The season of Lent has its roots in the pre-Easter time originally set aside to prepare adults for their baptism in the pre-dawn hours of Easter Sunday. Later Lent took on a penitential tone, being a time of public penance for “those who, because of notorious sins, had been separated from [the Church]” [BCP 265]. What if we are neither adult catechumens nor “notorious sinners”? We are asked to support catechumens and consider our own need for repentance and renewal, but then we are also invited to “prepare with joy for the Paschal feast” (BCP 379).

Our Lenten Group will respond to that invitation by studying the origins of the Easter Vigil, its component parts, and the ways in which it has changed through the centuries. As we reflect on its structure and content–especially the readings of the Vigil–group participants will be invited to consider how the Vigil at COS can celebrate our own resurrection faith.

The Lenten season is about Jesus and the experience his disciples had on the road to Jerusalem, but it is also about us: our lives, the places where we experience conflict and struggle, sin and death, grace and resurrection. Each evening, we will begin with an opportunity for sharing the experiences of our personal 2010 Lenten journey and/or reflections on one or more of the biblical texts from the Vigil. Bring your experiences, strengths and hope, your insights, questions and doubts and join us in this Lenten exploration.

Week 1: February 24: The origins of the season of Lent, the development of the Easter Vigil and current practices
Week 2: March 3: Troubling Waters: The flood and the Red Sea. Stories of liberation or terror?
Week 3: March 17: The Sacrifice of Isaac: Salvation story or nightmare?
Week 4: March 24: Creating our own Easter Vigil
Week 5: March 31, the Wednesday of Holy Week: Resurrection! This session will be led by Karen King.

Thursday, January 14 – Rev. Lily deYoung
Thursday, January 21 – Bishop Thomas Shaw
Thursday, January 28 – Rev. Lily deYoung
Thursday, February 4 – Bishop Thomas Shaw

The season of Advent, more than any other time in the church year, invites us to embrace the spiritual discipline of waiting. This Advent season, explore in community those things you are awaiting and the ways in which you await them, and discover spirituality inherent in the process of waiting. This group, facilitated by Amanda Akes, will creatively use Holly Whitcomb’s book, Seven Spiritual Gifts of Waiting, to create space for meditation, reflection, and discussion. Whitcomb’s book is not required for participation. Childcare will be provided.

We will be meeting in the Parish Hall on
December 9 at 7 pm
December 17 at 7 pm

When I met the young man that I will call Matthew he was lying in a hospital bed in a darkened room, all alone. At first, I hesitated to step into the room because I thought that he might be asleep and even chaplains know that restful sleep ranks right up there with prayer in terms of healing power! But Matthew stirred and acknowledged my presence. I went over to him and, because I noticed that his face was bruised, I asked if he had been in an accident. Matthew nodded and hesitated. I then asked him if he was in pain and again he nodded. But this time, he smiled slightly and said, “it’s really not too bad.” I smiled in return, explaining who I was and why I was there. Matthew told me that he no longer went to church–this did not surprise me because many of the folks that I meet in the hospital no longer belong to a formal church. It was clear to me though that Matthew wanted me to stay with him. He told me that he was “marked”; he very proudly showed me a tattoo on his lower inside arm. It was a rosary with the names of Jesus and Mary in the center. He then pulled his hospital gown down a bit so that I could see that he had a Bible verse tattooed on the shoulder of the other arm. Matthew told me that he had chosen these tattoos a few years ago because they made him feel close to God whenever he looked at them.

I asked Matthew if he felt close to God lying in his hospital bed. He teared up a bit and told me about the accident which had occurred two days before. He had been attending an outdoor concert with a friend. At the end, as he and his friend were getting in the car to return home, a young woman asked for a ride part of the way. His friend who was driving agreed and off they went. The next details were quite fuzzy for Matthew–he recalled the vehicle crashing, then his climb out of the car, staggering down the road a bit where he found the dead body of the young woman. His friend was alive but seriously hurt and had been airlifted to another hospital. Matthew had been brought to the community hospital to have his injuries attended to. Although it was likely that he would physically recover completely, I realized that he knew that he had been “marked” again in a very special way by this experience. He told me that, since the accident, he now wanted to “do good” in his life (not that he had been a “bad” person before this). But now he felt close to a loving God in a new way and, as a result, he wanted to help other people; he wanted to make a difference.

Of course, I wondered if Matthew was simply responding to the trauma of the accident and the fact that his life had been spared while others had not. But, as I explored it further with him, I realized that this tragic accident was possibly a catalyst for a renewed sense of purpose and connection with the divine. Something clearly had shifted for Matthew and he knew it. We continued to talk and I gently suggested that he might explore church communities of faithful people who could support him on his quest. When it was time for me to leave, Matthew and I prayed together. I gave thanks for holy time in a darkened room now marked by new light.

Two days after my encounter with Matthew I drove to Duxbury, MA to begin my first three day Deacons-in-training retreat. Such retreats (on the third weekend of the month) will become a regular part of my life from September to June. Usually the retreats will be held at Bethany House (Sisters of St. Anne) in Arlington Heights. But this first one was scheduled for a retreat house operated by the Sisters of St. Margaret, another Episcopal order of nuns in the diocese. It was wonderful to be near the ocean and it was great to be able to spend time with the other six new Postulants to the Deaconate and two other Postulants who had started a few years ago.

These retreats are time for socializing, prayer, teaching/learning, and practicing the liturgical role of a Deacon. It is time spent in community where our call to be a Deacon continues to be discerned and we continue to be formed in our ministry.

For the Saturday session, the Rev. Anne Fowler from St. John’s in Jamaica Plain (official chaplain to the Deacons) joined us. Anne led us through a series of guided Bible studies. We reflected on particular passages that she had selected, sharing them with one other person in the group and then, as we were comfortable, with the group as a whole. She asked us to engage with each passage from our own experiences, providing us with a series of probing questions to help us go deeper. I found this to be quite a powerful way of being present to the Spirit and to each other. As I shared my own story and listened to the stories of my colleagues, I realized that each of us had been “marked” by particular life passages and circumstances which, though often quite painful, had “opened” us to the loving power of the Divine. Although the details were very different and personal, in many ways the essence of the experience itself was quite similar. Things had shifted for us and would never be the same. And, we all felt compelled to make a difference as a result.

Each of us, of course, at Baptism is “marked” as a child of God. But I am willing to bet that each of us also has “God-tattoos” acquired from those life experiences that made us realize in some new way that God loves us, no matter what. These are the times when things shifted and would never be the same. Sometimes though we get busy and we forget that we are “marked”–that is why it is important to engage with the Biblical stories and with our story and the stories of those around us. They help us to remember that, in the words of Paul, we live and move and have our very being in a God who loves us. And we must make a difference.

Although I have heard these words of the psalmist many times before (and even sung them in the popular hymn, “This is the Day”), I don’t think that I ever paid much attention to them. The words express a nice sentiment, of course, but that seemed to be all there was. Then, in April, I met an elderly woman whom I shall call Gladys. She taught me the power of this portion of Psalm 118 and every day since I have chosen to awaken each morning saying these words as my morning prayer.

Knowing how speeded up our lives often seem in September after the hot and lazy days of summer and how hard it can be to find extended time to pray, I thought that you might find it helpful to have this quick way to “ground” each day in God.

When I first met Gladys she did not even know that I was there. She was in the intensive care unit of the hospital where I have been volunteering as a chaplain. Hooked up to lots of tubes and beeping monitors, she seemed very small and fragile lying in the bed. I said a brief prayer and left.

The next time I visited ICU, Gladys was still there but this time she was awake. Because she was still hooked up to lots of tubes, I was a bit hesitant in entering her room because I did not know how conscious she was. But as I stepped closer, before even introducing myself, Gladys smiled at me. Now, more at ease, I told her who I was and asked her if she had any religious affiliation. She nodded and whispered, “Episcopalian” and I replied, “me, too.” She then added that she had not been able to attend church services for quite some time due to her infirm condition. This clearly made her sad but her pastor and others in the church visited and she remained connected to her spiritual community. We talked a bit about her current medical condition which was quite serious.

Towards the end of our conversation, seeing that she was getting tired and in quite a bit of pain, I asked Gladys if she wanted me to pray with her before I left. She nodded and, before I could say anything else, she proclaimed quite loudly, “This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” It was certainly a bit surprising to hear these words from a patient in intensive care and it caused a few nurses to stop and look into the room, puzzled. I motioned them away and turned back to Gladys. I think that she knew that I was curious and she told me that she recited this portion of Psalm 118 every morning in order to dedicate the actions of her day to God. It was her “habit,” she said. She told me that it was important to have such “habits,” because it was all too easy to get caught up in busyness and, yes, sadness, too, at all the troubles in our lives and, as a result, neglect to celebrate each new day of the Lord’s creation. We talked a bit longer and finally concluded our visit with the Lord’s Prayer (which Gladys also prays every day). As I left the ICU that day, I reflected on my experience with Gladys and gave thanks for the gift of our encounter.

The next morning, as I stretched myself awake and looked out at the morning sunrise, I found myself spontaneously praying, “This is the day that the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” I started to laugh at how right it seemed and said it again, this time with a bit more gusto. And every day since that is how I have begun my day. Some mornings I may hesitate a bit, especially when I am feeling worried or concerned about something or someone, but, as Gladys predicted, psalm 118:24 has become a “habit” and, so, I pray the words of rejoicing and gladness. My spirit lightens and I move into the day, a blessed day. Sometimes I even find myself repeating the psalm phrase silently while driving in my car or waiting in line or just walking down the street. It has made a real difference in the way that I pay attention each day.

OK, this sounds simple and easy, right? Perhaps you might consider giving it a try yourself this September. There may be other verses from the psalms besides 118:24 or other biblical passages that are especially meaningful to you. Choose something that is easy to remember and that makes your heart sing. Make it your spiritual “habit” and a tangible reminder of God’s daily loving presence in your life. Let me know what happens.

Eternal Spirit,
Earth-maker, Pain bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:
The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world!
With the bread we need for today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us. Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth! In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.
For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever.
Amen.

Week Two, with Karen King, March 12: Martyrdom in the early Church
Its historical context, and a look at some of the writings of and about the earliest Christian martyrs. What does it mean for us now to embrace a faith whose creed and biblical canon was shaped by and fixed during a time of violence, and the possibility of martyrdom.

Week Three, with Karen King, March 19: Resurrection Faith
How do Jews, Christians and Muslims talk about resurrection? Karen will have recently returned from a seminar in Jerusalem in which Jews, Christians and Muslims, themselves living with the ever-present threat of violence, religiously approach life and death.

Week Four, March 26: The Holy Week Story
Who are the many characters in the events of the Holy Week and how did their choices reflect their best effort to be faithful to God and to one another in a time of crisis?

Week Five, April 2: Wrap Up
What are we prepared to say about Jesus’ choices in his ministry and especially during Holy Week? Which of those choices are we called to imitate? What does it mean for us, in 21st century America, to “take up our cross” and follow?

We will meet each week from 7:30-9:00. Child care will be provided.

I once spent a summer day at the mountain home of a well-known literary woman and editor.  She lamented the absence of birds about her house. I named a half-dozen or more I had heard or seen in her trees within an hour -

the indigo-bird, the purple finch,

the yellowbird, the veery thrush,

the red-eyed vireo, the song sparrow.

‘Do you mean to say you have seen or heard all those birds while sitting here on my porch?” she inquired.

“I really have,” I said.

“I do not see them or hear them,” she replied, “and yet I want to very much.”

“No,” said I; “you only want to want to see and hear them. You must have the bird in your heart before you can find it in the bush.

From “The Art of Seeing Things” by John Burroughs.