A ministry of presence

 “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  --  Luke 14: 11

 The ministry of St. Andrew’s with children, youth, and families exists to ________ so that __________.

 This was a prompt I was presented with in a recent online continuing education class. I admit it made me a little impatient. I guess, in retrospect, I had come to the webinar looking for easy answers. Instead, I found myself in the midst of a miniature existential crisis with 25 other Zoom participants. The humble shall be exalted, indeed!

 After some deep breaths, I came up with several versions of how I would fill in those blanks, but I would be interested in yours. There are certainly multiple “right” answers.

 As we start this new program year at St. Andrew’s, I’m mindful that we have roughly seven children who have aged out of children’s chapel and are being launched into the larger ministry of the church. They’ll still have some time to meet as a cohort, but more time in worship and ministry alongside adults. How will we continue to form them in their faith, now that their official time in children’s chapel has come to an end? What does it look like in the 21st century to be a church that forms people in faith at all stages of life?

 What forms people in faith, anyways? Is it being surrounded by people with an impeccable knowledge of the Bible? Is it a church family that has a quick answer for every hard question? Turns out we have actual data on this and the answer is a hard “no”. Instead, it is your faith that forms another’s. “Faith is caught, not taught,” is an adage you may have heard that holds true. Think back in your life to a time you noticed someone with unquenchable joy or ease and you thought to yourself, “I want that.” In that person’s demeanor they telegraphed, “Come and see,” and you did. Oftentimes it comes from a person who isn’t larger-than-life or otherwise gregarious and magnanimous… just a regular person trying to figure out life, with enough humility to invite God to work through them. Perhaps it was someone who was willing to be vulnerable in a way that broke open something inside yourself, or someone who saw you in a way you had been longing to be seen. Perhaps one of these simple, humble interactions is what gets your butt in the pew every Sunday even to this day.

 That’s what we’re trying to share with the children and youth at St. Andrew’s. It’s huge but simple at the same time. A ministry of presence, not answers.  A demonstration of faith, not perfection. A willingness to let God’s love flow through you, that it might reach another.

 We don’t know what the next 50 years of Christianity is going to look like. If the children who come through St. Andrew’s know how to talk to God and how to see God at work in the world (and join in!) then maybe we’ve definitely done something right.

 - Ginny Chilton, Supervisor of Children's & Youth Ministry

Prophets of a Future Not Our Own

 Dear friends,

 All of the lessons this past Sunday, August 10, addressed the issue of faith—especially what it is and how to hold onto it in times of disappointment or despair.  As encouragement to Christians whose hope was flagging (Christ had not yet come again; they were being persecuted), the author of Hebrews produced a list of famous Old Testament characters who showed faith even when times were hard.  The writer stresses that one component of faith is having hope for God’s promises to be fulfilled in the future:  All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them…  (Hebrews 11:13).

Pondering and praying about Sunday’s readings, I was reminded of a prayer I love that is often attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero but was actually written by an American Bishop, Ken Untener, in 1979:

Prophets of a Future Not Our Own

It helps, now and then,
to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
 it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime
only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise
that is God's work.

Nothing we do is complete,
 which is a way of
saying that the Kingdom
always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,

knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces
 far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything,
and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning,
a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter
 and do the rest.

We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers,
not master builders;
ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future
not our own.

Friends, keep the faith.  Every blessing.  -Anne

Which wolf wins?

 I like to eat pretty much everything - except olives and brussels sprouts!  What you feed yourself can be healthy or unhealthy - fruits and vegetables or lots and lots of sugar.  Same for your mind: tv, video games...  Know what else you can feed?  Your heart.  That determines a lot in how your treat people: you can be mean and hurtful or be kind and loving.  It depends on what you feed yourself - body, mind, and heart.

The story I told stemming from the gospel on the first Sunday of this month in which Jesus sent his disciples into the world "like sheep in the midst of wolves" seems like it might be worth repeating, given the current state of our world right now. It goes like this:

 

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life.  “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.  One wolf is evil - he is anger, sorrow, greed, arrogance, guilt, and lies.  The other wolf is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, kindness, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.  The same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too.”  The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf wins?”  The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

 

You can feed your body, mind, and heart healthy or unhealthy things and that determines how you treat people.  Like a snarling wolf, you can feed yourself unhealthy things like anger and hurtfulness or like a Christlike lamb (or a good wolf) you can feed yourself kindness and love.  It all depends on which one you feed.

The Rev. Marc Vance

Associate Rector

Our Good Samaritan Story

Our gospel reading last Sunday included the parable of the Good Samaritan. Here, Bernard and Debbie Young share their own Good Samaritan story.

Debbie and I owned a brownstone house in Stuyvesant Heights, Brooklyn, New York. Our tenants skipped out on us, without notice and without paying their rent. They had wrecked the house. We decided to sell it. Our realtor told us that there were rats in the cellar. We engaged a firm to take care of the problem.
 
On Thursday February 20, 2020, we met an exterminator at the house. He told us that we needed to get garbage bags. We decided to walk the two short blocks to what was a ‘commercial’ street. As soon as we made it to that very busy, heavily trafficked street, Debbie slipped and went face down on the sidewalk. I got down to help her. As she raised her head, she kept saying that she could not see. Folk just passed us by. No one offered, or stopped, to help us for nearly five minutes. I just knelt and held her as she kept saying that she could not see. Then I heard a voice saying that I should call 911. I tried then to get her up on her feet as the same voice said “ let me help you to get her up.” Two arms joined mine and we got her up. She kept holding me, still telling me that she couldn’t see. I wanted to get her to a place where I could maybe sit her down while I called 911. We were close to a ‘Church’s Fried Chicken’ shop, so the person helping me suggested that we could find a seat in there. We got her in and sat her down. The same voice asked what could he do and I said ‘get her something sugary to drink, Sprite or orange soda.’ I pulled out my cell phone, punched in 911 and gave some information to the dispatcher. When I finished talking, I saw a guy holding a can of soda and a bottle of water, with straws in them; he was holding them to her lips telling her to take sips. Just then I heard a man’s loud voice shouting and cursing, ‘you homeless piece of ….. get out of my store.’ It was then that I looked at the person who had been helping me. His attire and his appearance made me realize that he was a homeless man; he was Hispanic and in his late twenties. I got angry; this homeless guy was the only person who had not passed us by, he had paid for the soda and the water, his money had been accepted and now he was being’ thrown out.’ The paramedics arrived, keeping me from using a few choice words. I am not certain how long the guy stood around but as I was dealing with the paramedics, he slipped away. I never got to thank him or to repay him what he had spent but, as Debbie was being put into the ambulance, one of the paramedics mentioned to me that ‘that homeless guy had walked off with my soda and my water’. I quickly told him that that homeless guy had purchased them and they were his, not mine.
 
We went to a neighboring hospital, and Debbie's sight slowly returned before we got there. I happened to have been on the hospital board, but we signed her out and subsequently had her admitted to the hospital in Manhattan where she had worked, overseen by the doctors for whom she had worked. She had surgery on February 24, 2020. She had fractured the orbital lobe under her right eye; she has a titanium plate under that eye. That side of her face is still quite numb.
 
Many people passed us by that day; only a guy who lived in the streets and had no place to lay his head, stopped to help and even spent what little money he had. I pray for him regularly. Wherever he is, May God bless him, provide for him and keep him safe.

The Ven. Rev. Canon Bernard O.D. Young

Sacred Ground

I was walking my children home on the last day of school, feeling more than the usual, confusing mix of gratitude and grief that comes at the end of each school year. We were headed home down River Rd when I was filled with an overwhelming sense of God’s presence. Time froze and I saw my oldest in this exact spot (pictured above) as 9 years old, 4 years old, 2 years old, all at once. That same tuft of curly blond hair. The same gait. The same sidewalks we’ve walked almost daily for ten years. There must be hundreds of holy spots along these sidewalks, unseen monuments to the sacred moments between parents and children, friends and strangers, neighbors and guests.

It got me thinking about the nature of sacred space and how, in Jesus’s time as well as ours, we often identify sacred space only within a church or other house of worship. When, really, it’s public spaces—perhaps even more than private ones—that hold that sacred quality. In this Sunday’s Gospel, which opens on a conversation between Jesus and an expert in the law, Jesus tells the Parable of the Good Samaritan as a way of overturning expectations, by pointing to holiness and righteousness from a race of people his friend least expects.

This is your invitation to notice what is holy wherever you find yourself this week, perhaps especially from the places or people you least expect. For those who are listening, God makes His presence abundantly, and beautifully, clear.

Ginny Chilton, Supervisor of Children's & Youth Ministries and Minister of Music