Daily Advent Meditations |
Christmas 2016
From The Rite Place by Shawn M Schreiner and Dennis E. Northway, page 68.
We all love the holidays, especially Christmas! Holiday literally comes from “holy day” in earlier English use. What does it specifically mean to be holy? From the prophet Isaiah, we hear that special things in the Temple were “Kadosh” or “set apart” for specific use in the surrounds and rituals of the Temple. To be holy is literally to be set apart for special purposes. When we keep a holiday, we set it aside and make it holy. When Jesus was born to Mary and Joseph, a long time ago, the world was radically changed. During the season of Christmas we celebrate Jesus as Emmanuel, God with us. Jesus taught us as he lived and ministered, to be love to people who have no love, to help the poor and the disaffected. The birth of Jesus reminds us that, as Christ came to earth to help and save us, we should also, after gathering to thank God for all God’s gifts, go out into the world to be Christ to a needy and broken world. To do that is to be set apart, or to be given a holy purpose. We celebrate the birth of Jesus and bask in the glow of a truly holy day!
We all love the holidays, especially Christmas! Holiday literally comes from “holy day” in earlier English use. What does it specifically mean to be holy? From the prophet Isaiah, we hear that special things in the Temple were “Kadosh” or “set apart” for specific use in the surrounds and rituals of the Temple. To be holy is literally to be set apart for special purposes. When we keep a holiday, we set it aside and make it holy. When Jesus was born to Mary and Joseph, a long time ago, the world was radically changed. During the season of Christmas we celebrate Jesus as Emmanuel, God with us. Jesus taught us as he lived and ministered, to be love to people who have no love, to help the poor and the disaffected. The birth of Jesus reminds us that, as Christ came to earth to help and save us, we should also, after gathering to thank God for all God’s gifts, go out into the world to be Christ to a needy and broken world. To do that is to be set apart, or to be given a holy purpose. We celebrate the birth of Jesus and bask in the glow of a truly holy day!
December 24, 2016
Suzannah Rohman
I am the mother of 17 month old twins, a boy and a girl. They are beautiful, funny, and sometimes exasperating. They pull my hair, each other’s hair and anyone’s hair they can grab. They cry. They fight over toys. If one has a toy, the other immediately wants it. They hurt each other. They hurt me. Sometimes I feel like I am seeing the world in microcosm when they are in one of these exasperating moments. It is amazing to me that this competition and fighting over resources begins at such a young age. It can make me despair for all of us from time to time, and then the miraculous occurs.
My son will see his sister crying and he will bring her a pacifier or her favorite stuffed animal. My daughter will spontaneously give me a hug and a kiss. All three of us will laugh and laugh and laugh together over absolutely nothing at all. In those moments I realize that, while we all me have a shadow side, a side which drives us to grab and to take and to compete, we each are also full of light and love. And as a Christian, I know that love always wins.
My children are a mix of darkness and light like every human being. They hurt each other. They hurt me. I hurt them. But in the end the love that is in each of us triumphs over the darkness and the hurt and this is true of the world as well. On this Christmas Eve as we prepare to once again welcome Jesus, the very essence of love, into the world, let us remember the light that is in each and every one of us as well.
I am the mother of 17 month old twins, a boy and a girl. They are beautiful, funny, and sometimes exasperating. They pull my hair, each other’s hair and anyone’s hair they can grab. They cry. They fight over toys. If one has a toy, the other immediately wants it. They hurt each other. They hurt me. Sometimes I feel like I am seeing the world in microcosm when they are in one of these exasperating moments. It is amazing to me that this competition and fighting over resources begins at such a young age. It can make me despair for all of us from time to time, and then the miraculous occurs.
My son will see his sister crying and he will bring her a pacifier or her favorite stuffed animal. My daughter will spontaneously give me a hug and a kiss. All three of us will laugh and laugh and laugh together over absolutely nothing at all. In those moments I realize that, while we all me have a shadow side, a side which drives us to grab and to take and to compete, we each are also full of light and love. And as a Christian, I know that love always wins.
My children are a mix of darkness and light like every human being. They hurt each other. They hurt me. I hurt them. But in the end the love that is in each of us triumphs over the darkness and the hurt and this is true of the world as well. On this Christmas Eve as we prepare to once again welcome Jesus, the very essence of love, into the world, let us remember the light that is in each and every one of us as well.
December 23, 2016
Jodi Kirk
When originally asked to write an Advent meditation about “A time when you caught a glimpse of the world as God intends it to be”, I didn’t think that it would be a difficult topic to write about. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was struggling to find something to share. Surely I have witnessed many times where this is the case…but I had been having a hard time coming up with even one of them recently. Perhaps I’ve been bogged down with my own chaotic schedule juggling work, school, sports, activities, and volunteering. Or maybe it’s the turmoil surrounding the impending election that is clouding my thoughts. It’s easy to get consumed by these things and miss the point…the world as God intends it to be.
This past Sunday I was able to finally see what I had been searching for, that glimmer of this world God intends. This past Sunday my nephew and godson Joseph was baptized. He was all smiles and wonderment, delighted by the holy water. He didn’t have a care in the world. He is loved and gives love and is surrounded by the light of Christ. He was welcomed into our church and “marked as Christ’s own forever”. I see this world God intends at every baptism, it is truly a blessing to witness. At each baptism we all have a chance to renew our own baptismal vows. This new beginning gives us a reminder to be the light of Christ in the world and live as God intends us to. This past Sunday gave me a renewed perspective on the world around me, and it gives me hope for the future.
When originally asked to write an Advent meditation about “A time when you caught a glimpse of the world as God intends it to be”, I didn’t think that it would be a difficult topic to write about. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was struggling to find something to share. Surely I have witnessed many times where this is the case…but I had been having a hard time coming up with even one of them recently. Perhaps I’ve been bogged down with my own chaotic schedule juggling work, school, sports, activities, and volunteering. Or maybe it’s the turmoil surrounding the impending election that is clouding my thoughts. It’s easy to get consumed by these things and miss the point…the world as God intends it to be.
This past Sunday I was able to finally see what I had been searching for, that glimmer of this world God intends. This past Sunday my nephew and godson Joseph was baptized. He was all smiles and wonderment, delighted by the holy water. He didn’t have a care in the world. He is loved and gives love and is surrounded by the light of Christ. He was welcomed into our church and “marked as Christ’s own forever”. I see this world God intends at every baptism, it is truly a blessing to witness. At each baptism we all have a chance to renew our own baptismal vows. This new beginning gives us a reminder to be the light of Christ in the world and live as God intends us to. This past Sunday gave me a renewed perspective on the world around me, and it gives me hope for the future.
December 22, 2016
Mary Cahalane
Anticipation
Waiting is not always something I find easy to do. I drive fast. I walk fast. I talk fast. Though I’m online throughout the day, I rarely watch video. Takes too long. Give it to me in text, where I can read it quickly.
But anticipation is different than waiting, I think. Waiting is defined as a pause, interval, or delay. Anticipation is expectation or hope. Waiting is a waste of my time. Anticipation is a process. A state of mind. Something to experience, not endure.
And if I think of an example of anticipation, I think of my Jamie. Many of you know or can deduce from the large gap between my two kids that we waited a long time for James to make his appearance. I anticipated that pregnancy for nine years. Sometimes with tears. Sometimes with prayers. Always with hope. And even when we were expecting him and he was a week late, I was in no hurry for him to be born. The anticipation was lovely. It was my last pregnancy, and I was enjoying it.
So as impatient as I can be, I like Advent. There’s something so calming about that wait. And perhaps that’s because I know what I’m waiting for. And I’m certain that whatever form it takes, it will be joyful. Christmas will come – whether I’m prepared or not. I’ll experience again the joy of a child born, hope sparking, promise shining and new.
If I allow it, Advent is a needed pause. Like those last weeks of my pregnancy, it’s a chance to live in the moment. It’s the quiet before sleepless nights. It’s time to think. Or better, time to feel. When you’re waiting for something joyous, there’s peace in the wait.
I lost my mom this year. There have been changes in my family. My youngest is heading off to college soon. Life goes by fast – too fast. During Advent, we have a chance to remember that. During Advent, we can linger over our expectations and our dreams.
During Advent, I can wait.
Anticipation
Waiting is not always something I find easy to do. I drive fast. I walk fast. I talk fast. Though I’m online throughout the day, I rarely watch video. Takes too long. Give it to me in text, where I can read it quickly.
But anticipation is different than waiting, I think. Waiting is defined as a pause, interval, or delay. Anticipation is expectation or hope. Waiting is a waste of my time. Anticipation is a process. A state of mind. Something to experience, not endure.
And if I think of an example of anticipation, I think of my Jamie. Many of you know or can deduce from the large gap between my two kids that we waited a long time for James to make his appearance. I anticipated that pregnancy for nine years. Sometimes with tears. Sometimes with prayers. Always with hope. And even when we were expecting him and he was a week late, I was in no hurry for him to be born. The anticipation was lovely. It was my last pregnancy, and I was enjoying it.
So as impatient as I can be, I like Advent. There’s something so calming about that wait. And perhaps that’s because I know what I’m waiting for. And I’m certain that whatever form it takes, it will be joyful. Christmas will come – whether I’m prepared or not. I’ll experience again the joy of a child born, hope sparking, promise shining and new.
If I allow it, Advent is a needed pause. Like those last weeks of my pregnancy, it’s a chance to live in the moment. It’s the quiet before sleepless nights. It’s time to think. Or better, time to feel. When you’re waiting for something joyous, there’s peace in the wait.
I lost my mom this year. There have been changes in my family. My youngest is heading off to college soon. Life goes by fast – too fast. During Advent, we have a chance to remember that. During Advent, we can linger over our expectations and our dreams.
During Advent, I can wait.
December 21, 2016
Trish Leonard
In the last few years, I have experienced many glimpses of the humanity that God intends and dreams of for this world we call home. Yet it wasn’t until I began to reflect on the coming of Christ and the hope and faith that was restored by His birth that I understood the impact those brief shining moments have had on my life.
I think I have probably shared this before that I am a person whose awareness was limited to those moments when I was bonked over the head with spiritual reality. I have learned through the grace of God from many special people who have been put in my path to pay attention and be present to the work of the Spirit all around us.
There is a particular moment that I witnessed while serving at St. Andrew’s Day of Caring less than a year ago and would like to share as one of those shining moments. There were several of us from St. Paul’s taking part that day and it wasn’t my first time being a part of that ministry. It was near the end of that morning, almost everyone had been served breakfast and had come forward as their ticket number was called to receive a turkey, chicken or ham along with a bag filled with groceries. We were beginning to clean up tables when a single, elderly woman came in. We invited her to come and sit and have breakfast though we weren’t certain of the availability of meat and groceries for her to take home. As she began to tell her story, it became obvious that she was distraught and was having difficulty continuing. You see, her husband had just died and she was so overcome with emotion that she had no idea how she could go on and had nowhere to turn. I witnessed 2 people from St. Paul’s, one on her right, taking her hand and the other on her left, touching her left shoulder, one praying and the other offering a hand to hold and words of comfort that truly came from the heart of Christ.
A moment of humbling faith, hope, courage and trust that could only be the dream of how God intends our lives to be. Yet, the story does not end there. I learned afterward those 2 people made sure that one person, newly widowed, alone, and so afraid went home with food, helped her to make arrangements and then attended her husband’s funeral. Hands and hearts open to the movement of the Spirit of Christ and the ability to give without fear, bringing hope to a hopeless soul. May the magnitude of the light of Christ’s love evident in that moment be present in your hopes and dreams this Advent season.
In the last few years, I have experienced many glimpses of the humanity that God intends and dreams of for this world we call home. Yet it wasn’t until I began to reflect on the coming of Christ and the hope and faith that was restored by His birth that I understood the impact those brief shining moments have had on my life.
I think I have probably shared this before that I am a person whose awareness was limited to those moments when I was bonked over the head with spiritual reality. I have learned through the grace of God from many special people who have been put in my path to pay attention and be present to the work of the Spirit all around us.
There is a particular moment that I witnessed while serving at St. Andrew’s Day of Caring less than a year ago and would like to share as one of those shining moments. There were several of us from St. Paul’s taking part that day and it wasn’t my first time being a part of that ministry. It was near the end of that morning, almost everyone had been served breakfast and had come forward as their ticket number was called to receive a turkey, chicken or ham along with a bag filled with groceries. We were beginning to clean up tables when a single, elderly woman came in. We invited her to come and sit and have breakfast though we weren’t certain of the availability of meat and groceries for her to take home. As she began to tell her story, it became obvious that she was distraught and was having difficulty continuing. You see, her husband had just died and she was so overcome with emotion that she had no idea how she could go on and had nowhere to turn. I witnessed 2 people from St. Paul’s, one on her right, taking her hand and the other on her left, touching her left shoulder, one praying and the other offering a hand to hold and words of comfort that truly came from the heart of Christ.
A moment of humbling faith, hope, courage and trust that could only be the dream of how God intends our lives to be. Yet, the story does not end there. I learned afterward those 2 people made sure that one person, newly widowed, alone, and so afraid went home with food, helped her to make arrangements and then attended her husband’s funeral. Hands and hearts open to the movement of the Spirit of Christ and the ability to give without fear, bringing hope to a hopeless soul. May the magnitude of the light of Christ’s love evident in that moment be present in your hopes and dreams this Advent season.
December 20, 2016
Matt Handi
There was a man who lived in a large town. Well, at least it was a large town around where he grew up. To you and me, it would be a village, a small farming town with a general store and a church and some other shops on the main road that cut through town. But to this man, it was a large town. When you live in a town of 3000 surrounded by villages of 30 or 40 inhabitants, you begin to see this man’s perspective.
The man lived in this town, a large town to him and a small town to you or me, in a small country on the very western edge of Africa. It was a poor country with a corrupt government that was constantly interrupted by coups. In this town, within this country, the man made his living.
His body was pocked and marked by disease and illness. He could shrug off malaria after a couple days and he would go on with his life. His middle calves seemed fused to his middle thighs due to a bone deficiency he experienced as a child. He limped and, when out, would walk by shifting his hips and swinging his feet, stride by stride, until he reached his destination.
He should have been mad at the world or at least it would have been understandable if he was indeed angry at the cards dealt him. But he wasn’t mad nor was he especially glad, he just lived. He lived the life he knew. And he wore a red blazer made of crushed velvet every day.
The man lived on a courtyard. His front door opened to a public space, a rectangle surrounded on all four sides by rows of houses filled with teachers and headmasters, students and maintenance men. All of the houses were painted white and had new doors, but not the man’s. His house was shuttered and the windows were blacked out. The outside was white, but not as bright.
Normally, in the heat of the day when they sat down for a meal, the people in the courtyard houses would gather and sit together under the shade and talk about their days, about their plots of land where they would grow rice or peanuts or other things. But the man would never sit with the others. In fact, you never saw the man, at least not during the day.
It made you wonder. Did nobody like this man? Were they disgusted by the way he walked? Why was his house shutoff from everyone else? Was he an outcast?
Well, you hardly ever saw the man except in the very early dark of evening as he went off to work. And if you were awake, you’d see him again in the very early light of morning when he returned. He worked in the fields at night, protecting crops from animals and thieves. His work allowed the others on the courtyard to sleep at night. And they slept peacefully because of the man who stayed awake to protect them.
This man was not an outcast. He was fully part of this little community in the courtyard and in the town as a whole. His unbending legs did not identify him as being different from the rest. He was not mad at the world. He served his role and did so proudly. Matter of fact, if you got to know him you would see immediately that he was friendly and that he was quick to laugh, (and that his house was so dark only so he could sleep during the day).
I think often of that man and the community of which he was a part. We sometimes see glimpses of the greatness that God gives us; within the vastness of everything God created we sometimes see a spark that reminds us of how things should be. Perhaps too, the world God wishes us to build exists in the mundane daily life of a courtyard where there are no outcasts. Where even though life has knocked us down a bit, we have a purpose; just like the man did who left his home all night to watch over the crops so his neighbors could feel safe.
There was a man who lived in a large town. Well, at least it was a large town around where he grew up. To you and me, it would be a village, a small farming town with a general store and a church and some other shops on the main road that cut through town. But to this man, it was a large town. When you live in a town of 3000 surrounded by villages of 30 or 40 inhabitants, you begin to see this man’s perspective.
The man lived in this town, a large town to him and a small town to you or me, in a small country on the very western edge of Africa. It was a poor country with a corrupt government that was constantly interrupted by coups. In this town, within this country, the man made his living.
His body was pocked and marked by disease and illness. He could shrug off malaria after a couple days and he would go on with his life. His middle calves seemed fused to his middle thighs due to a bone deficiency he experienced as a child. He limped and, when out, would walk by shifting his hips and swinging his feet, stride by stride, until he reached his destination.
He should have been mad at the world or at least it would have been understandable if he was indeed angry at the cards dealt him. But he wasn’t mad nor was he especially glad, he just lived. He lived the life he knew. And he wore a red blazer made of crushed velvet every day.
The man lived on a courtyard. His front door opened to a public space, a rectangle surrounded on all four sides by rows of houses filled with teachers and headmasters, students and maintenance men. All of the houses were painted white and had new doors, but not the man’s. His house was shuttered and the windows were blacked out. The outside was white, but not as bright.
Normally, in the heat of the day when they sat down for a meal, the people in the courtyard houses would gather and sit together under the shade and talk about their days, about their plots of land where they would grow rice or peanuts or other things. But the man would never sit with the others. In fact, you never saw the man, at least not during the day.
It made you wonder. Did nobody like this man? Were they disgusted by the way he walked? Why was his house shutoff from everyone else? Was he an outcast?
Well, you hardly ever saw the man except in the very early dark of evening as he went off to work. And if you were awake, you’d see him again in the very early light of morning when he returned. He worked in the fields at night, protecting crops from animals and thieves. His work allowed the others on the courtyard to sleep at night. And they slept peacefully because of the man who stayed awake to protect them.
This man was not an outcast. He was fully part of this little community in the courtyard and in the town as a whole. His unbending legs did not identify him as being different from the rest. He was not mad at the world. He served his role and did so proudly. Matter of fact, if you got to know him you would see immediately that he was friendly and that he was quick to laugh, (and that his house was so dark only so he could sleep during the day).
I think often of that man and the community of which he was a part. We sometimes see glimpses of the greatness that God gives us; within the vastness of everything God created we sometimes see a spark that reminds us of how things should be. Perhaps too, the world God wishes us to build exists in the mundane daily life of a courtyard where there are no outcasts. Where even though life has knocked us down a bit, we have a purpose; just like the man did who left his home all night to watch over the crops so his neighbors could feel safe.
December 19, 2016
Taylor Sisson
The Kingdom of God is being kind. I go to school in Bristol and there is a group at school called Kids in the Middle (KIM). KIM is a group of kids 6-8th grade who do a lot of good things within the school and the community. Right now at school, KIM is hosting their 2nd food drive. There is a challenge between each team of the school and whoever wins gets a prize. But really truly, the prize is giving food to others who really need it. Other activities include going to the library and doing crafts and reading to the younger kids. There is also a Bristol Girls and Boys basketball program for special needs kids to come and learn basketball. There is a KIM meeting every 2 to 3 weeks where we discuss upcoming activities and programs that we can be apart of. The KIM program is at Chippens Hill Middle School and West Bristol School. I think we represent what God's Kingdom should be like helping others.
The Kingdom of God is being kind. I go to school in Bristol and there is a group at school called Kids in the Middle (KIM). KIM is a group of kids 6-8th grade who do a lot of good things within the school and the community. Right now at school, KIM is hosting their 2nd food drive. There is a challenge between each team of the school and whoever wins gets a prize. But really truly, the prize is giving food to others who really need it. Other activities include going to the library and doing crafts and reading to the younger kids. There is also a Bristol Girls and Boys basketball program for special needs kids to come and learn basketball. There is a KIM meeting every 2 to 3 weeks where we discuss upcoming activities and programs that we can be apart of. The KIM program is at Chippens Hill Middle School and West Bristol School. I think we represent what God's Kingdom should be like helping others.
December 18, 2016
Amber Page Gehr
I spent a lot of time thinking about (translation: stressing out over) a time when I witnessed the world as God might intend it. I was trying to think of some big moment, something with a “wow” factor that would make this worth your time to read, but nothing came to me. Amidst all the noise of the crazy, divisive and sad election cycle and the general chaos of life as we know it, I found myself struggling to recall a time where I witnessed the world as God intends it. Thankfully, when you ask, the Holy Spirit usually intervenes and in the early morning quiet while cuddling a sleepy toddler my answer arrived. It wasn’t a big moment, there is no drama or razzle dazzle, but instead, like most of the best things in life, it was simple.
A few background details needed are that we live in a small condo complex, 23 units of townhouses in one building shaped like a ‘J”. Our little community is very diverse, a nice representation of the world we live in, and although everyone doesn’t know everyone, everyone is familiar with everyone. As in any community full of people with different backgrounds, ideas, histories and personalities, not everyone gets along, but such is life. Oh yes, and I am the President of our little Association so when problems arise, I am the one who gets the call, text, email or knock on the door.
This story takes place a few winters ago when we had snowstorm after snowstorm. In our little community, following a snowstorm, our wonderful snow-clearing crew has four hours to come dig us out. When they arrive, they lay on the horn to let everyone know that the cavalry has arrived and to go move your car. Usually, over half the units are out within five minutes clearing their cars and moving them out of the lot. Often though we need to knock on some doors, usually loudly, because if someone is in their basement or up in a back bedroom, you can’t hear what is happening in the parking lot.
For some reason, even though this is how it has always been done, there are people that seemed surprised, taken aback or just don’t want to go outside when the crew comes. There have been times where people literally look outside, make eye contact, and then don’t come out, sometimes they are even ruder. On the flip side, there are times when neighbors have handed other neighbors their keys as they were tending to a child, or sick, but they realized the importance of getting the parking lot cleaned up for the safety of everyone.
This particular storm was the storm that was going to force us to hire someone to come and remove snow from our property, our snow banks were already towering six to eight feet in the air, we had lost a few parking spaces that we couldn’t afford to lose to massive piles. We needed to get everyone moved to clear what we could so we have the space to fit all the cars that live in the lot.
The horn sounded and we all started exiting our cozy homes, bundled up and carrying shovels and brooms. The Board members gathered for a quick huddle to see whose doors we would have to start knocking on and to divvy up the most unpleasant responders so nobody had to take any flak from more than one neighbor.
But that morning something was different, as we looked around the complex, we were joyously surprised to see that people were coming out from every unit. No knocking, no glaring, no rude comments. Not only that, people were working together, people were helping clear off other people’s cars and digging out tracks for their neighbors to get traction. Everyone was helping everyone.
I was used to seeing some of the guys rock a stuck vehicle but this was a sight to behold, everyone was working together for the good of the whole. For a few minutes people seemed to put all their differences and dislikes aside and just get to work.
If it had happened in December, it would have been a great scene in a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie, where the heroine would make some comments about the Christmas spirit bringing everyone together. But since it was late February, I would have to say that it was more likely the Holy Spirit at work. As God wants us to all be in right relationship with him, with our neighbors and with ourselves, that snowy morning was a brief peak into how calm, peaceful and pleasant life can be when people set their differences aside and just work together to help each other simply because it is the right thing to do.
I spent a lot of time thinking about (translation: stressing out over) a time when I witnessed the world as God might intend it. I was trying to think of some big moment, something with a “wow” factor that would make this worth your time to read, but nothing came to me. Amidst all the noise of the crazy, divisive and sad election cycle and the general chaos of life as we know it, I found myself struggling to recall a time where I witnessed the world as God intends it. Thankfully, when you ask, the Holy Spirit usually intervenes and in the early morning quiet while cuddling a sleepy toddler my answer arrived. It wasn’t a big moment, there is no drama or razzle dazzle, but instead, like most of the best things in life, it was simple.
A few background details needed are that we live in a small condo complex, 23 units of townhouses in one building shaped like a ‘J”. Our little community is very diverse, a nice representation of the world we live in, and although everyone doesn’t know everyone, everyone is familiar with everyone. As in any community full of people with different backgrounds, ideas, histories and personalities, not everyone gets along, but such is life. Oh yes, and I am the President of our little Association so when problems arise, I am the one who gets the call, text, email or knock on the door.
This story takes place a few winters ago when we had snowstorm after snowstorm. In our little community, following a snowstorm, our wonderful snow-clearing crew has four hours to come dig us out. When they arrive, they lay on the horn to let everyone know that the cavalry has arrived and to go move your car. Usually, over half the units are out within five minutes clearing their cars and moving them out of the lot. Often though we need to knock on some doors, usually loudly, because if someone is in their basement or up in a back bedroom, you can’t hear what is happening in the parking lot.
For some reason, even though this is how it has always been done, there are people that seemed surprised, taken aback or just don’t want to go outside when the crew comes. There have been times where people literally look outside, make eye contact, and then don’t come out, sometimes they are even ruder. On the flip side, there are times when neighbors have handed other neighbors their keys as they were tending to a child, or sick, but they realized the importance of getting the parking lot cleaned up for the safety of everyone.
This particular storm was the storm that was going to force us to hire someone to come and remove snow from our property, our snow banks were already towering six to eight feet in the air, we had lost a few parking spaces that we couldn’t afford to lose to massive piles. We needed to get everyone moved to clear what we could so we have the space to fit all the cars that live in the lot.
The horn sounded and we all started exiting our cozy homes, bundled up and carrying shovels and brooms. The Board members gathered for a quick huddle to see whose doors we would have to start knocking on and to divvy up the most unpleasant responders so nobody had to take any flak from more than one neighbor.
But that morning something was different, as we looked around the complex, we were joyously surprised to see that people were coming out from every unit. No knocking, no glaring, no rude comments. Not only that, people were working together, people were helping clear off other people’s cars and digging out tracks for their neighbors to get traction. Everyone was helping everyone.
I was used to seeing some of the guys rock a stuck vehicle but this was a sight to behold, everyone was working together for the good of the whole. For a few minutes people seemed to put all their differences and dislikes aside and just get to work.
If it had happened in December, it would have been a great scene in a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie, where the heroine would make some comments about the Christmas spirit bringing everyone together. But since it was late February, I would have to say that it was more likely the Holy Spirit at work. As God wants us to all be in right relationship with him, with our neighbors and with ourselves, that snowy morning was a brief peak into how calm, peaceful and pleasant life can be when people set their differences aside and just work together to help each other simply because it is the right thing to do.
December 17, 2016
Chris Ryder
Finding hope in the world is difficult at times… the media focuses on the negative and we are bombarded with images of war and human suffering. Where does one go to find the positive, the good...that which gives us hope?
This fall, a member of the staff at the school where I regularly sub experienced a family crisis. While riding his bicycle, her husband was in an accident which resulted in his being hospitalized for 10 days. She has two young children and a new puppy. Needless to say, she was overwhelmed.
The DePaolo “family” quickly came to her aid. Meals were prepared and delivery coordinated. Gift cards for favorite take-out restaurants were purchased. A staff dress down day was arranged to raise money to help with gas. In short, many, some of whom did not know her well, pitched in to make this difficult time a bit easier.
Recently she sent out a thank you email. She explained that she does not use the word “blessed” very often. She uses lucky or grateful. She feels the word blessed should only to be used for significant times. But she said she and her family felt truly blessed by this outpouring of love and support.
The collective actions of this group give me hope, for us as individuals and as fellow human beings. Small acts of kindness combined with other small acts can become a great thing. Although it may sound trite, a single person can make a positive difference. This is the way we are meant to treat each other, with kindness, consideration, and empathy. This is why, in the face of great turmoil and hardship, it is possible to still be hopeful.
Finding hope in the world is difficult at times… the media focuses on the negative and we are bombarded with images of war and human suffering. Where does one go to find the positive, the good...that which gives us hope?
This fall, a member of the staff at the school where I regularly sub experienced a family crisis. While riding his bicycle, her husband was in an accident which resulted in his being hospitalized for 10 days. She has two young children and a new puppy. Needless to say, she was overwhelmed.
The DePaolo “family” quickly came to her aid. Meals were prepared and delivery coordinated. Gift cards for favorite take-out restaurants were purchased. A staff dress down day was arranged to raise money to help with gas. In short, many, some of whom did not know her well, pitched in to make this difficult time a bit easier.
Recently she sent out a thank you email. She explained that she does not use the word “blessed” very often. She uses lucky or grateful. She feels the word blessed should only to be used for significant times. But she said she and her family felt truly blessed by this outpouring of love and support.
The collective actions of this group give me hope, for us as individuals and as fellow human beings. Small acts of kindness combined with other small acts can become a great thing. Although it may sound trite, a single person can make a positive difference. This is the way we are meant to treat each other, with kindness, consideration, and empathy. This is why, in the face of great turmoil and hardship, it is possible to still be hopeful.
December 16, 2016
Suzannah Rohman
I have to admit that after this year’s presidential elections I have found it difficult at times to see where God is breaking into our world. I worry that families are going to be broken up and that some groups of people are going to find their civil rights curtailed. I worry about those who may lose their health insurance and will suffer or die because of this. I worry that we will, as a country, be more prone to respond to violence with violence. I fear that as a nation we are turning inward out of fear and anxiety instead of looking beyond ourselves to help those in need, as we are called to do by Jesus himself. I have found myself looking desperately for some signs of hope.
And then I attended the Episcopal Church in Connecticut’s Celebration of the Spirit on November 20th of this year. It was truly a celebration of the spirit. 2000 Episcopalians from all parts of Connecticut gathered to worship God together. The service was multicultural and truly inspiring. The Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Michael Curry, was the preacher. He is one of the most inspiring preachers that I have ever had the privilege of hearing share the Gospel. He reminded us that in the midst of fear and anxiety, when all seems lost and hope is hard to find, we are to turn to the rock, to God, to Christ. That is our foundation and everything else is sand. Some things may be more difficult in the next few years. There will be people in this country who will suffer greatly because of laws and policies that are put into place. And we are not powerless in the face of these things. We have the rock and as followers of Jesus we can continue to fight for and work for those who are in need in our community and around the world.
I have to admit that after this year’s presidential elections I have found it difficult at times to see where God is breaking into our world. I worry that families are going to be broken up and that some groups of people are going to find their civil rights curtailed. I worry about those who may lose their health insurance and will suffer or die because of this. I worry that we will, as a country, be more prone to respond to violence with violence. I fear that as a nation we are turning inward out of fear and anxiety instead of looking beyond ourselves to help those in need, as we are called to do by Jesus himself. I have found myself looking desperately for some signs of hope.
And then I attended the Episcopal Church in Connecticut’s Celebration of the Spirit on November 20th of this year. It was truly a celebration of the spirit. 2000 Episcopalians from all parts of Connecticut gathered to worship God together. The service was multicultural and truly inspiring. The Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, Michael Curry, was the preacher. He is one of the most inspiring preachers that I have ever had the privilege of hearing share the Gospel. He reminded us that in the midst of fear and anxiety, when all seems lost and hope is hard to find, we are to turn to the rock, to God, to Christ. That is our foundation and everything else is sand. Some things may be more difficult in the next few years. There will be people in this country who will suffer greatly because of laws and policies that are put into place. And we are not powerless in the face of these things. We have the rock and as followers of Jesus we can continue to fight for and work for those who are in need in our community and around the world.
December 15, 2016
Tim Bottone
“Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Two recent experiences helped form my reflection on a time when I caught a glimpse of the world as God intends it to be. One was the Rally Against Violence on October 23 in Meriden and the other was a reflection from our (St Paul’s) Weekly Bible Study program.
In the bible study program, we use the readings and reflections in Forward Day By Day from Forward Movement to guide our study of the Bible. One of the readings from Oct 24, where we remember Saint James of Jerusalem, the brother Jesus, was from the Acts of the Apostles:
Acts 15:19 [James said], “Therefore I have reached the decision that we should not trouble those Gentiles who are turning to God.”
The Acts of the Apostles is a continuation of the Gospel according to Luke. It gives us a view of Jesus’ early followers, led by the Holy Spirit, spreading the Good News of Jesus. There was a dispute among the early followers about “how Jewish” the gentiles who were converting had to be. Did the gentile men need to be circumcised? Did they need to follow all of the laws of Moses? James gave his view that they shouldn’t burden the gentiles who were converting.
In Forward Day by Day, Bishop Scott Hayashi from Utah wrote a reflection on that passage:
“What is God doing in the places where we live? God is always at work trying to bring about the kingdom, God’s reign on earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come...” over and over again. How is God trying to accomplish this in you—in your family, your congregation, your community, your state, your nation?
Do we, like James, recognize the movement of God even if it offends some norm that we find fundamental?
Today we celebrate James, the brother of Jesus. Let us strive to be like him in recognizing when God is at work beyond our zones of comfort. Let us, like him, help that work to flourish.”
That reflection came a day after the Rally against Violence in Meriden. After reflecting on Bishop Hayashi’s message and looking back at the rally, this is where I caught a glimpse of the world as God intends it to be…a world where people from all denominations came together for speeches and prayer to try to end or at least lessen the violence in the world.
At that rally we heard:
A message of forgiveness from Muslim leaders for the man who shot bullets into their Mosque in Meriden, a message to build bridges from a Jewish Rabbi from Meriden, messages condemning violence against too many children, too many people of color, too many police officers and too much injustice in the world from Rev. Matthew Crebbin, senior pastor of Newtown Congregational Church and Bishop John Selders Jr, the pastor of Amistad United Church of Christ in Hartford and the founder of Moral Monday Connecticut.
One message stood out to me. Rev Matthew Crebbin, who was a first responder as a pastor to the Newtown shooting, said, “According to the FBI, only a few hundred justified shootings take place every year. But there are 30,000 gun deaths every year. Yet we still believe the myth that somehow we are safer with a gun… The near infatuation with the gun is moving dangerously close to becoming a full-blown worship of a false idol… People talk about a 2nd Amendment crisis, but what we really have is a 2nd Commandment crisis.” (Thou shall bring no false idols before Me)
Do we, like James, recognize the movement of God even if it offends some norm that we find fundamental?
“Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Two recent experiences helped form my reflection on a time when I caught a glimpse of the world as God intends it to be. One was the Rally Against Violence on October 23 in Meriden and the other was a reflection from our (St Paul’s) Weekly Bible Study program.
In the bible study program, we use the readings and reflections in Forward Day By Day from Forward Movement to guide our study of the Bible. One of the readings from Oct 24, where we remember Saint James of Jerusalem, the brother Jesus, was from the Acts of the Apostles:
Acts 15:19 [James said], “Therefore I have reached the decision that we should not trouble those Gentiles who are turning to God.”
The Acts of the Apostles is a continuation of the Gospel according to Luke. It gives us a view of Jesus’ early followers, led by the Holy Spirit, spreading the Good News of Jesus. There was a dispute among the early followers about “how Jewish” the gentiles who were converting had to be. Did the gentile men need to be circumcised? Did they need to follow all of the laws of Moses? James gave his view that they shouldn’t burden the gentiles who were converting.
In Forward Day by Day, Bishop Scott Hayashi from Utah wrote a reflection on that passage:
“What is God doing in the places where we live? God is always at work trying to bring about the kingdom, God’s reign on earth. We pray “Thy kingdom come...” over and over again. How is God trying to accomplish this in you—in your family, your congregation, your community, your state, your nation?
Do we, like James, recognize the movement of God even if it offends some norm that we find fundamental?
Today we celebrate James, the brother of Jesus. Let us strive to be like him in recognizing when God is at work beyond our zones of comfort. Let us, like him, help that work to flourish.”
That reflection came a day after the Rally against Violence in Meriden. After reflecting on Bishop Hayashi’s message and looking back at the rally, this is where I caught a glimpse of the world as God intends it to be…a world where people from all denominations came together for speeches and prayer to try to end or at least lessen the violence in the world.
At that rally we heard:
A message of forgiveness from Muslim leaders for the man who shot bullets into their Mosque in Meriden, a message to build bridges from a Jewish Rabbi from Meriden, messages condemning violence against too many children, too many people of color, too many police officers and too much injustice in the world from Rev. Matthew Crebbin, senior pastor of Newtown Congregational Church and Bishop John Selders Jr, the pastor of Amistad United Church of Christ in Hartford and the founder of Moral Monday Connecticut.
One message stood out to me. Rev Matthew Crebbin, who was a first responder as a pastor to the Newtown shooting, said, “According to the FBI, only a few hundred justified shootings take place every year. But there are 30,000 gun deaths every year. Yet we still believe the myth that somehow we are safer with a gun… The near infatuation with the gun is moving dangerously close to becoming a full-blown worship of a false idol… People talk about a 2nd Amendment crisis, but what we really have is a 2nd Commandment crisis.” (Thou shall bring no false idols before Me)
Do we, like James, recognize the movement of God even if it offends some norm that we find fundamental?
December 14, 2016
Kathy Lafland
As a youth leader, I am privileged to have witnessed the many times that God has worked through our youth at St. Paul’s. To watch them grow mentally and spiritually and care for each other and this world is a priceless gift. The encounter I want to tell you about was during our J2A pilgrimage to Colorado. The week was filled with absolute beauty and an abundance of God moments. I was amazed to watch as a great group of teens worked, played and prayed together and became closer to one another and closer to God.
The day that impacted me most was when we took the Cog railroad up to Pike’s Peak. The elevation is over 14,000 feet. As a person with asthma, I was a little nervous about not being able to breathe at the top and getting elevation sickness. We all have to get out of our comfort zone so I grabbed my Albuterol inhaler and jumped on the train. As we ascended up the massive mountain the views were indescribable. The scenery changed like a movie screen all the way up the hill. Once we reached the peak, it was the most breathtaking view I have ever seen. Literally we were standing in the clouds. Actually, we were above the clouds at times looking down at them. We brought a bag lunch and all sat down to eat on the rocks looking down at mountains that looked so small and the town below. At that time, one of the youth that had been struggling with their faith said, “all I want is to be hugged by the clouds.” What happened next was amazing. The clouds seemed to dance and move slowly and consumed us. They truly hugged us and you could barely see. It took my breath away (literally) and as they moved away no one was really talking. It was an amazing sight. This was the thinnest space I have ever experienced.
Later that evening we were discussing our day, having our nightly devotions and video-taping everyone’s God moments. During the video, this particular youth was very emotional when reflecting on the impact when the clouds came in. That was the moment they truly believed and God showed his presence to all of us.
As a youth leader, I am privileged to have witnessed the many times that God has worked through our youth at St. Paul’s. To watch them grow mentally and spiritually and care for each other and this world is a priceless gift. The encounter I want to tell you about was during our J2A pilgrimage to Colorado. The week was filled with absolute beauty and an abundance of God moments. I was amazed to watch as a great group of teens worked, played and prayed together and became closer to one another and closer to God.
The day that impacted me most was when we took the Cog railroad up to Pike’s Peak. The elevation is over 14,000 feet. As a person with asthma, I was a little nervous about not being able to breathe at the top and getting elevation sickness. We all have to get out of our comfort zone so I grabbed my Albuterol inhaler and jumped on the train. As we ascended up the massive mountain the views were indescribable. The scenery changed like a movie screen all the way up the hill. Once we reached the peak, it was the most breathtaking view I have ever seen. Literally we were standing in the clouds. Actually, we were above the clouds at times looking down at them. We brought a bag lunch and all sat down to eat on the rocks looking down at mountains that looked so small and the town below. At that time, one of the youth that had been struggling with their faith said, “all I want is to be hugged by the clouds.” What happened next was amazing. The clouds seemed to dance and move slowly and consumed us. They truly hugged us and you could barely see. It took my breath away (literally) and as they moved away no one was really talking. It was an amazing sight. This was the thinnest space I have ever experienced.
Later that evening we were discussing our day, having our nightly devotions and video-taping everyone’s God moments. During the video, this particular youth was very emotional when reflecting on the impact when the clouds came in. That was the moment they truly believed and God showed his presence to all of us.
December 13, 2016
Katherine Stewart Kelley
As a corporate trainer, I travel a lot. In July, I was facilitating a class in Tampa, Florida. I had left my capable son in charge of the house, and in charge of our dog, Tiger, who had been suffering from a lingering infection. She was on medication, but I wasn’t sure if it was working. After a quick recovery, she seemed to be regressing. I wished I could have stayed home, but I knew that Nick could administer her medication and would let me know how she was doing. I flew off to Florida on a Saturday.
On Tuesday, Nick called, worried. Tiger was not really herself. He wasn’t sure what to do. We called the vet and gave her some more time for the medications to work.
On Wednesday, he called again, in obvious distress. Tiger was doing worse. We called our pet sitter, who helped Nick take Tiger to our vet. They transferred her immediately to the ICU at an emergency veterinary hospital. She spent that night receiving fluids and medications. It looked like she would be OK.
Thursday afternoon, the emergency vet called. Tiger had started to get better, but she was now concerned that she was falling back again. She advised another night in the ICU. I approved, and let her know that I would be home the next day.
An hour later, as my co-worker and I were walking to our rental after a long day at work, the vet called in tears. Tiger was in respiratory failure. Did I want them to help her along? Through my own tears, I said goodbye to my beloved friend as the ICU staff eased her pain. But who would ease mine?
As we stood in the middle of a parking garage, my co-worker wrapped his arms around me and told me he understood. We stayed there a few minutes, and then drove back to our hotel.
Normally, Greg and I would have driven separately to work, but this day, we had decided to share a ride. If we hadn’t, he likely would not have been there to comfort me when I needed it. He had lost pets, too, and understood my sorrow, and we talked about it on the way back to the hotel. I was blessed to have him there in my moment of need.
In October, I was at a training conference at Disney World. Part of our experience was an evening at Epcot. I boarded the bus to the park and sat next to another woman who was by herself. We introduced ourselves and started to chat, but it felt like something was wrong. I asked her if she was OK. “No,” she said. “My husband just called me. My dog died today. I wouldn’t be going to the park, but my nephew and his family are meeting me there.” I told her I understood her sorrow, because I had lost pets too, and asked her to tell me about what had happened. As she told me about her pet’s last days and other stories about her, I instinctively took her hand. She squeezed mine back and we rode like that all the way to Epcot, strangers on a bus, holding hands, one talking, one listening. I was blessed to be there in her moment of need.
The Kingdom of God does not usually come to us in awesome revelations or important events. It comes to us in the kindness of others, and we can proclaim it when we share kindness ourselves. This Advent, let’s tune in to those moments, see them for the small miracles that they are, and know we are truly blessed.
As a corporate trainer, I travel a lot. In July, I was facilitating a class in Tampa, Florida. I had left my capable son in charge of the house, and in charge of our dog, Tiger, who had been suffering from a lingering infection. She was on medication, but I wasn’t sure if it was working. After a quick recovery, she seemed to be regressing. I wished I could have stayed home, but I knew that Nick could administer her medication and would let me know how she was doing. I flew off to Florida on a Saturday.
On Tuesday, Nick called, worried. Tiger was not really herself. He wasn’t sure what to do. We called the vet and gave her some more time for the medications to work.
On Wednesday, he called again, in obvious distress. Tiger was doing worse. We called our pet sitter, who helped Nick take Tiger to our vet. They transferred her immediately to the ICU at an emergency veterinary hospital. She spent that night receiving fluids and medications. It looked like she would be OK.
Thursday afternoon, the emergency vet called. Tiger had started to get better, but she was now concerned that she was falling back again. She advised another night in the ICU. I approved, and let her know that I would be home the next day.
An hour later, as my co-worker and I were walking to our rental after a long day at work, the vet called in tears. Tiger was in respiratory failure. Did I want them to help her along? Through my own tears, I said goodbye to my beloved friend as the ICU staff eased her pain. But who would ease mine?
As we stood in the middle of a parking garage, my co-worker wrapped his arms around me and told me he understood. We stayed there a few minutes, and then drove back to our hotel.
Normally, Greg and I would have driven separately to work, but this day, we had decided to share a ride. If we hadn’t, he likely would not have been there to comfort me when I needed it. He had lost pets, too, and understood my sorrow, and we talked about it on the way back to the hotel. I was blessed to have him there in my moment of need.
In October, I was at a training conference at Disney World. Part of our experience was an evening at Epcot. I boarded the bus to the park and sat next to another woman who was by herself. We introduced ourselves and started to chat, but it felt like something was wrong. I asked her if she was OK. “No,” she said. “My husband just called me. My dog died today. I wouldn’t be going to the park, but my nephew and his family are meeting me there.” I told her I understood her sorrow, because I had lost pets too, and asked her to tell me about what had happened. As she told me about her pet’s last days and other stories about her, I instinctively took her hand. She squeezed mine back and we rode like that all the way to Epcot, strangers on a bus, holding hands, one talking, one listening. I was blessed to be there in her moment of need.
The Kingdom of God does not usually come to us in awesome revelations or important events. It comes to us in the kindness of others, and we can proclaim it when we share kindness ourselves. This Advent, let’s tune in to those moments, see them for the small miracles that they are, and know we are truly blessed.
December 12, 2016
Julia Donorfio
Girl Scouts makes the world a better place like God wanted it. Here’s one example, at one of our meetings we each made 10 sticky notes. They said things like smile or be happy, positive things that are only one or two words. After that we put one sticky note on all of the 4th grade lockers. The next day everybody came to school with a compliment on their locker and they didn’t know who it was from. I bet that made their day. Only the Girl Scouts knew about it so it wasn’t a surprise for us but it sure made people happy, even the teachers. I felt happy and satisfied inside. It feels good to make people happy and not expect anything in return. This is what God would want everybody to do- make people’s day without getting anything back.
Girl Scouts makes the world a better place like God wanted it. Here’s one example, at one of our meetings we each made 10 sticky notes. They said things like smile or be happy, positive things that are only one or two words. After that we put one sticky note on all of the 4th grade lockers. The next day everybody came to school with a compliment on their locker and they didn’t know who it was from. I bet that made their day. Only the Girl Scouts knew about it so it wasn’t a surprise for us but it sure made people happy, even the teachers. I felt happy and satisfied inside. It feels good to make people happy and not expect anything in return. This is what God would want everybody to do- make people’s day without getting anything back.
December 11, 2016
Quinton Johansen
In March 2016, Deacon Doreen invited us in Adult Formation to experience prayer through a guided meditation. I thought, why not.
As I settled in and as Doreen ' voice started the journey, I was quickly drawn into the scene. I have a very strong visual imagination. I was experiencing a walk through the woods on an autumn afternoon, with the sunlight falling through the tree canopy, dappling the ground with patches of light and shadow, the autumn smells, the rustling of walking through leaves on the path, birds, etc.
Her voice led us into a clearing with a cabin. I recall seeing a window with flickering light within, indicating a fire and smelling wood smoke. Doreen's voice led toward the cabin's door. We were told that someone would be inside, whomever we desired. As I approached the door, I thought of someone I wanted in the cabin, then I experienced a gentle push back and the message that he needed to remain in my heart. I tried three times, each time with the gentle push back and finally, a "You are not in charge, I am" message which I distinctly heard.
Doreen then told us that the door was slightly ajar and we would push it open. For me, the door was opened before I could even touch it. Welcoming me into the cabin was Patroclus, from the "Iliad". He physically resembled Eric Shanower's drawing of him with long, brown hair and a smile that lit up his whole face. His smile warmed me.
Doreen's voice said that someone would be seated by the fireplace of the cabin. For me a second man, not Patroclus, was seated in front of the fireplace. It took a second for me to sort out the furniture: two straight backed chairs touching side by side. As I stepped up I saw with surprise that Jared Leto was seated in one. He looked at me with his blue eyes and smiled. As I sat down, I felt a tear roll down my right cheek, then one down my left; I let the tears come and buried my face against Jared's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me. I found the most profound sense of love and warmth and well-being as we held each other and I soaked his shirt.
We could not stay forever like that, Jared and I. Doreen ' voice said it was time to leave. I stood and Jared did, too; he held my hands in his. I so wanted to stay; he gently said that we were not through with each other. As he released my hands and I willingly stepped to the door, I took with me the deep love, warmth and well-being.
I stepped outside, noting the sun was low on the horizon and the sunlight and shade was in bands as the light came through the tree trunks. Still in the glow of deep love and well-being I returned the way I had entered. That glow stayed with me through the 10:15 Eucharist.
This meditation was one of the most extraordinary spiritual experiences I have ever had. God meets us where we are. I had no prayer in mind, just opened myself to the journey. God showed Himself to me in the persons of two men, one perhaps just a myth, the other very real and now, who have great meaning to me as exemplars of extravagant love. I live alone and can feel very lonely, isolated at times. I know through this meditation-prayer that I am not alone and God knows my innermost self and deeply loves me, as I am. I still draw on the love, finding strength and assurance more than six months later.
In March 2016, Deacon Doreen invited us in Adult Formation to experience prayer through a guided meditation. I thought, why not.
As I settled in and as Doreen ' voice started the journey, I was quickly drawn into the scene. I have a very strong visual imagination. I was experiencing a walk through the woods on an autumn afternoon, with the sunlight falling through the tree canopy, dappling the ground with patches of light and shadow, the autumn smells, the rustling of walking through leaves on the path, birds, etc.
Her voice led us into a clearing with a cabin. I recall seeing a window with flickering light within, indicating a fire and smelling wood smoke. Doreen's voice led toward the cabin's door. We were told that someone would be inside, whomever we desired. As I approached the door, I thought of someone I wanted in the cabin, then I experienced a gentle push back and the message that he needed to remain in my heart. I tried three times, each time with the gentle push back and finally, a "You are not in charge, I am" message which I distinctly heard.
Doreen then told us that the door was slightly ajar and we would push it open. For me, the door was opened before I could even touch it. Welcoming me into the cabin was Patroclus, from the "Iliad". He physically resembled Eric Shanower's drawing of him with long, brown hair and a smile that lit up his whole face. His smile warmed me.
Doreen's voice said that someone would be seated by the fireplace of the cabin. For me a second man, not Patroclus, was seated in front of the fireplace. It took a second for me to sort out the furniture: two straight backed chairs touching side by side. As I stepped up I saw with surprise that Jared Leto was seated in one. He looked at me with his blue eyes and smiled. As I sat down, I felt a tear roll down my right cheek, then one down my left; I let the tears come and buried my face against Jared's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me. I found the most profound sense of love and warmth and well-being as we held each other and I soaked his shirt.
We could not stay forever like that, Jared and I. Doreen ' voice said it was time to leave. I stood and Jared did, too; he held my hands in his. I so wanted to stay; he gently said that we were not through with each other. As he released my hands and I willingly stepped to the door, I took with me the deep love, warmth and well-being.
I stepped outside, noting the sun was low on the horizon and the sunlight and shade was in bands as the light came through the tree trunks. Still in the glow of deep love and well-being I returned the way I had entered. That glow stayed with me through the 10:15 Eucharist.
This meditation was one of the most extraordinary spiritual experiences I have ever had. God meets us where we are. I had no prayer in mind, just opened myself to the journey. God showed Himself to me in the persons of two men, one perhaps just a myth, the other very real and now, who have great meaning to me as exemplars of extravagant love. I live alone and can feel very lonely, isolated at times. I know through this meditation-prayer that I am not alone and God knows my innermost self and deeply loves me, as I am. I still draw on the love, finding strength and assurance more than six months later.
December 10, 2016
Denise Reindeau
Psalm 130:5
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;
As we grow up, we anticipate the various important stages in our lives, those milestones that we look forward to. I can remember the waiting with anticipation for those important birthdays; 10, 13, 16, and 18. Growing up as a Roman Catholic, I anticipated making my First Holy Communion and the preparation that went into the ceremony and celebration (that white dress!). Holidays with families, especially Christmas morning always brought a sense of anticipation and excitement for what was to come.
As an adult and a teacher, anticipation surrounding the school year is inevitable. In August, the anticipation for the new school year begins with a flurry of activity, planning, and preparing. New ideas, lessons, and projects accompany the new students in the classroom. Questions swirl during the preparation to heighten the anticipation: “Who will I have this year? Will they like me? Will I be able to reach them on their level?” And then the school year begins.
I have to admit that around this time of year, the excitement for the “new” has diminished quite significantly. School has been in session for months now and there is little anticipation for the everyday. This thought, even as I write it, is kind of depressing! Why in only November has it all gone away? Why am I no longer looking forward to ever day? I find that this negative outlook affects the way I act, the way I respond to others, and it affects my reaction to what is going on in the world around me.
I think this is how some people might feel about the anticipation of Christmas. Advent is a time of preparation, not of just gifts, decorating, cooking and cleaning. Advent is a time where we are preparing to become reacquainted with Jesus in our lives and hearts. For me, I know that it’s not only this time of year that I should be embracing Jesus in my life, I should be doing that every day! Advent is our reminder that God is waiting for us too. God is waiting for us to put down all the other stuff that is burdening us and to say “Yes, I am ready” to the welcoming grace God has ready for us.
I know that I approach the season of Advent with trepidation because so much of it is planning and parties, cooking and cleaning, wrapping and preparing. But that is not the Advent that I need to be experiencing. This Advent season, I am making a promise to myself and to my relationship with God. I am promising to experience the faith, hope, longing and anticipation of Advent every day. After the Christmas celebrations have come and gone, through the long and dreary days of February and into the newness of Spring, my hope is that the Advent feeling stays with me. I want to anticipate each new day and the wonders that have been given to me by God. My hope is that this new outlook will not only help me to be the person that God intends for me to be, but it will also help me to see the world as God intends it to be.
Psalm 130:5
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;
As we grow up, we anticipate the various important stages in our lives, those milestones that we look forward to. I can remember the waiting with anticipation for those important birthdays; 10, 13, 16, and 18. Growing up as a Roman Catholic, I anticipated making my First Holy Communion and the preparation that went into the ceremony and celebration (that white dress!). Holidays with families, especially Christmas morning always brought a sense of anticipation and excitement for what was to come.
As an adult and a teacher, anticipation surrounding the school year is inevitable. In August, the anticipation for the new school year begins with a flurry of activity, planning, and preparing. New ideas, lessons, and projects accompany the new students in the classroom. Questions swirl during the preparation to heighten the anticipation: “Who will I have this year? Will they like me? Will I be able to reach them on their level?” And then the school year begins.
I have to admit that around this time of year, the excitement for the “new” has diminished quite significantly. School has been in session for months now and there is little anticipation for the everyday. This thought, even as I write it, is kind of depressing! Why in only November has it all gone away? Why am I no longer looking forward to ever day? I find that this negative outlook affects the way I act, the way I respond to others, and it affects my reaction to what is going on in the world around me.
I think this is how some people might feel about the anticipation of Christmas. Advent is a time of preparation, not of just gifts, decorating, cooking and cleaning. Advent is a time where we are preparing to become reacquainted with Jesus in our lives and hearts. For me, I know that it’s not only this time of year that I should be embracing Jesus in my life, I should be doing that every day! Advent is our reminder that God is waiting for us too. God is waiting for us to put down all the other stuff that is burdening us and to say “Yes, I am ready” to the welcoming grace God has ready for us.
I know that I approach the season of Advent with trepidation because so much of it is planning and parties, cooking and cleaning, wrapping and preparing. But that is not the Advent that I need to be experiencing. This Advent season, I am making a promise to myself and to my relationship with God. I am promising to experience the faith, hope, longing and anticipation of Advent every day. After the Christmas celebrations have come and gone, through the long and dreary days of February and into the newness of Spring, my hope is that the Advent feeling stays with me. I want to anticipate each new day and the wonders that have been given to me by God. My hope is that this new outlook will not only help me to be the person that God intends for me to be, but it will also help me to see the world as God intends it to be.
December 9, 2016
Suzanne Walker
When I imagine the world God intended us to live in, my mind goes directly back to February, 1991. On the streets of Bogota, Colombia, Neil, Matthew, Rachel and I spent many days and weeks strolling around while Rachel’s adoption was finalized. At the time, Rachel was two months old and Matt had just turned 3. It was very clear early on as we toured, shopped and dined throughout the city that our little family unit was an unusual sight to the local population. Neil is of Swedish and Scottish ancestry, I am Italian and Matthew is Korean. There were never unpleasant words spoken by anyone we encountered but the stares certainly made me feel as though we were in a fish bowl. Even though we had parented Matt for three years, I think it was really this experience in Colombia that made me stop and wonder about how it felt to be in the minority with such a diverse-looking family.
This meditation has brought all those feelings back. I am as sure as I can be that it is God’s intention that in the world He created there would never be the concept of the “other”. That even if people gravitated to form tribes, clans and produced varying cultures, that when one human being looked into the eyes of another, he or she would only see another human being. And so, the relationship that developed would start from there.
It is my belief that God has given me that glimpse by allowing me to parent two of His most amazing and diverse creations. I only know when I look into their eyes, I see human beings I will cherish and love forever.
How different would the world be if everyone started from that point and allowed themselves the freedom to experience what I believe is God’s wish for this world?
When I imagine the world God intended us to live in, my mind goes directly back to February, 1991. On the streets of Bogota, Colombia, Neil, Matthew, Rachel and I spent many days and weeks strolling around while Rachel’s adoption was finalized. At the time, Rachel was two months old and Matt had just turned 3. It was very clear early on as we toured, shopped and dined throughout the city that our little family unit was an unusual sight to the local population. Neil is of Swedish and Scottish ancestry, I am Italian and Matthew is Korean. There were never unpleasant words spoken by anyone we encountered but the stares certainly made me feel as though we were in a fish bowl. Even though we had parented Matt for three years, I think it was really this experience in Colombia that made me stop and wonder about how it felt to be in the minority with such a diverse-looking family.
This meditation has brought all those feelings back. I am as sure as I can be that it is God’s intention that in the world He created there would never be the concept of the “other”. That even if people gravitated to form tribes, clans and produced varying cultures, that when one human being looked into the eyes of another, he or she would only see another human being. And so, the relationship that developed would start from there.
It is my belief that God has given me that glimpse by allowing me to parent two of His most amazing and diverse creations. I only know when I look into their eyes, I see human beings I will cherish and love forever.
How different would the world be if everyone started from that point and allowed themselves the freedom to experience what I believe is God’s wish for this world?
December 8, 2016
Mary Muller
There is a photograph (an old-fashioned pre-digital snapshot) that is in a pile of miscellaneous papers in my desk. Someday I will get all that stuff organized … but in the meantime I come upon it unexpectedly every once in a while. It was taken in 2001, and shows a row of five 18-year olds grinning out at the camera from our living room in Erie PA. One of them is our son Thomas, and the others are four of his classmates at an urban magnet High School in Erie. They are a wonderfully diverse group of three boys, and two girls. Two are from traditional white middle-class homes. One is Vietnamese, the daughter of immigrants in whose household English was rarely spoken. Another is of Puerto Rican heritage. Another is a biracial boy whose turbulent home life left him pretty much raising himself through most of high school.
These kids were in the first graduating class from a newly-created school, and in many ways they were trailblazers. Throughout their four years they were team-mates on a very successful “Academic Decathlon” team. They worked very hard together, were passionate about mastering a wide range of subjects, and they were very competitive. They committed themselves to a very challenging goal, supported each other and became close friends over their four high school years. The photo documents the pride and optimism they felt on the day of their graduation.
I guess probably most of us would not choose High School (either our own, or our kids) to describe a moment where we glimpsed the world as God intended it. These kids surely experienced all the pressures, anxieties and rivalries that most of us remember from those days, and this photograph is in many ways a typical graduation party shot. Perhaps I am overblowing just a proud parent moment -of which there have been many. But this moment, with this group, was definitely something amazing and special. It captures the very special relationship and bond they built together. They came from very different cultures, home lives and backgrounds but connected in a way that is rare. Certainly there have been struggles and difficulties for all of them in the years since the picture was taken, but the bond still survives today.
There is a photograph (an old-fashioned pre-digital snapshot) that is in a pile of miscellaneous papers in my desk. Someday I will get all that stuff organized … but in the meantime I come upon it unexpectedly every once in a while. It was taken in 2001, and shows a row of five 18-year olds grinning out at the camera from our living room in Erie PA. One of them is our son Thomas, and the others are four of his classmates at an urban magnet High School in Erie. They are a wonderfully diverse group of three boys, and two girls. Two are from traditional white middle-class homes. One is Vietnamese, the daughter of immigrants in whose household English was rarely spoken. Another is of Puerto Rican heritage. Another is a biracial boy whose turbulent home life left him pretty much raising himself through most of high school.
These kids were in the first graduating class from a newly-created school, and in many ways they were trailblazers. Throughout their four years they were team-mates on a very successful “Academic Decathlon” team. They worked very hard together, were passionate about mastering a wide range of subjects, and they were very competitive. They committed themselves to a very challenging goal, supported each other and became close friends over their four high school years. The photo documents the pride and optimism they felt on the day of their graduation.
I guess probably most of us would not choose High School (either our own, or our kids) to describe a moment where we glimpsed the world as God intended it. These kids surely experienced all the pressures, anxieties and rivalries that most of us remember from those days, and this photograph is in many ways a typical graduation party shot. Perhaps I am overblowing just a proud parent moment -of which there have been many. But this moment, with this group, was definitely something amazing and special. It captures the very special relationship and bond they built together. They came from very different cultures, home lives and backgrounds but connected in a way that is rare. Certainly there have been struggles and difficulties for all of them in the years since the picture was taken, but the bond still survives today.
December 7, 2016
Meredith Bandish
"Advent is a time when we focus on hope, faith, longing and anticipation. It is a time when we hope, long for and anticipate God's coming into this world. It is a time when we focus on our faith, a faith that tells us that in spite of all the terrible things going on around us, God loves us. God loves this world. God intends for this world to be different than it is. God intends that this world be a peaceful and just place for all.”
Every week, I am reminded that God intends for this world we live in to be different than it is most days. Every week I am reminded that God intends for the world in which we live to be filled with love and faith and peace for all. Every week, when I come to St. Paul’s, my heart is full. I come to a place where other people with both good and God in their hearts, come together to show each other, our children and our community what it means to ‘do good.’ We come together to lift each other up, laugh and cry with each other, and work together to achieve goals. While we may not always agree on every issued we are faced with, we are able to let God into our hearts to put petty differences aside and ultimately collaborate with one another. St. Paul’s is more than a Church community- it is a family. A place where regardless of the day or week you’ve had, your faith family will love and support you. Every time I walk through the doors of St. Paul’s I am reminded that God loves us. He loves this world that we live in, and wants us to go and share His goodness and love with others around us.
"Advent is a time when we focus on hope, faith, longing and anticipation. It is a time when we hope, long for and anticipate God's coming into this world. It is a time when we focus on our faith, a faith that tells us that in spite of all the terrible things going on around us, God loves us. God loves this world. God intends for this world to be different than it is. God intends that this world be a peaceful and just place for all.”
Every week, I am reminded that God intends for this world we live in to be different than it is most days. Every week I am reminded that God intends for the world in which we live to be filled with love and faith and peace for all. Every week, when I come to St. Paul’s, my heart is full. I come to a place where other people with both good and God in their hearts, come together to show each other, our children and our community what it means to ‘do good.’ We come together to lift each other up, laugh and cry with each other, and work together to achieve goals. While we may not always agree on every issued we are faced with, we are able to let God into our hearts to put petty differences aside and ultimately collaborate with one another. St. Paul’s is more than a Church community- it is a family. A place where regardless of the day or week you’ve had, your faith family will love and support you. Every time I walk through the doors of St. Paul’s I am reminded that God loves us. He loves this world that we live in, and wants us to go and share His goodness and love with others around us.
December 6, 2016
Connie Barnes
Rev. Suzannah asked if I would write a story for the advent season. I said yes, dreading it. As it turned out this topic was fairly easy.
We were asked to share when we glimpsed the way the world should be. I have seen right here at St. Paul's the way God intends life to be.
Several years ago St. Paul's had a parish meeting to discuss the sale of the property on Vermont Ave to Bread for Life. The group that represented Bread for Life presented their proposal. There was time for questions and small group discussion. The group of people from Bread for Life were excused from the parish hall so parishioners had a chance to talk and vote. In a very short time the result was a resounding YES!! The parish was in complete agreement.
I'm sure that other parishioners feel as I do about that meeting. It's unusual to have a group in complete accord. We, as a united parish, knew this was what God intended for us to do with that property. The building is very close to completion. It will be used as a place to serve people for many generations
Rev. Suzannah asked if I would write a story for the advent season. I said yes, dreading it. As it turned out this topic was fairly easy.
We were asked to share when we glimpsed the way the world should be. I have seen right here at St. Paul's the way God intends life to be.
Several years ago St. Paul's had a parish meeting to discuss the sale of the property on Vermont Ave to Bread for Life. The group that represented Bread for Life presented their proposal. There was time for questions and small group discussion. The group of people from Bread for Life were excused from the parish hall so parishioners had a chance to talk and vote. In a very short time the result was a resounding YES!! The parish was in complete agreement.
I'm sure that other parishioners feel as I do about that meeting. It's unusual to have a group in complete accord. We, as a united parish, knew this was what God intended for us to do with that property. The building is very close to completion. It will be used as a place to serve people for many generations
December 5, 2016
Lisa Olsen
Those of you who know me would not be surprised when I describe myself as a type "A" personality. Organized, outgoing, impatient and intense, I often find myself stressed and anxious when the world around me isn't as I think it should be, in other words, perfect. This is my norm and I have always been this way.
In the days leading up to my wedding, my mom was very worried about how frazzled I would feel and rightfully so. It is typical for most brides to be nervous and jittery about all the details, wanting everything to be perfect and this should have been particularly true for me. However, as I stood in the back of St. Mark's Episcopal Church waiting to walk down the aisle, I felt a sense of calm overcome me. I was not feeling as I normally would and was able to enjoy an extremely beautiful day with my new husband. At the time, I didn't think much about what for me was an unusual reaction.
Fast forward six years, and Dean and I were expecting our first child together, after some difficulty conceiving. Becoming parents is a daunting experience for most and we were nervously awaiting the baby's arrival. What we couldn't anticipate was me going into labor 6-1/2 weeks early. As scary as that was, I didn't freak out as anticipated, but once again, a feeling of calm came over me. As we began our journey to Hannah's birth, I was relaxed and peaceful and able to be in the moment without my customary stress. I realized later that my hope and faith allowed me to put any worries and concerns into God's hands.
I absolutely believe God's presence guided me through these milestones in my life. My hope and faith in God allowed me to step out of my "norm" and be truly present in my experiences of becoming a wife and mother, instead of focusing on the external circumstances that usually distract me. I may not be able to feel this serenity regularly in my daily life, but I know God is here with me to give me peace by sharing my burdens, especially in times of distress. No, my wedding day was not perfect, nor was the birth of either one of my premature daughters, but God was there sustaining me each time. And I know that God loves and supports all of us in the same way, giving me hope and faith for the world.
Those of you who know me would not be surprised when I describe myself as a type "A" personality. Organized, outgoing, impatient and intense, I often find myself stressed and anxious when the world around me isn't as I think it should be, in other words, perfect. This is my norm and I have always been this way.
In the days leading up to my wedding, my mom was very worried about how frazzled I would feel and rightfully so. It is typical for most brides to be nervous and jittery about all the details, wanting everything to be perfect and this should have been particularly true for me. However, as I stood in the back of St. Mark's Episcopal Church waiting to walk down the aisle, I felt a sense of calm overcome me. I was not feeling as I normally would and was able to enjoy an extremely beautiful day with my new husband. At the time, I didn't think much about what for me was an unusual reaction.
Fast forward six years, and Dean and I were expecting our first child together, after some difficulty conceiving. Becoming parents is a daunting experience for most and we were nervously awaiting the baby's arrival. What we couldn't anticipate was me going into labor 6-1/2 weeks early. As scary as that was, I didn't freak out as anticipated, but once again, a feeling of calm came over me. As we began our journey to Hannah's birth, I was relaxed and peaceful and able to be in the moment without my customary stress. I realized later that my hope and faith allowed me to put any worries and concerns into God's hands.
I absolutely believe God's presence guided me through these milestones in my life. My hope and faith in God allowed me to step out of my "norm" and be truly present in my experiences of becoming a wife and mother, instead of focusing on the external circumstances that usually distract me. I may not be able to feel this serenity regularly in my daily life, but I know God is here with me to give me peace by sharing my burdens, especially in times of distress. No, my wedding day was not perfect, nor was the birth of either one of my premature daughters, but God was there sustaining me each time. And I know that God loves and supports all of us in the same way, giving me hope and faith for the world.
December 4, 2016
The Season of Advent
From The Rite Place: Kids Do Church! By Shawn M. Schreiner and Dennis E. Northway, page 60.
Advent is the Church’s season of active expectation. Liturgy can be defined as the ‘work of the people’ [from the Greek ergon (work) + laos (people)] as we gather to pray and praise. In Advent, as in all the seasons of the church, we wish to express importance of the participation of everyone in worship. So we invite you and your family to bring all of your senses to the experience: look around and notice how our church, a sacred space, is structured and decorated, how the lighting grows as we advance ever closer to Christmas. Listen to the prayers and the songs. Sniff the air for the unmistakable signs of the season. Lift your own voice—and encourage others around you to do the same—as we pray and sing together to remind ourselves and others that God is with us still (the meaning of Emmanuel). And then wind your way back out into the world which God continues to love, and spread the word as you do the work God has called you to do every day of the week.
Making and using Advent wreaths is an ancient custom of the church. While there are many different versions of what the wreaths themselves mean or symbolize, most of us can get to the center of the meaning by knowing that the wreath is a way to mark the journey looking back at and towards the birth of little baby Jesus.
From The Rite Place: Kids Do Church! By Shawn M. Schreiner and Dennis E. Northway, page 60.
Advent is the Church’s season of active expectation. Liturgy can be defined as the ‘work of the people’ [from the Greek ergon (work) + laos (people)] as we gather to pray and praise. In Advent, as in all the seasons of the church, we wish to express importance of the participation of everyone in worship. So we invite you and your family to bring all of your senses to the experience: look around and notice how our church, a sacred space, is structured and decorated, how the lighting grows as we advance ever closer to Christmas. Listen to the prayers and the songs. Sniff the air for the unmistakable signs of the season. Lift your own voice—and encourage others around you to do the same—as we pray and sing together to remind ourselves and others that God is with us still (the meaning of Emmanuel). And then wind your way back out into the world which God continues to love, and spread the word as you do the work God has called you to do every day of the week.
Making and using Advent wreaths is an ancient custom of the church. While there are many different versions of what the wreaths themselves mean or symbolize, most of us can get to the center of the meaning by knowing that the wreath is a way to mark the journey looking back at and towards the birth of little baby Jesus.
December 3, 2016
Sue Culotta
I struggled for weeks to find a meaningful event, a specific moment that made me aware that God intends the world to be different than it is for this meditation. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I felt this through the actions of a group of kids. I was at my son’s 8th grade football game in Madison watching both teams battle for a win. The clock was running down and Southington was losing with little time left to recover. Typically when we are faced with this situation, fans and players alike are agitated. Frustration levels are high and at times some negative attitudes are seen, even amongst the team. But not today…
It was the final play of the game and out came a Madison player named Willie Wilson. We soon found out this brave young man has severe autism. The play was set and the ball was passed to Willie, who ran with such heart and passion, by our entire team who stood by cheering him on as he made the final touchdown. He was then carried off the field on the shoulders of his teammates. Parents from both sides cried and cheered for him that he was able to have that memory and that our kids were part of this amazing plan.
What a glorious moment and testament that God is present and to see his Word so profoundly expressed through our kids made it even more heartfelt. I pray every day that this world will be a better place for my children and this moment certainly makes me hopeful.
I struggled for weeks to find a meaningful event, a specific moment that made me aware that God intends the world to be different than it is for this meditation. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I felt this through the actions of a group of kids. I was at my son’s 8th grade football game in Madison watching both teams battle for a win. The clock was running down and Southington was losing with little time left to recover. Typically when we are faced with this situation, fans and players alike are agitated. Frustration levels are high and at times some negative attitudes are seen, even amongst the team. But not today…
It was the final play of the game and out came a Madison player named Willie Wilson. We soon found out this brave young man has severe autism. The play was set and the ball was passed to Willie, who ran with such heart and passion, by our entire team who stood by cheering him on as he made the final touchdown. He was then carried off the field on the shoulders of his teammates. Parents from both sides cried and cheered for him that he was able to have that memory and that our kids were part of this amazing plan.
What a glorious moment and testament that God is present and to see his Word so profoundly expressed through our kids made it even more heartfelt. I pray every day that this world will be a better place for my children and this moment certainly makes me hopeful.
December 2, 2016
Suzannah Rohman
Several years ago I received a call late one night asking me to come to the local hospital, as a 15 year old member of my congregation had been in a serious car accident. I threw some clothes on and got there as quickly as I could. When I arrived the doctor told me that the young man was brain dead, but was being kept on life support so that his organs could be donated to others who needed them.
It was a truly terrible scene. I young man caught between life and death and in the next room a young me caught in a living death who had just been told that his best friend was dead as a result of a mistake he made while driving. This wasn’t the first time I had been in the middle of such a tragic moment. My previous experiences with this kind of traumatic death had been very ugly—family members screaming at each other, security being called in to keep people from physically harming each other. I wasn’t expecting to find much light in this situation either, but I was wrong.
I found the parents of the dead young man. They were of course distraught and in unimaginable pain, but they weren’t angry or bitter or any of the other things I expected them to be. It was very hard to see their son caught between life and death, but they took great comfort from the knowledge that something good would come from his death—lives would be saved from their son’s organs. It also turned out that they had asked me to come not to comfort them, but to offer some comfort and hope to the young man who had been at the wheel of the car and his family. These incredibly courageous and loving people realized that their son was beyond suffering, but the suffering of the driver of the car was only beginning. They knew that their son might be caught between life and death, but would shortly be with God. The other young man, without some help, was likely to be caught in a living death the rest of his life. In the love and compassion of these grieving parents, I caught a glimpse of the kingdom of God.
Several years ago I received a call late one night asking me to come to the local hospital, as a 15 year old member of my congregation had been in a serious car accident. I threw some clothes on and got there as quickly as I could. When I arrived the doctor told me that the young man was brain dead, but was being kept on life support so that his organs could be donated to others who needed them.
It was a truly terrible scene. I young man caught between life and death and in the next room a young me caught in a living death who had just been told that his best friend was dead as a result of a mistake he made while driving. This wasn’t the first time I had been in the middle of such a tragic moment. My previous experiences with this kind of traumatic death had been very ugly—family members screaming at each other, security being called in to keep people from physically harming each other. I wasn’t expecting to find much light in this situation either, but I was wrong.
I found the parents of the dead young man. They were of course distraught and in unimaginable pain, but they weren’t angry or bitter or any of the other things I expected them to be. It was very hard to see their son caught between life and death, but they took great comfort from the knowledge that something good would come from his death—lives would be saved from their son’s organs. It also turned out that they had asked me to come not to comfort them, but to offer some comfort and hope to the young man who had been at the wheel of the car and his family. These incredibly courageous and loving people realized that their son was beyond suffering, but the suffering of the driver of the car was only beginning. They knew that their son might be caught between life and death, but would shortly be with God. The other young man, without some help, was likely to be caught in a living death the rest of his life. In the love and compassion of these grieving parents, I caught a glimpse of the kingdom of God.
December 1, 2016
Bethany Rosin
Advent is a time of hope.
When I was a junior at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., I had the privilege to complete a semester abroad in Guatemala. My school partnered with Eastern Mennonite University (EMU) in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. There were three of us from my university that considered themselves “Catholic” and about 20 students from EMU. The Mennonites were extremely welcoming and kind, but worshipped differently – it seemed as though they worshipped more thoughtfully than what I was accustomed to. My fellow travelers would worship together and feel God’s love during all parts of their day and would sing in four part harmonies at lunch, in the van or whenever they were so moved.
One weekend we traveled to a remote town in Guatemala of indigenous refugees who lost everything from the decades long Civil War. The town was working with Mennonite missionaries to build schools, suitable housing and plant sustainable crops. We drove hours on dirt roads in the back of pickup trucks to our weekend destination. When we arrived my friend Rhonda and I were assigned to stay with a family of four. The family “home” was an open air area for cooking over a fire and an enclosed room for sleeping. Near the cooking area there was a large blue drum of water for cooking and bathing and an outhouse a short walk from the living area. The room was made from boards nailed together and I could see the sunlight peek between the boards and feel the wind blow through them at night. There was a dirt floor and a bed that was made of 3 wooden boards with a blanket on top. The family typically slept together on those boards but gave it to us for the weekend while they slept outside on the ground.
The thing that was most interesting to me was that they were so thankful for our visit. We were not allowed to bring anything for them due to the missionaries’ rules, so it was not as though there was an exchange of goods for their space. They were thankful for our visit just because they were thankful for people who wanted to know them and understand their life. They were thankful for visitors and the hope and encouragement that we brought.
I remember there was a full moon that weekend which illuminated the path as we walked into town. I remember feeling grateful. Grateful not only for what I have but grateful for the experience and their hospitality. I also remember the way the family made me feel at ease even though I was in such a strange land with people who had been through so much. These were people who had lost friends, family, homes and their land to war. People who had hurt so deeply and were now together trying to pick up the pieces and restart their lives. The townspeople and the students in my group came together for dinner, dancing, singing and worship I could not help but feel overwhelmed with hope despite the lack of “things” that surrounded me. I had been given so much by people who had so few “things” to give. The hope and support that surrounded them encouraged them each day to create a better community for their children and generations to come.
Advent is a time of hope.
When I was a junior at the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., I had the privilege to complete a semester abroad in Guatemala. My school partnered with Eastern Mennonite University (EMU) in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. There were three of us from my university that considered themselves “Catholic” and about 20 students from EMU. The Mennonites were extremely welcoming and kind, but worshipped differently – it seemed as though they worshipped more thoughtfully than what I was accustomed to. My fellow travelers would worship together and feel God’s love during all parts of their day and would sing in four part harmonies at lunch, in the van or whenever they were so moved.
One weekend we traveled to a remote town in Guatemala of indigenous refugees who lost everything from the decades long Civil War. The town was working with Mennonite missionaries to build schools, suitable housing and plant sustainable crops. We drove hours on dirt roads in the back of pickup trucks to our weekend destination. When we arrived my friend Rhonda and I were assigned to stay with a family of four. The family “home” was an open air area for cooking over a fire and an enclosed room for sleeping. Near the cooking area there was a large blue drum of water for cooking and bathing and an outhouse a short walk from the living area. The room was made from boards nailed together and I could see the sunlight peek between the boards and feel the wind blow through them at night. There was a dirt floor and a bed that was made of 3 wooden boards with a blanket on top. The family typically slept together on those boards but gave it to us for the weekend while they slept outside on the ground.
The thing that was most interesting to me was that they were so thankful for our visit. We were not allowed to bring anything for them due to the missionaries’ rules, so it was not as though there was an exchange of goods for their space. They were thankful for our visit just because they were thankful for people who wanted to know them and understand their life. They were thankful for visitors and the hope and encouragement that we brought.
I remember there was a full moon that weekend which illuminated the path as we walked into town. I remember feeling grateful. Grateful not only for what I have but grateful for the experience and their hospitality. I also remember the way the family made me feel at ease even though I was in such a strange land with people who had been through so much. These were people who had lost friends, family, homes and their land to war. People who had hurt so deeply and were now together trying to pick up the pieces and restart their lives. The townspeople and the students in my group came together for dinner, dancing, singing and worship I could not help but feel overwhelmed with hope despite the lack of “things” that surrounded me. I had been given so much by people who had so few “things” to give. The hope and support that surrounded them encouraged them each day to create a better community for their children and generations to come.
November 30th, 2016
Nancy Sewell
Yes, there are a lot of horrible things going on in the world. And whether the issues are any worse now than the past depends upon your view point. We are much more global now, our news bombards us 24 hours a day. The things happening are horrendous and unthinkable.
A glimpse of God’s Kingdom? The first year we went to Boston MA for an urban adventure with the teens. We went to Boston Commons to a service with hundreds of people who are homeless and after we would feed them. We were told to spread out a bit in the circle so that we were not all standing next to each other...”become part of the real congregation”. I hardly focused on the service in the beginning as I constantly watched our kids to be sure they were safe. It was also my first exposure to homeless people. I dreaded passing the peace...what kind of diseases do they have on their hands? Are we going to have to drink from the same cup? Not us! I was going to protect these kids!
And then came “the sermon”. The reading for the day was “Love your Neighbor”. And as is tradition at Common Cathedral, the congregation is asked to actively participate. One by one, they talked of loving their neighbor. One man said, “On a very cold winter day, I sat on the bench right over there and held a man dying from the cold, he froze to death; I held him until his last breath so he wouldn’t be alone”. At the prayers of the people (while we might pray for the homeless), the intercessor who was homeless prayed for the children who live in the subway beneath us and just then the ground shook and you could feel the subway passing under us. Children live down there? (I was pretty clueless about things).
And then it came time “The Peace of the Lord be you”...time to pass the peace! All of a sudden, it became apparent that these people knew more about God’s Kingdom than I did. How could I not pass the peace to each of them? I did. And at communion time, of course we didn’t all drink from the same cup; we had individual tiny disposable cups and the Eucharist that day has never been forgotten or more meaningful. God spoke to me in Boston about his Kingdom.
Now, we might think of the injustice that in this country, people are hungry or children live in the subway and that is very true. But I also think that a glimpse of the kingdom is when we take care of each other no matter what our status in life is. Everyone has something to offer. Sometimes it is just a hand holding another on a cold winter night.
Yes, there are a lot of horrible things going on in the world. And whether the issues are any worse now than the past depends upon your view point. We are much more global now, our news bombards us 24 hours a day. The things happening are horrendous and unthinkable.
A glimpse of God’s Kingdom? The first year we went to Boston MA for an urban adventure with the teens. We went to Boston Commons to a service with hundreds of people who are homeless and after we would feed them. We were told to spread out a bit in the circle so that we were not all standing next to each other...”become part of the real congregation”. I hardly focused on the service in the beginning as I constantly watched our kids to be sure they were safe. It was also my first exposure to homeless people. I dreaded passing the peace...what kind of diseases do they have on their hands? Are we going to have to drink from the same cup? Not us! I was going to protect these kids!
And then came “the sermon”. The reading for the day was “Love your Neighbor”. And as is tradition at Common Cathedral, the congregation is asked to actively participate. One by one, they talked of loving their neighbor. One man said, “On a very cold winter day, I sat on the bench right over there and held a man dying from the cold, he froze to death; I held him until his last breath so he wouldn’t be alone”. At the prayers of the people (while we might pray for the homeless), the intercessor who was homeless prayed for the children who live in the subway beneath us and just then the ground shook and you could feel the subway passing under us. Children live down there? (I was pretty clueless about things).
And then it came time “The Peace of the Lord be you”...time to pass the peace! All of a sudden, it became apparent that these people knew more about God’s Kingdom than I did. How could I not pass the peace to each of them? I did. And at communion time, of course we didn’t all drink from the same cup; we had individual tiny disposable cups and the Eucharist that day has never been forgotten or more meaningful. God spoke to me in Boston about his Kingdom.
Now, we might think of the injustice that in this country, people are hungry or children live in the subway and that is very true. But I also think that a glimpse of the kingdom is when we take care of each other no matter what our status in life is. Everyone has something to offer. Sometimes it is just a hand holding another on a cold winter night.
November 29th, 2016
Suzannah Rohman
About 15 years ago I was an assistant rector in a parish in Delaware. Every summer we would take a group of about 50 youth, college students and adults to South Dakota to work on an Indian Reservation. Being an Episcopal Church, our group was mostly white. We did, however, have one adult leader who was black. This is important for the story.
During our trip we stayed in a church on the reservation. We were invited one evening to a dance for youth at the local high school. We were excited to attend. However, a couple of hours before the dance was due to begin we received word that there might be gang activity at the dance. The reservation had two rival gangs and sometimes these gangs got violent.
The adults in the group met and after some discussion decided that our group would not attend the dance. The black man in our group became very angry. This touched a place of deep hurt and pain in him. For him this was a very racist decision on our part. As a young, black man, he had encountered racism throughout his entire life. For us we thought we were simply protecting our young people.
Very quickly the situation started to spiral out of control. Our previously tight-knit group began to splinter apart, with my boss, the rector of our parish heading one side and the black man heading the other. We were thousands of miles away from home, exhausted and I feared for our group and the rest of our trip. I honestly did not know what to do. Fortunately one of the others did, and he acted quickly and gave us all a glimpse of God in the process.
His name was David, he stepped forward and knelt down on the floor in front of the black man. He didn’t argue with the man. He didn’t defend our actions. He simply knelt, looked the man in the eye and said, “I am so sorry. I apologize from the bottom of my heart for hurting you and for all the wrongs that have been done to you throughout your life simply because of the color of your skin.” You could have heard a pin drop. The room went completely silent and the atmosphere changed completely. A spirit of peace entered the space and the conflict was immediately diffused. We didn’t all agree on what we should do about the dance, but we were no longer at each other’s throats. The injured man felt heard and a little bit of healing occurred for everyone. Every single one of us caught a glimpse of the kingdom of God that day.
About 15 years ago I was an assistant rector in a parish in Delaware. Every summer we would take a group of about 50 youth, college students and adults to South Dakota to work on an Indian Reservation. Being an Episcopal Church, our group was mostly white. We did, however, have one adult leader who was black. This is important for the story.
During our trip we stayed in a church on the reservation. We were invited one evening to a dance for youth at the local high school. We were excited to attend. However, a couple of hours before the dance was due to begin we received word that there might be gang activity at the dance. The reservation had two rival gangs and sometimes these gangs got violent.
The adults in the group met and after some discussion decided that our group would not attend the dance. The black man in our group became very angry. This touched a place of deep hurt and pain in him. For him this was a very racist decision on our part. As a young, black man, he had encountered racism throughout his entire life. For us we thought we were simply protecting our young people.
Very quickly the situation started to spiral out of control. Our previously tight-knit group began to splinter apart, with my boss, the rector of our parish heading one side and the black man heading the other. We were thousands of miles away from home, exhausted and I feared for our group and the rest of our trip. I honestly did not know what to do. Fortunately one of the others did, and he acted quickly and gave us all a glimpse of God in the process.
His name was David, he stepped forward and knelt down on the floor in front of the black man. He didn’t argue with the man. He didn’t defend our actions. He simply knelt, looked the man in the eye and said, “I am so sorry. I apologize from the bottom of my heart for hurting you and for all the wrongs that have been done to you throughout your life simply because of the color of your skin.” You could have heard a pin drop. The room went completely silent and the atmosphere changed completely. A spirit of peace entered the space and the conflict was immediately diffused. We didn’t all agree on what we should do about the dance, but we were no longer at each other’s throats. The injured man felt heard and a little bit of healing occurred for everyone. Every single one of us caught a glimpse of the kingdom of God that day.
November 28th, 2016
Karen Donorfio
In August of 2010, I took a position as the Administrator at a nursing home about 45 minutes from my home. I had no idea what I was about to experience. During my first introductions with the staff, I learned that there had been several occasions where the staff were not paid timely and that supply orders were often on hold due to payment.
I immediately got to work on a strategic plan to improve occupancy and revenue as well as billing and cash flow. Despite my best efforts, the week before Thanksgiving I could not make payroll. That weekend, I went into the facility to thank every staff member for coming to work even though they had not gotten paid on Thursday. Watching them, I knew that I could not do it alone. On Monday morning, I gathered my team in the large Dining Room and told them the truth regarding the dire situation. I then lined everyone up for a photo. I told them that this was the team that was going to be successful!
Granted, things were not perfect after that. In fact, at one point I had to tell my department heads that we were not going to make payroll. I told them that if we withheld each of their paychecks, we could afford to pay the line staff (CNAs, nurses, cooks, housekeepers, dietary aides). As leaders of the facility, they agreed to withhold their paychecks until next week.
After a lot of hard work by all, things did start to improve. In fact, the state receiver of the facility had deemed the facility financially viable and we were getting ready for a sale. As the soon to be new owner began to make visits I was informed that he would not need me as the Administrator. Often, new companies bring in their own Administrator. But I felt torn. I knew this could still be a very long process even if it did sell. But at the same time I had to think about my family. My daughter would soon be going to kindergarten and I would be 45 minutes away from her school. I interviewed for three closer Administrator positions and declined every single one. I had no guarantee of a job at the end of all this, but I just felt that I could not leave before the building was truly ready for a sale.
On December 31, 2011, I walked into the nursing home for the last time. It was my last day as the sale would be finalized that afternoon. I did not have a job to go to.
For two weeks following that, I was devastated. I had put my heart and soul into something I believed in and now I was without a job. Would God really let this happen? I had done a good thing! But this was some reward!! Then one afternoon, I opened the mailbox and there was a card from a recruiter, personally addressed to me. I couldn’t believe it- it was actually from the recruiter of one of the nursing homes that I had declined a job a couple of months ago. And better yet, it was for an Administrator job only 15 minutes from home at Apple Rehab Farmington Valley.
I still work for Apple Rehab and in fact have been promoted twice since then. I know now that God had a plan for me all along and I do not at all regret the experience that I had! It was certainly a lesson in faith.
In August of 2010, I took a position as the Administrator at a nursing home about 45 minutes from my home. I had no idea what I was about to experience. During my first introductions with the staff, I learned that there had been several occasions where the staff were not paid timely and that supply orders were often on hold due to payment.
I immediately got to work on a strategic plan to improve occupancy and revenue as well as billing and cash flow. Despite my best efforts, the week before Thanksgiving I could not make payroll. That weekend, I went into the facility to thank every staff member for coming to work even though they had not gotten paid on Thursday. Watching them, I knew that I could not do it alone. On Monday morning, I gathered my team in the large Dining Room and told them the truth regarding the dire situation. I then lined everyone up for a photo. I told them that this was the team that was going to be successful!
Granted, things were not perfect after that. In fact, at one point I had to tell my department heads that we were not going to make payroll. I told them that if we withheld each of their paychecks, we could afford to pay the line staff (CNAs, nurses, cooks, housekeepers, dietary aides). As leaders of the facility, they agreed to withhold their paychecks until next week.
After a lot of hard work by all, things did start to improve. In fact, the state receiver of the facility had deemed the facility financially viable and we were getting ready for a sale. As the soon to be new owner began to make visits I was informed that he would not need me as the Administrator. Often, new companies bring in their own Administrator. But I felt torn. I knew this could still be a very long process even if it did sell. But at the same time I had to think about my family. My daughter would soon be going to kindergarten and I would be 45 minutes away from her school. I interviewed for three closer Administrator positions and declined every single one. I had no guarantee of a job at the end of all this, but I just felt that I could not leave before the building was truly ready for a sale.
On December 31, 2011, I walked into the nursing home for the last time. It was my last day as the sale would be finalized that afternoon. I did not have a job to go to.
For two weeks following that, I was devastated. I had put my heart and soul into something I believed in and now I was without a job. Would God really let this happen? I had done a good thing! But this was some reward!! Then one afternoon, I opened the mailbox and there was a card from a recruiter, personally addressed to me. I couldn’t believe it- it was actually from the recruiter of one of the nursing homes that I had declined a job a couple of months ago. And better yet, it was for an Administrator job only 15 minutes from home at Apple Rehab Farmington Valley.
I still work for Apple Rehab and in fact have been promoted twice since then. I know now that God had a plan for me all along and I do not at all regret the experience that I had! It was certainly a lesson in faith.
November 27th, 2016
At the very beginning of the Gospel of Luke, Mary, the mother of Jesus, speaks those beautiful words we know as the Magnificat:
"My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever."
It is a beautiful song that is full of faith, hope, longing and anticipation. Mary, a Jewish woman of 2000 years ago, lived during a brutal time and in a brutal place. She was born into an occupied land. Those who had material wealth had a lot and everyone else had next to nothing. The average person lived close to starvation most of the time. And yet, Mary believed with all her heart and soul that God would bring good things to her suffering people. She longed for and anticipated the day when things would be made right. She believed with every fiber of her being that the baby she carried in her womb was the one who would turn the world on its head and show the world what God wants for this world—a place where peace is the most powerful force, everyone has enough to eat and a place to live, power is shared equally amongst everyone, and relationships between human beings are restored and made whole.
We too live in a world that is far from perfect and far from being the world God wishes for us. We know that there is still a lot of suffering in this world. We know that people die of starvation every day. We know that the rich get richer on the backs of those who do not have enough. We know that power is not shared equally. We know that there is frequently more violence than peace in the world around us. And yet, as Christians we have the hope of Mary, because through Jesus we have caught a glimpse of the world as it might be, the world as God intends it. And as followers of Jesus, we are charged with giving the rest of the world a glimpse of the world as God intends it.
Advent is a time of faith, hope, longing and anticipation. It is the period of time in the church year when we hope and long for the coming of Jesus, God made human, into the world. What follows are short stories from the members of St. Paul’s about times when they caught a glimpse of the world as it might be, the world as God intends it. May these stories help you to keep a holy Advent. May they help you have hope and faith as you too wait for Jesus to come.
Peace,
Suzannah +