and the birth of our salvation. And somehow it feels new, again and again. Like singing old carols in a new way, like shaking one another's hands and wishing peace in a new way, like celebrating the Holy Eucharist and making what happened two thousand years ago new, brand new in this present moment.
I love Annie Lennox - I'm a child of the 80's! But I've fallen in love all over again because of the way she has breathed life into songs I thought I knew. And I love her for what she has reminded me about the whole point of the Christmas season...everything old IS new again!
Happy Christmas!
Peace in Christ,
Fr. Shawn
Friday, December 17, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Three Churches - Part Three: Cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris, France
It's been a while - and I have to return to the reflections on the three churches I began last spring/summer, after returning from London/Canterbury/Paris. I think I've been resisting this reflection because of all the experiences, this was the most puzzling.
First, I have to admit the overwhelming awe that gripped me as I approached the west door of Notre Dame de Paris. Awe at its beauty, especially in the afternoon sun, which shone across the front of the church. Awe at its testament to French faith and culture. Awe at the beauty of its gothic design that captured the awesomeness of God.
Second, though, I have to admit the overwhelming sense of disconnection once we went inside. For there was a definite division between those who were there for worship and those that were there for site seeing. The two were absolutely integrated, tourists and children running through the apse, faithful pilgrims deep in prayer, acolytes lighting altar candles for Holy Eucharist, gift booths in the nave where you could purchase refigerator magnets and postcards to send home. And votives EVERYWHERE, constantly being replaced and cash boxes being emptied.
I suppose this is the world in which we live - where the sacred and the profane live, not side by side, but completely integrated. Where the holy and and homey coexist. While I am sure that is the way of the world, I feel a lament that those places that were vortices of faith and worship have lost their individual identity. That the sacred spaces of history have lost their sacrality and that those who enter them may not have the same sense of awe that inspired those who built these great structures, those who make pilgrimage to these fantastic palaces of faith, or those who simply recognize that there are places in our world where the veil between this reality and the divine are permeated by prayer and grace.
Perhaps I am a romantic or a sentimetalist. Or maybe too, too spiritual for my own good. I can't help it - I have stood on the border of the holy, and have gazed on the divine. I want for everyone to share this sensation - of beauty, of grace, and of awe.
First, I have to admit the overwhelming awe that gripped me as I approached the west door of Notre Dame de Paris. Awe at its beauty, especially in the afternoon sun, which shone across the front of the church. Awe at its testament to French faith and culture. Awe at the beauty of its gothic design that captured the awesomeness of God.
Second, though, I have to admit the overwhelming sense of disconnection once we went inside. For there was a definite division between those who were there for worship and those that were there for site seeing. The two were absolutely integrated, tourists and children running through the apse, faithful pilgrims deep in prayer, acolytes lighting altar candles for Holy Eucharist, gift booths in the nave where you could purchase refigerator magnets and postcards to send home. And votives EVERYWHERE, constantly being replaced and cash boxes being emptied.
I suppose this is the world in which we live - where the sacred and the profane live, not side by side, but completely integrated. Where the holy and and homey coexist. While I am sure that is the way of the world, I feel a lament that those places that were vortices of faith and worship have lost their individual identity. That the sacred spaces of history have lost their sacrality and that those who enter them may not have the same sense of awe that inspired those who built these great structures, those who make pilgrimage to these fantastic palaces of faith, or those who simply recognize that there are places in our world where the veil between this reality and the divine are permeated by prayer and grace.
Perhaps I am a romantic or a sentimetalist. Or maybe too, too spiritual for my own good. I can't help it - I have stood on the border of the holy, and have gazed on the divine. I want for everyone to share this sensation - of beauty, of grace, and of awe.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
My Soul Magnifies the Lord
“Nor need we power or splendour, wide hall or lordly dome; the good, the true, the tender, these form the wealth of home.” Sarah Josepha Hale
In the mid-nineteenth century, Sarah Josepha Hale, an editor of the Goody's Lady Book, a periodical for women, took it under her wing to be the advocate for a national day of thanksgiving, a holiday established by the federal government which advocated a celebration of the gifts we have been given and a recognition that these are gifts of grace which have been given to us in our Creator's providence and love of creation. She petitioned numerous presidents, and finally was able to convince President Abraham Lincoln that a national day of thanks was not only valuable but necessary.
Her argument came at a most unexpected moment in our nation's history - in the midst of the Civil War, September 1963, she presented the president with a unifying and uniting idea. Along with our responsibility of stewardship over earthly creation, humankind has been given the gifts of abundance, abundant live, abundant resources, abundant beauty. These gifts themselves mandate our praise and thanksgiving to our God.
Go back to the first century of Palestine, which like our own land of the mid-nineteenth century, found itself in the midst of civil strife, community challenge, hunger and oppression. In the midst of that amazing time, our Creator sent a messenger to an unwed teenage girl, that she had been chosen and filled with grace to be the one to bear the Incarnate God into this world. She too, like Sarah Hale, became a messenger herself, proclaiming this great news - that our God who loved us and who cared for us wished us to know it so perfectly that the chasm between Creator and creation would be spanned, that God would become human, and that she, Mary, would be the God-Bearer. Her words, sung out in joy in the gospel of Luke, celebrate the grace of our God.
"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior."
As we begin our Advent journey, a time of preparation for the Incarnation of our God, let us, like Mary, give thanks for God's grace, God's abundance, and God's love of creation. By offering our thanks and praise to God, we do indeed make room for him to enter into our homes, our lives, our selves.
Peace in Christ,
Fr. Shawn
In the mid-nineteenth century, Sarah Josepha Hale, an editor of the Goody's Lady Book, a periodical for women, took it under her wing to be the advocate for a national day of thanksgiving, a holiday established by the federal government which advocated a celebration of the gifts we have been given and a recognition that these are gifts of grace which have been given to us in our Creator's providence and love of creation. She petitioned numerous presidents, and finally was able to convince President Abraham Lincoln that a national day of thanks was not only valuable but necessary.
Her argument came at a most unexpected moment in our nation's history - in the midst of the Civil War, September 1963, she presented the president with a unifying and uniting idea. Along with our responsibility of stewardship over earthly creation, humankind has been given the gifts of abundance, abundant live, abundant resources, abundant beauty. These gifts themselves mandate our praise and thanksgiving to our God.
Go back to the first century of Palestine, which like our own land of the mid-nineteenth century, found itself in the midst of civil strife, community challenge, hunger and oppression. In the midst of that amazing time, our Creator sent a messenger to an unwed teenage girl, that she had been chosen and filled with grace to be the one to bear the Incarnate God into this world. She too, like Sarah Hale, became a messenger herself, proclaiming this great news - that our God who loved us and who cared for us wished us to know it so perfectly that the chasm between Creator and creation would be spanned, that God would become human, and that she, Mary, would be the God-Bearer. Her words, sung out in joy in the gospel of Luke, celebrate the grace of our God.
"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior."
As we begin our Advent journey, a time of preparation for the Incarnation of our God, let us, like Mary, give thanks for God's grace, God's abundance, and God's love of creation. By offering our thanks and praise to God, we do indeed make room for him to enter into our homes, our lives, our selves.
Peace in Christ,
Fr. Shawn
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Like a Good Neighbor
"Every child should have a caring adult in their lives. And that's not always a biological parent or family member. It may be a friend or neighbor. Often times it is a teacher." - Joe Manchin
Sometimes I am more than a little proud of my primary profession as an educator. I love teaching. I can remember the first time I was in front of a classroom. I was teaching adjunct at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia. The course was Introduction to Public Speaking, a night course, and most of the class was older than me. Still, the moment that a student understands a concept and applies that understanding in a practical way, the moment you see "the light bulb" illuminate above their head, there is such a feeling of accomplishment. You know that you made a difference in their lives.
Making a difference and being good neighbors is an important part of our faith as well. When asked, "Who is my neighbor?", Christ's response was unequivocal - everyone is our neighbor. In Lawrence Park, our neighbors have very special needs. Statistical data shows that there are more single parents, especially single mothers, in our zip code than anywhere else in Erie County. Our desire is always to reach out to neighbors and try to meet their special needs. While it's often difficult for congregations of our size to make a significant impact, we do have a resource that can be shared - our facility. We can certainly make a difference in the lives of others by reaching out in some ways to these parents who have to work very hard to raise their children.
With the exception of the community meals program, our building is empty Sunday's after Holy Eucharist through Saturday morning when I start the weekend with Morning Prayer. This July, I was approached by the YMCA to ask if we would be one of the sites where they might conduct their pre-school, before/after school program for children with parents who work, work early (before school hours), or work late (after school hours). The program, with it's fully qualified and certified teachers and staff, has been successful in other churches, including St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Waterford, PA. Fr. Norm Field sings the praises of the relationship. Our use agreement with the YMCA is modeled on that agreement and is being reviewed by both the bishop and the diocesan chancellor.
In the coming weeks and months, we will be entering into this agreement with those who are having a positive impact on our neighbors - providing care and guidance for children of parents who have to work hard and long hours, providing a safe place for young people to come to enhance their learning, providing direction and opportunity to care-givers and cared-for alike. Our bishop has asked us not to be "absent landlords" in this new ministry, but to uncover new and exciting ways by which we as a faith community can also have an impact on these young people and their families.
We are called to be good neighbors. We are called to share the gifts and resources that God has given us to benefit others. I am certain that the congregation of St. Mary's will rise to this ministerial challenge that God has set before us.
Peace in Christ,
Fr. Shawn
Sometimes I am more than a little proud of my primary profession as an educator. I love teaching. I can remember the first time I was in front of a classroom. I was teaching adjunct at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia. The course was Introduction to Public Speaking, a night course, and most of the class was older than me. Still, the moment that a student understands a concept and applies that understanding in a practical way, the moment you see "the light bulb" illuminate above their head, there is such a feeling of accomplishment. You know that you made a difference in their lives.
Making a difference and being good neighbors is an important part of our faith as well. When asked, "Who is my neighbor?", Christ's response was unequivocal - everyone is our neighbor. In Lawrence Park, our neighbors have very special needs. Statistical data shows that there are more single parents, especially single mothers, in our zip code than anywhere else in Erie County. Our desire is always to reach out to neighbors and try to meet their special needs. While it's often difficult for congregations of our size to make a significant impact, we do have a resource that can be shared - our facility. We can certainly make a difference in the lives of others by reaching out in some ways to these parents who have to work very hard to raise their children.
With the exception of the community meals program, our building is empty Sunday's after Holy Eucharist through Saturday morning when I start the weekend with Morning Prayer. This July, I was approached by the YMCA to ask if we would be one of the sites where they might conduct their pre-school, before/after school program for children with parents who work, work early (before school hours), or work late (after school hours). The program, with it's fully qualified and certified teachers and staff, has been successful in other churches, including St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Waterford, PA. Fr. Norm Field sings the praises of the relationship. Our use agreement with the YMCA is modeled on that agreement and is being reviewed by both the bishop and the diocesan chancellor.
In the coming weeks and months, we will be entering into this agreement with those who are having a positive impact on our neighbors - providing care and guidance for children of parents who have to work hard and long hours, providing a safe place for young people to come to enhance their learning, providing direction and opportunity to care-givers and cared-for alike. Our bishop has asked us not to be "absent landlords" in this new ministry, but to uncover new and exciting ways by which we as a faith community can also have an impact on these young people and their families.
We are called to be good neighbors. We are called to share the gifts and resources that God has given us to benefit others. I am certain that the congregation of St. Mary's will rise to this ministerial challenge that God has set before us.
Peace in Christ,
Fr. Shawn
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Pentecost II 2010
Pentecost II 2010
Our liturgical color during the season following Pentecost is green, symbolizing growth. For us at St. Mary's, we have seen some growth in our Sunday attendance, we've seen revitalized growth in our continued ministry to our children, youth, and young adults - thanks to the much appreciated efforts of Bill McLean and Heather Nemenz. We've seen growth in our worship and a renewed sense of what it means to gather together as a family.
An area into which we have been asking ourselves to grow on the bishop's committee is in the area of evangelism - how are we sharing the Good News? I'm sure you've heard the common theme of challenge during the sermons - Christian is not a state of being, but an action verb. It is taking our hearts, minds, resources, and energies, and doing good work in our neighborhoods and in our community, It is showing others that the gift of Jesus Christ in our own lives has transformed us, reshaped us, and invited us to reach out to others in love, in care, in forgiveness.
I know that it is not in our nature in the mainline Catholic traditions to boldly proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ. We are much more likely to sit back, not rock the boat, not put someone off. We don't readily share our own stories of how God became an essential part of our lives. Part of it is that we are shy, and part of it is that we'll be perceived or labeled for our faith.
But we have all been commissioned as disciples of Christ - in our baptism, we descended with Christ into the waters, and came out a new creation. We are saved, forgiven, and charged to share our Good News with others. And even the shy can do that, and even the least open environment can welcome our good works in His name. Helping a neighbor, who has been gruff or rude, in spite of their own demeanor, can confound the most cantankerous soul. Saying "Hi!" to the person who most offends or embarrasses you in the grocery store or restaurant can surprise and even challenge them to wonder, "Why?"
Our answer is first in our own hearts - Jesus Christ, son of the Living God, has had mercy on me. In return, I am following His example, and I extend love and mercy to others. The greatest criticism of Christianity is that we are often caught in our hypocrisy - we preach love yet we advocate animosity; we preach forgiveness yet we openly condemn; we preach reconciliation yet we build walls. If we are to share the Gospel, we have to accept what Jesus has proclaimed for us and then live our lives as we truly believe it.
Evangelism is that simple. The not-so-old folk song that many of us sang in church and camp tells it directly and clearly: "They will know we are Christians by our love."
Fr. Shawn
Vicar, St. Mary’s Episcopal Church
Our liturgical color during the season following Pentecost is green, symbolizing growth. For us at St. Mary's, we have seen some growth in our Sunday attendance, we've seen revitalized growth in our continued ministry to our children, youth, and young adults - thanks to the much appreciated efforts of Bill McLean and Heather Nemenz. We've seen growth in our worship and a renewed sense of what it means to gather together as a family.
An area into which we have been asking ourselves to grow on the bishop's committee is in the area of evangelism - how are we sharing the Good News? I'm sure you've heard the common theme of challenge during the sermons - Christian is not a state of being, but an action verb. It is taking our hearts, minds, resources, and energies, and doing good work in our neighborhoods and in our community, It is showing others that the gift of Jesus Christ in our own lives has transformed us, reshaped us, and invited us to reach out to others in love, in care, in forgiveness.
I know that it is not in our nature in the mainline Catholic traditions to boldly proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ. We are much more likely to sit back, not rock the boat, not put someone off. We don't readily share our own stories of how God became an essential part of our lives. Part of it is that we are shy, and part of it is that we'll be perceived or labeled for our faith.
But we have all been commissioned as disciples of Christ - in our baptism, we descended with Christ into the waters, and came out a new creation. We are saved, forgiven, and charged to share our Good News with others. And even the shy can do that, and even the least open environment can welcome our good works in His name. Helping a neighbor, who has been gruff or rude, in spite of their own demeanor, can confound the most cantankerous soul. Saying "Hi!" to the person who most offends or embarrasses you in the grocery store or restaurant can surprise and even challenge them to wonder, "Why?"
Our answer is first in our own hearts - Jesus Christ, son of the Living God, has had mercy on me. In return, I am following His example, and I extend love and mercy to others. The greatest criticism of Christianity is that we are often caught in our hypocrisy - we preach love yet we advocate animosity; we preach forgiveness yet we openly condemn; we preach reconciliation yet we build walls. If we are to share the Gospel, we have to accept what Jesus has proclaimed for us and then live our lives as we truly believe it.
Evangelism is that simple. The not-so-old folk song that many of us sang in church and camp tells it directly and clearly: "They will know we are Christians by our love."
Fr. Shawn
Vicar, St. Mary’s Episcopal Church
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Pentecost 2010 - Shavu'ot - Haverai, n'varekh.
Pentecost 2010
Jesus was a Jew. Sometimes this can be a shock to many Christians. There is a story about a dear friend who was completely bowled over by this fact - "What do you mean Jesus was a Jew? He was Roman Catholic, wasn't he?" No...Nor was he an Anglican/Episcopalian, though I must admit that in my theocentrism, I would imagine that if Jesus were around today, he would feel very comfortable at St. Mary's Lawrence Park! At least, I would hope that he would be happy with what we're doing.
Jesus and his disciples (who were also Jewish, by the way) celebrated Shavu'ot fifty days after Passover. This celebration, also known as the Festival of Weeks, was a celebration of gifts. Agriculturally, the celebration marked the harvesting of the first fruits and the bringing of them to the Temple. Historically, it also marked the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. On Sunday, May 16, my wife and I were blessed to join with members of the Brith Sholom Congregation and friends from the Erie community to celebrate another gift - the gift of devotion, teaching, and inspiration from Rabbi Leonard Lifshen, who celebrated forty years of rabbinical ministry. We were reminded of the importance of the celebration of Shavu'ot, and the invitation to also share our own gifts to help better our stewardship of God's creation.
In the Christian tradition, Pentecost is the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit, one of the first fruits of Christ. Just as the Torah is God's inspiration to live in right relationship with one another and with God, so does the Holy Spirit inspire us to reconcile ourselves with one another and with God. The Spirit inspires, challenges, and facilitates those relationships, and invites us to use the gifts of the Spirit to better our world.
The Holy Spirit works in mysterious ways - leading us, guiding us, helping us. During these first few weeks of the season of Pentecost, may we each find our own ministries empowered by the Spirit. May we each have the strength to respond to the needs of those entrusted to us, as Rabbi Len continues to respond to those entrusted to his care. May we each be thankful for the many promises and invitation to salvation of God, fulfilled in Christ, and extended through us to all.
Jesus was a Jew. Sometimes this can be a shock to many Christians. There is a story about a dear friend who was completely bowled over by this fact - "What do you mean Jesus was a Jew? He was Roman Catholic, wasn't he?" No...Nor was he an Anglican/Episcopalian, though I must admit that in my theocentrism, I would imagine that if Jesus were around today, he would feel very comfortable at St. Mary's Lawrence Park! At least, I would hope that he would be happy with what we're doing.
Jesus and his disciples (who were also Jewish, by the way) celebrated Shavu'ot fifty days after Passover. This celebration, also known as the Festival of Weeks, was a celebration of gifts. Agriculturally, the celebration marked the harvesting of the first fruits and the bringing of them to the Temple. Historically, it also marked the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. On Sunday, May 16, my wife and I were blessed to join with members of the Brith Sholom Congregation and friends from the Erie community to celebrate another gift - the gift of devotion, teaching, and inspiration from Rabbi Leonard Lifshen, who celebrated forty years of rabbinical ministry. We were reminded of the importance of the celebration of Shavu'ot, and the invitation to also share our own gifts to help better our stewardship of God's creation.
In the Christian tradition, Pentecost is the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit, one of the first fruits of Christ. Just as the Torah is God's inspiration to live in right relationship with one another and with God, so does the Holy Spirit inspire us to reconcile ourselves with one another and with God. The Spirit inspires, challenges, and facilitates those relationships, and invites us to use the gifts of the Spirit to better our world.
The Holy Spirit works in mysterious ways - leading us, guiding us, helping us. During these first few weeks of the season of Pentecost, may we each find our own ministries empowered by the Spirit. May we each have the strength to respond to the needs of those entrusted to us, as Rabbi Len continues to respond to those entrusted to his care. May we each be thankful for the many promises and invitation to salvation of God, fulfilled in Christ, and extended through us to all.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Three Churches - Part Two: Canterbury Cathedral, Canterbury, Kent
It ain't no Vatican, but...
As I stepped through the great gatehouse and saw the towers of the cathedral before me, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, my eyes welled with tears, and I found myself unable to speak. I called home and tried to share with my wife and son what was in front of me, but I could barely say, "I'm home."
Home - the spiritual home, the center of our Anglican Communion - Canterbury Cathedral. To be honest, it's not the most impressive cathedral in England. I haven't seen them all, but certainly Salisbury Cathedral, Norwich Cathedral, St. Paul's in London are all more impressive, more visually stunning. But in this church was the seat of St. Augustine of Canterbury, the chair in which many an archbishop had sat, had looked out upon the faithful in his care, looked back upon the history of faith and evangelism that brought him to that place, and maybe even looked forward in hopeful anticipation that all that he would do and say would help bring people closer to God and to Christ.
I was especially touched that during the course of the few hours visit, at the top of each hour, a cleric called all within the cathedral to a moment of silence, and then to prayers for the Christian church. At times, additional intercessions and petitions were made. Surprisingly, everyone stopped. The cathedral became quiet and still. Regardless of faith or journey, for a brief moment, all were at prayer.
It was more than just a token moment of silence. It was an affirmation that this was a holy place, a sacred precinct, in which centuries of faithful pilgrims had come and offered thanksgiving, intercession, petition, praise to our Creator. And regardless of how each person in Canterbury Cathedral understood it, each paused for a moment and made an affirmation that there was a greater power, a greater good, a God, to whom belonged glory, honor, and blessing.
The politics of our communion may be tested during these progressive lurches at the beginning of the 21st century - and there may well be members of the Anglican Communion who look upon me as an apostate for my social views. But regardless of where we stand on any issue, for at least a moment each hour, we stand together, in silent prayer, to our God, to his Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ, and to our inspiring Advocate, the Holy Spirit.
Praise God in his Holy Temple!
As I stepped through the great gatehouse and saw the towers of the cathedral before me, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, my eyes welled with tears, and I found myself unable to speak. I called home and tried to share with my wife and son what was in front of me, but I could barely say, "I'm home."
Home - the spiritual home, the center of our Anglican Communion - Canterbury Cathedral. To be honest, it's not the most impressive cathedral in England. I haven't seen them all, but certainly Salisbury Cathedral, Norwich Cathedral, St. Paul's in London are all more impressive, more visually stunning. But in this church was the seat of St. Augustine of Canterbury, the chair in which many an archbishop had sat, had looked out upon the faithful in his care, looked back upon the history of faith and evangelism that brought him to that place, and maybe even looked forward in hopeful anticipation that all that he would do and say would help bring people closer to God and to Christ.
I was especially touched that during the course of the few hours visit, at the top of each hour, a cleric called all within the cathedral to a moment of silence, and then to prayers for the Christian church. At times, additional intercessions and petitions were made. Surprisingly, everyone stopped. The cathedral became quiet and still. Regardless of faith or journey, for a brief moment, all were at prayer.
It was more than just a token moment of silence. It was an affirmation that this was a holy place, a sacred precinct, in which centuries of faithful pilgrims had come and offered thanksgiving, intercession, petition, praise to our Creator. And regardless of how each person in Canterbury Cathedral understood it, each paused for a moment and made an affirmation that there was a greater power, a greater good, a God, to whom belonged glory, honor, and blessing.
The politics of our communion may be tested during these progressive lurches at the beginning of the 21st century - and there may well be members of the Anglican Communion who look upon me as an apostate for my social views. But regardless of where we stand on any issue, for at least a moment each hour, we stand together, in silent prayer, to our God, to his Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ, and to our inspiring Advocate, the Holy Spirit.
Praise God in his Holy Temple!
Sunday, April 04, 2010
A L L E L U I A !
Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
The Lord is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!
Call me crazy – but I buy it – hook, line, and sinker! I know that it is popular to test our faith with enormous scrutiny, and while Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins and others are trying desperately to cast doubt on all religion (or at least religious institutions), I am happy to remain in the category of what they might call “voluntarily ignorant.”
But is it really ignorant to voluntarily embrace the Gospel of Jesus Christ? To affirm my belief that Jesus of Nazareth died, was buried, and then when his friends went to the tomb, they found it empty? That our Messiah rose from the dead, as he told his followers that he would? That Jesus Christ appeared to his disciples in the days and weeks that followed? Is it ignorant to affirm that in Christ death no longer has power over us? That God’s ultimate act of salvation is made complete? For me, it seems harder NOT to believe. As C. S. Lewis pointed out, we do not hunger and thirst for anything unless our appetite can be satisfied, and all of us hunger, thirst, yearn for communion with our Creator. In our faith, in our Gospel, that appetite is satisfied, as Christ graces us with eternal life – eternally in the presence of our creator.
Do I know exactly what our own resurrected life will be like? I have NO CLUE! I can read the speculation and theologizing of the greatest minds in history – and I can even read the skepticism from our atheist and agnostic fellow sojourners. But each time I do, I feel sad. Sad that there can be such disbelief, such pessimism that our Creator wanted so dearly to bring us home that God visited us, incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth.
Call me crazy, but I believe! I believe in the Resurrection! I believe in our Salvation! I believe that Christ has Liberated me from sin and death and invited me to share in eternal life!
I believe!
The Lord is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!
Call me crazy – but I buy it – hook, line, and sinker! I know that it is popular to test our faith with enormous scrutiny, and while Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins and others are trying desperately to cast doubt on all religion (or at least religious institutions), I am happy to remain in the category of what they might call “voluntarily ignorant.”
But is it really ignorant to voluntarily embrace the Gospel of Jesus Christ? To affirm my belief that Jesus of Nazareth died, was buried, and then when his friends went to the tomb, they found it empty? That our Messiah rose from the dead, as he told his followers that he would? That Jesus Christ appeared to his disciples in the days and weeks that followed? Is it ignorant to affirm that in Christ death no longer has power over us? That God’s ultimate act of salvation is made complete? For me, it seems harder NOT to believe. As C. S. Lewis pointed out, we do not hunger and thirst for anything unless our appetite can be satisfied, and all of us hunger, thirst, yearn for communion with our Creator. In our faith, in our Gospel, that appetite is satisfied, as Christ graces us with eternal life – eternally in the presence of our creator.
Do I know exactly what our own resurrected life will be like? I have NO CLUE! I can read the speculation and theologizing of the greatest minds in history – and I can even read the skepticism from our atheist and agnostic fellow sojourners. But each time I do, I feel sad. Sad that there can be such disbelief, such pessimism that our Creator wanted so dearly to bring us home that God visited us, incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth.
Call me crazy, but I believe! I believe in the Resurrection! I believe in our Salvation! I believe that Christ has Liberated me from sin and death and invited me to share in eternal life!
I believe!
Friday, March 19, 2010
The end of Lent
Our lectionary has taken us on a provocative journey since the Transfiguration just a few weeks ago. As Jesus came down from the mountain, he turned his eyes toward Jerusalem, knowing that his actions and his words on his journey to this seat of power would confound and anger the Pharisees and scribes, the very authority in the Hebrew faith tradition, as well as liberate the oppressed, the marginalized, the disconnected who had long been relegated to sit outside the holy places. Each step he took, each parable he shared, broke down barriers of centuries of teachings in the faith, and opened up the promise of salvation and reconciliation to everyone.
Our own Lenten journey has also brought us on a path, with Jerusalem, Golgotha, the Tomb, and the Garden at its end. We have heard Jesus' teachings, we have ourselves been made free from oppression and prejudice, and we are reminded that we are welcome into the loving arms of our God. Recognition of our own missing the mark, our sinfulness, is a key component of our repentance. Our forgiveness of self precedes our forgiveness of others, but both are reminders of God's own graceful forgiveness that is offered to us.
By the time Jesus reaches Jerusalem, upon his triumphant entry into the city, he has said enough, he has healed enough, he has taught enough. Words, while still profound, will speak, but not as loudly as his actions during the week of Passion leading to the cross. We will lament with him at Tenebrae; we will humble ourselves on Maundy Thursday; we will witness to his suffering on Good Friday. We will even descend with him to the Dead on Holy Saturday.
And at the Vigil on the Evening before Easter, at sunset, when the light seems to disappear from the sky, we will light our Paschal fires, remembering that even in death there is life and Light. We will have walked this journey, again this year, to remind us of the power of Light and Life over the darkness of doubt and death, and we will celebrate our redemption.
I invite all to be a part of our rich and traditional liturgies, to listen to the scriptures and teachings, to pray together as a community of believers, and to boldly proclaim our faith - Christ has died, Christ is Risen, Christ will come again.
Our own Lenten journey has also brought us on a path, with Jerusalem, Golgotha, the Tomb, and the Garden at its end. We have heard Jesus' teachings, we have ourselves been made free from oppression and prejudice, and we are reminded that we are welcome into the loving arms of our God. Recognition of our own missing the mark, our sinfulness, is a key component of our repentance. Our forgiveness of self precedes our forgiveness of others, but both are reminders of God's own graceful forgiveness that is offered to us.
By the time Jesus reaches Jerusalem, upon his triumphant entry into the city, he has said enough, he has healed enough, he has taught enough. Words, while still profound, will speak, but not as loudly as his actions during the week of Passion leading to the cross. We will lament with him at Tenebrae; we will humble ourselves on Maundy Thursday; we will witness to his suffering on Good Friday. We will even descend with him to the Dead on Holy Saturday.
And at the Vigil on the Evening before Easter, at sunset, when the light seems to disappear from the sky, we will light our Paschal fires, remembering that even in death there is life and Light. We will have walked this journey, again this year, to remind us of the power of Light and Life over the darkness of doubt and death, and we will celebrate our redemption.
I invite all to be a part of our rich and traditional liturgies, to listen to the scriptures and teachings, to pray together as a community of believers, and to boldly proclaim our faith - Christ has died, Christ is Risen, Christ will come again.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Three Churches - Part One: St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle
Tours to Europe are an enigma, and my recent trip to London & Paris with a group of students from Gannon University was no exception. The Dickensian quote is so appropriate to describe our excursion: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...." The worst - well, for someone that makes it to the UK at least once each calendar year, and who has found personal favorite, out-of-the-way places, who enjoys theatre, concerts, quiet evening walks, the experience of travel with a dozen college students who are vaulting the Atlantic for the first time is a bit like teaching a large brood of puppies to pee outside. The best - looking at the faces of those young men and women as they gaze on Big Ben, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Tower of London, not through the photos on a page in a history book, but first-hand, with their own eyes, the view mediated only by the crisp late winter air. Joy!
Personally, I would like to take the time to reflect on three of my experiences in three very different churches: St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle; Canterbury Cathedral, Kent; and Notre Dame, Ile de la Cite, Paris. Each a spiritual heart and home as well as a place of pilgrimmage for the faithful, curious, or agnostic. Each had its own charism and attraction, and each had its own moments of revulsion or disappointment.
First, St. George's Chapel. When we arrived at Windsor Castle on Sunday Morning, February 28, a sign at the gate noted that the chapel would be closed. I had a bit of a panic - as a priest and associate member of the Order of Julian of Norwich, it is my customary practice to participate in a service of Holy Eucharist. While I know that I can always gather a few friends and celebrate myself, I find it much more engaging to participate in services wherever I find myself, in the local community. I had hoped to attend a service somewhere in Windsor, and panicked for a moment thinking I'd have to go into the town, find a service, and still make it back to the tour bus for our return trip into London. On a whim, I decided to play the clergy card, finding the most sympathetic of guides in the castle (noting that by-in-large, the guides and staff at Windsor are among the most accomodating, helpful, and friendly you will find in the UK!), saying, "I really need to attend a Holy Eucharist - I'm a priest - is there any way that I would be able to attend at the chapel?" A gracious and hospitable smile looked back at me, and told me to wait by the front door of the chapel, and at 10:45 am, the door would be open to any and all who want to participate in the service.
The chapel itself is lovely - and like most chapels, is under some renovation (all of the churches seem to be under constant renovation and repair, which is to be expected of buildings centuries old). I entered and made my way to the quire, which was lovely. Visiting this particular day was an inspiring and talented choir from Chelsea, and their Byrd Five-Part Mass was a perfect setting. The service was the traditional rite from the Book of Common Prayer, the celebrant faced the altar for the Eucharist, and we, the congregation as it were, sat in the choir stalls.
Congregation - two dozen, if that. A small number for such an important center of faith. As I made my way back to my seat after receiving communion, I looked down to see a large slab, into which was the carved memorial that beneath lie the remains of Henry VIII, Queen Jane Seymour, and an infant child of Queen Anne. A reminder of the continuity of faith, and a comfort that regardless of the number in worship that Sunday, we faithful stand in a stream, with the whole communion of saints. My notion of average Sunday attendance should always be tempered by the reality that regardless of the number of women, men, and children who are in the pews, in reality, all of creation is joining in our service of praise and thanksgiving, which we offer week after week, in celebration for the gift of life and the offer of salvation.
Personally, I would like to take the time to reflect on three of my experiences in three very different churches: St. George's Chapel, Windsor Castle; Canterbury Cathedral, Kent; and Notre Dame, Ile de la Cite, Paris. Each a spiritual heart and home as well as a place of pilgrimmage for the faithful, curious, or agnostic. Each had its own charism and attraction, and each had its own moments of revulsion or disappointment.
First, St. George's Chapel. When we arrived at Windsor Castle on Sunday Morning, February 28, a sign at the gate noted that the chapel would be closed. I had a bit of a panic - as a priest and associate member of the Order of Julian of Norwich, it is my customary practice to participate in a service of Holy Eucharist. While I know that I can always gather a few friends and celebrate myself, I find it much more engaging to participate in services wherever I find myself, in the local community. I had hoped to attend a service somewhere in Windsor, and panicked for a moment thinking I'd have to go into the town, find a service, and still make it back to the tour bus for our return trip into London. On a whim, I decided to play the clergy card, finding the most sympathetic of guides in the castle (noting that by-in-large, the guides and staff at Windsor are among the most accomodating, helpful, and friendly you will find in the UK!), saying, "I really need to attend a Holy Eucharist - I'm a priest - is there any way that I would be able to attend at the chapel?" A gracious and hospitable smile looked back at me, and told me to wait by the front door of the chapel, and at 10:45 am, the door would be open to any and all who want to participate in the service.
The chapel itself is lovely - and like most chapels, is under some renovation (all of the churches seem to be under constant renovation and repair, which is to be expected of buildings centuries old). I entered and made my way to the quire, which was lovely. Visiting this particular day was an inspiring and talented choir from Chelsea, and their Byrd Five-Part Mass was a perfect setting. The service was the traditional rite from the Book of Common Prayer, the celebrant faced the altar for the Eucharist, and we, the congregation as it were, sat in the choir stalls.
Congregation - two dozen, if that. A small number for such an important center of faith. As I made my way back to my seat after receiving communion, I looked down to see a large slab, into which was the carved memorial that beneath lie the remains of Henry VIII, Queen Jane Seymour, and an infant child of Queen Anne. A reminder of the continuity of faith, and a comfort that regardless of the number in worship that Sunday, we faithful stand in a stream, with the whole communion of saints. My notion of average Sunday attendance should always be tempered by the reality that regardless of the number of women, men, and children who are in the pews, in reality, all of creation is joining in our service of praise and thanksgiving, which we offer week after week, in celebration for the gift of life and the offer of salvation.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
"Dad, this is entirely inappropriate for someone my age..."
When I took my son to see a film, recently, I did my parental homework and looked into the story content of the film as well as its ratings. We enjoy going to movies together, and there are a lot of "guy films" out there - things with bodily functions and stupid humor. My son, however much me might enjoy the sounds and smells of pre-adolescence, is a legalist. I would bet money that someday he'll be on the MPAA ratings board. Anyhow, while watching a "guy film" a few years back, he looked at me halfway through the movie, and said "You know, this is entirely inappropriate for someone my age - they've said 'balls' twelve times..."
Needless to say, as a father and a clergyman, I hung my head in shame. Here was my own child, whom I have been entrusted to raise to adulthood, telling me I wasn't doing so hot a job. Granted, he is his father's son, and I can be a bit of a legalist myself. But still, I began to wonder whether or not I was missing something important. I had exposed him to language, narrative, viewpoints, sometimes different from my own, sometimes inappropriate, sometimes challenging, rather than protecting him from the wiles of the evil Hollywood empire.
But isn't that what God does to us? We are no longer cocooned in the Garden of Eden, where we are ignorant to the differences between good and evil. Rather, we are in the midst of a creation liberated from perfection, exposed to our own vulnerability to accept or reject the good, the bad, and the ugly. We are given the mature ability to make choices, and in making those choices, we exercise the gift of free will.
And just as I am sitting in the darkened theatre alongside my child, helping him to understand the images projected on the screen, so our God as Creator, as Incarnate Christ, as Guiding Holy Spirit is beside us, helping us to interpret the images surrounding us. We are not kept in a protected keep, far from disturbing stories and challenging narratives. We live in the midst of them, and we are given guidance on how to negotiate our lives through scripture, tradition, and reason - equally.
My son and I will continue to go - together - to our "guy films," and I am sure that we'll continue to have lively discussions about them. My God and I will continue to go - together - through the challenges of this life, and I am certain that our discussions will be equally lively!
Needless to say, as a father and a clergyman, I hung my head in shame. Here was my own child, whom I have been entrusted to raise to adulthood, telling me I wasn't doing so hot a job. Granted, he is his father's son, and I can be a bit of a legalist myself. But still, I began to wonder whether or not I was missing something important. I had exposed him to language, narrative, viewpoints, sometimes different from my own, sometimes inappropriate, sometimes challenging, rather than protecting him from the wiles of the evil Hollywood empire.
But isn't that what God does to us? We are no longer cocooned in the Garden of Eden, where we are ignorant to the differences between good and evil. Rather, we are in the midst of a creation liberated from perfection, exposed to our own vulnerability to accept or reject the good, the bad, and the ugly. We are given the mature ability to make choices, and in making those choices, we exercise the gift of free will.
And just as I am sitting in the darkened theatre alongside my child, helping him to understand the images projected on the screen, so our God as Creator, as Incarnate Christ, as Guiding Holy Spirit is beside us, helping us to interpret the images surrounding us. We are not kept in a protected keep, far from disturbing stories and challenging narratives. We live in the midst of them, and we are given guidance on how to negotiate our lives through scripture, tradition, and reason - equally.
My son and I will continue to go - together - to our "guy films," and I am sure that we'll continue to have lively discussions about them. My God and I will continue to go - together - through the challenges of this life, and I am certain that our discussions will be equally lively!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
St. Mary’s Episcopal Church
2010 Annual Report
Vicar’s Report
Introduction
It has been a pleasure to assume to responsibilities as the vicar of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Lawrence Park, Erie. Almi, Seamus, and I, along with other members of my family have been welcomed by the congregation, and we are thrilled to be a part of the fabric of the continuing life of St. Mary’s. I have faith that our time with this mission will be a positive one for all of us and pray that we will all continue to grow in our love of God and our love for one another and our neighbors. The church has a long history of involvement and spiritual leadership in the east Erie district, and the members of the parish continue to have a positive impact on one another as well as our friends in Lawrence Park and Wesleyville. There are two ways of looking at the past year: quantitatively (in numbers and statistics), and qualitatively (in narrative and description).
Qualitative Data
Each year, each parish and mission is asked to report data to the national church. The parochial report of 2008 showed 60 reported members of St. Mary’s with an average Sunday attendance (also known as the ASA) of 37. While the ASA remained steady in 2009, the reported member has grown to 67, an increase of 9%. 19% of the current membership is under the age of 18. The year showed a total gain of 8 new members (and not all of them are Clerkins!). We can all be happy that since the installation, ASA has grown to 42, an increase of 14% in attendance. The Christmas Eve service had 74 in attendance, the highest attendance in more than 5 years, an increase of 17% over 2008, and 32% over 2007.
Specifically, the church had 50 Sunday/Saturday evening Eucharist services, 4 Weekday Eucharist services, 15 Private Eucharist services/communions, and 6 Sunday Daily Offices. There were no reported marriages, burials, baptisms, confirmations, receptions, or reaffirmations. The total attendance for all services was 2061, and the total communions administered were 1833. There were 7 enrolled in Church School/Christian education (increase of 17% over the previous year). Each week approximately 8 participate in adult education.
These are all very positive numbers. We should be happy to share this information with others, to be proud of the good work of the entire parish, and to allow the growth to empower us to reach out to others.
Qualitative Report
At the beginning of this church year, members of the bishop’s committee, Deacon Zach, and I completed a mutual ministry review, an assessment tool required by the diocese. We examined our responses to the church, the members, our mission, and our goals for the future. Marge McLean and Joyce Gieza compiled the information. While many individual activities and accomplishments were noted (the maintenance of the mission, the installation, the well project, the community meals, worship, and others), all of the accolades fall under three basic areas: positive maintenance, positive leadership, and positive atmosphere. The congregation continued to worship together without a permanent vicar, continued to maintain programming that reached out to community members, and sustained projects and community programs that have had a positive impact on the neighborhood. Maintaining the parish commitments helped to give the church a sense of purpose and a feeling of accomplishment. The bishop’s committee, under the leadership of senior warden Joyce Gieza, junior warden Donna Gilson, treasurers Heidi Anderson and Joyce, and worship/spiritual direction from Deacon Zachary Irwin, helped to navigate through the year liturgical year and maintain the church’s financial and programmatic health. Both of these helped to boost the mission’s healthy atmosphere, an atmosphere that was and is welcoming not just to me and my family but to other visitors that have joined us over the last few months.
Future Plans and Goals
While there is much to be proud of, there are also definite challenges in the coming year. We are operating with a budget deficit, not unusual in churches were plate exceeds pledge, but still a bit sobering. We have commitments that must be met beyond our basic operating budget. Our community meal program, while bringing in grants to support it, this year requires a monetary commitment from the church. We are also engaged in outreach that has for some time come from the alms fund but needs to come from other resources. The physical plant of the church is sound, but there are always surprises, especially in buildings that are in their fifth decade of life.
We are also challenged to think about new and innovative programming to help ourselves and our neighbors. If the rationale for ministry is either “that’s the way we used to do it,” or “that’s the way it’s always been done,” then it’s time to at least assess that ministry or even to clear it away to make room for what God might be asking us to do, not just in the present, but looking ahead into the near future. We are to be initiating the Kingdom of God, not just staring at the skies waiting for signs that it’s about to happen. This requires that we take a close look at the needs of our neighbors, that we commit resources, time and energy to address those needs.
And we need to evangelize. Many ask, “How can we grow the church?” Aside from filling a nursery, which for many of us is an impossibility, there are two possible answers: 1. if you grow as church, you will grow the church, and 2. if you live a life that has been transformed by God’s Incarnation and believe in His saving grace, you cannot help but attract others. Our world is filled with sadness, loneliness, disconnect, hatred, prejudice, and distrust; but we are a faithful people who can boast of God’s love and are examples of how a life can be transformed through faith in our Savior Jesus Christ. We must never hide the gospel from ourselves or from others. And we are challenged to reach out to those who are un-churched, de-churched or re-churched, and invite them to be a part of this wonderful mission through which God has blessed us.
This is our mission, this is our call, and these will be our goals for the coming year.
Peace in Jesus Christ,
Fr. Shawn Clerkin
Proud Vicar of St. Mary’s, Lawrence Park, Erie
2010 Annual Report
Vicar’s Report
Introduction
It has been a pleasure to assume to responsibilities as the vicar of St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Lawrence Park, Erie. Almi, Seamus, and I, along with other members of my family have been welcomed by the congregation, and we are thrilled to be a part of the fabric of the continuing life of St. Mary’s. I have faith that our time with this mission will be a positive one for all of us and pray that we will all continue to grow in our love of God and our love for one another and our neighbors. The church has a long history of involvement and spiritual leadership in the east Erie district, and the members of the parish continue to have a positive impact on one another as well as our friends in Lawrence Park and Wesleyville. There are two ways of looking at the past year: quantitatively (in numbers and statistics), and qualitatively (in narrative and description).
Qualitative Data
Each year, each parish and mission is asked to report data to the national church. The parochial report of 2008 showed 60 reported members of St. Mary’s with an average Sunday attendance (also known as the ASA) of 37. While the ASA remained steady in 2009, the reported member has grown to 67, an increase of 9%. 19% of the current membership is under the age of 18. The year showed a total gain of 8 new members (and not all of them are Clerkins!). We can all be happy that since the installation, ASA has grown to 42, an increase of 14% in attendance. The Christmas Eve service had 74 in attendance, the highest attendance in more than 5 years, an increase of 17% over 2008, and 32% over 2007.
Specifically, the church had 50 Sunday/Saturday evening Eucharist services, 4 Weekday Eucharist services, 15 Private Eucharist services/communions, and 6 Sunday Daily Offices. There were no reported marriages, burials, baptisms, confirmations, receptions, or reaffirmations. The total attendance for all services was 2061, and the total communions administered were 1833. There were 7 enrolled in Church School/Christian education (increase of 17% over the previous year). Each week approximately 8 participate in adult education.
These are all very positive numbers. We should be happy to share this information with others, to be proud of the good work of the entire parish, and to allow the growth to empower us to reach out to others.
Qualitative Report
At the beginning of this church year, members of the bishop’s committee, Deacon Zach, and I completed a mutual ministry review, an assessment tool required by the diocese. We examined our responses to the church, the members, our mission, and our goals for the future. Marge McLean and Joyce Gieza compiled the information. While many individual activities and accomplishments were noted (the maintenance of the mission, the installation, the well project, the community meals, worship, and others), all of the accolades fall under three basic areas: positive maintenance, positive leadership, and positive atmosphere. The congregation continued to worship together without a permanent vicar, continued to maintain programming that reached out to community members, and sustained projects and community programs that have had a positive impact on the neighborhood. Maintaining the parish commitments helped to give the church a sense of purpose and a feeling of accomplishment. The bishop’s committee, under the leadership of senior warden Joyce Gieza, junior warden Donna Gilson, treasurers Heidi Anderson and Joyce, and worship/spiritual direction from Deacon Zachary Irwin, helped to navigate through the year liturgical year and maintain the church’s financial and programmatic health. Both of these helped to boost the mission’s healthy atmosphere, an atmosphere that was and is welcoming not just to me and my family but to other visitors that have joined us over the last few months.
Future Plans and Goals
While there is much to be proud of, there are also definite challenges in the coming year. We are operating with a budget deficit, not unusual in churches were plate exceeds pledge, but still a bit sobering. We have commitments that must be met beyond our basic operating budget. Our community meal program, while bringing in grants to support it, this year requires a monetary commitment from the church. We are also engaged in outreach that has for some time come from the alms fund but needs to come from other resources. The physical plant of the church is sound, but there are always surprises, especially in buildings that are in their fifth decade of life.
We are also challenged to think about new and innovative programming to help ourselves and our neighbors. If the rationale for ministry is either “that’s the way we used to do it,” or “that’s the way it’s always been done,” then it’s time to at least assess that ministry or even to clear it away to make room for what God might be asking us to do, not just in the present, but looking ahead into the near future. We are to be initiating the Kingdom of God, not just staring at the skies waiting for signs that it’s about to happen. This requires that we take a close look at the needs of our neighbors, that we commit resources, time and energy to address those needs.
And we need to evangelize. Many ask, “How can we grow the church?” Aside from filling a nursery, which for many of us is an impossibility, there are two possible answers: 1. if you grow as church, you will grow the church, and 2. if you live a life that has been transformed by God’s Incarnation and believe in His saving grace, you cannot help but attract others. Our world is filled with sadness, loneliness, disconnect, hatred, prejudice, and distrust; but we are a faithful people who can boast of God’s love and are examples of how a life can be transformed through faith in our Savior Jesus Christ. We must never hide the gospel from ourselves or from others. And we are challenged to reach out to those who are un-churched, de-churched or re-churched, and invite them to be a part of this wonderful mission through which God has blessed us.
This is our mission, this is our call, and these will be our goals for the coming year.
Peace in Jesus Christ,
Fr. Shawn Clerkin
Proud Vicar of St. Mary’s, Lawrence Park, Erie
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