Nov. 23 Pastoral letter from Bishop Haynes: Lighting a candle in a world of darkness

Once again, our world has been plunged into darkness. Last night, as shoppers gathered supplies for upcoming Thanksgiving festivities in Chesapeake, VA, a person entered the store and shot six of his former fellow employees before turning the gun on himself and taking his own life. The aftermath of such violence is dark and full of anguish. Our pained cries and laments rise up. We need to see you, God! As the Psalmist cries, so do we: "Lift up the light of your countenance upon us, O Lord." (Psalm 4:6) We need to see you. 

This Sunday marks the first Sunday of Advent, the Sunday when we light the first candle on our Advent wreaths. As we do so, let us light this candle as an act of defiance against the darkness which falls around us. The Prophet Jeremiah reminds us that weapons of war and violence will be transformed into implements of creativity and growth. The Apostle Paul exhorts us to lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light – the Lord Jesus Christ himself. Jesus tells us that He is coming again and will crash in unexpectedly on our darkness. As we light our Advent candle this Sunday, we are turning on the light in the world; that light is stronger than the dark and will overpower it.

Our Baptismal Promises also call us to action. We are called to prayer, we are called to resist evil, we are called to proclaim Jesus, we are called to seek justice and to respect all humanity. This call to action will look different for different people, and all authentic action born of prayer and devotion to God is needed. Say your prayers and get to work.  

As you light your Advent candle against the darkness this Sunday, remember especially in your prayers the City of Chesapeake and the people there. Pray that God would empower the churches there (St. Bride's and St. Thomas) to be the light and hope of Christ in the face of violence. Pray for the Norfolk and Suffolk convocations (The Very Rev. Stewart Tabb and the Very Rev. Dr. Keith Emerson, Deans) that they will be empowered to be beacons of hope in the face of chaos. Pray that God would empower us all to face this darkness with the light of Christ. 

O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

St. Andrew's approaching a crossroads

 

Dear friends,

As you may know, I have a terrible sense of direction.  (Just ask John Herbst!)  So when I drive, I rely on GPS to get me where I need to go.  An especially helpful feature of my GPS is a picture showing me which lane to be in when I am approaching a big intersection.  I may know my ultimate destination, but I need guidance through the major crossroads I encounter on the way there.
 
We at St. Andrew’s are approaching a major crossroads.  As you’ll hear at our December 4 congregational meeting, we cannot continue down the road we’ve been following.  Our current path in relation to facility utilization and expenses is not sustainable.  So we have big decisions to make in 2023 about how to navigate the crossroads at which we are arriving.  We need to make those decisions in light of our ultimate destination:  creating a strong foundation for the next 100 years of life and ministry at St. Andrew’s.  
 
Note that a foundation is not the same as a completed building.  We do not and cannot know exactly what will be needed decades from now, and the people who come after us in this place will have many of their own decisions to make about how best to follow God’s call in their own time.  So the questions we will be dealing with in the weeks and months to come are these:  What kind of foundation do we want to lay, with God’s help, for the future of this parish?  How can we be intentional about laying that foundation?  How can the many resources currently at our disposal, especially our facilities, help us to lay that foundation?  And how will the foundation we lay for the future be different from what we are currently doing?
 
Notice my repeated use of the word “we.”  Through God’s grace and by God’s calling, we are in this together, with the Holy Spirit as our GPS (God’s positioning system?).  The crossroads is nearing.  I look forward to navigating it with you, trusting in the Spirit who at this very moment is recalculating on our behalf.  See you at the meeting on Dec. 4th!
 
Blessings. -Anne

Waiting

 Slowly, she celebrated the sacrament of letting go.

First she surrendered her green,

Then the orange, yellow, and red,

Finally she let go of her brown.

Shedding her last leaf, she stood empty and silent.

She stood in silence and celebrated

The sacrament of waiting.

– excerpts from “The Sacrament of Letting Go,” by Macrina Wiederkehr

 

It’s probably a common, human, trap to fall into: we define “waiting” in terms of anticipating something in particular. In daily life we wait for the bus, wait in line at the grocery store, or wait for that repair person to show up. Some of us are waiting for marriage, for the right person to come along. Almost always, we have a specific event in mind that will be the culmination of our waiting.

But what if waiting is not always something to be endured but something sacred in itself? Earlier this Fall an old friend sent me a copy of the poem excerpted above, The Sacrament of Letting Go (I commend the whole poem to you, which you can find online). This Fall has been a season of transitions for me: starting a new job, new daycares, new routines. As I read through this poem I wonder, is there something beautiful in the understandable anxiety of leaving a toddler with an, albeit trusted, stranger? Is there something sacred in starting a new job, in that period where trust and vision are still in their early stages?

Advent is itself a season of waiting, and we are invited to remember that waiting is itself necessary and sacred. As we wait for the Christ child, the church invites you into the sacrament of waiting. Even if you feel you have shed your last leaf, you are not alone. A tree without leaves is not a void needing to be filled. We know that life exists in that tree even when we cannot see it. The same is true for individuals and communities. As we wait for the Christ Child this Advent, we can rest in the assurance not only that the Christ Child will come, but that each day we wait is itself something to be savored.

Ginny Chilton

 

Source of All Healing

Kathy Gray attended the Tri-Diocesan Fall Camp at Shrine Mont in October. One of the presenters was author and teacher Angier Brock who wrote and used this prayer as part of her presentation on Writing and Spirituality. Kathy shares this with you to pray daily as we approach Advent.

At your word, the heat of a fever fled.
Now bid me rise and breathe an easy breath.
You shielded a sinner caught in flame.
I too have sinned.  Come, heal my shame.
 
Source of all healing, come by this place,
Bring your compassion and grace.
Source of all healing, before you I bow,
Come, Holy Jesus, abide with me now.
 
You ordered unclean spirits to flee.
From all that would bind me, I pray, set me free.
You opened deaf ears.  To the blind, you gave sight.
You made the lame stand and the bent stand upright.
 
Source of all healing, come by this place,
Bring your compassion and grace.
Source of all healing, before you I bow,
Come, Holy Jesus, abide with me now.
 
When lepers cried out, you made each one whole.
Hear now my cry – cleanse my body and soul.
At your command, rough seas grew calm.
So be to my anxious heart a balm.
 
Source of all healing, come by this place,
Bring your compassion and grace.
Source of all healing, before you I bow,
Come, Holy Jesus, abide with me now.

(copyright Angier Brock)

Veterans Day

 There is a time for everything...a time for everything that is done on earth.
There is a time to be born and there is a time to die.
There is a time to plant and a time to pull up what is planted.
There is a time to kill and a time to heal.
There is a time to tear down and a time to build up.
There is a time to cry and a time to laugh.
There is a time to be sad and a time to dance.
There is a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them.
There is a time to hug and a time not to hug.
There is a time to search and a time to stop searching.
There is a time to keep and a time to throw away.
There is a time to tear and a time to mend.
There is a time to be silent and a time to speak.
There is a time to love and a time to hate.
There is a time for war and a time for peace.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

World War I: more than 500,000 horses and mules were sent to England and other countries out of Newport News; and over 500,000 men returned to Newport News and were honored to walk through our Victory Arch.  I can’t speak for them.
 
I can’t speak for those who, in World War II, went to Europe, maybe to brave the beaches at Normandy, or to the Pacific Theater to brave the untold fear of the islands.
 
I can’t speak for those who went, and may be still going, to Korea, or to the Middle East, or to Afghanistan.
 
I can only speak of having gone to a small country where, just as when Christ was born in the Holy Land, a war was being fought.  Almost 2,000 years later, it was a land of airstrips, jeeps, tar paper houses with tin roofs held down by old tires, motorbikes, black silk pajamas, water buffalo, sandbags, straw hats, green and camouflaged fatigues, trash, mountains, land mines, and thousands and thousands of miles of barbed wire.
 
Veterans in all wars:
have endeavored to plant the seeds of democracy and peace,
have made many efforts to rebuild what was destroyed,
have cried and laughed with each other,
have hugged and gathered to remember, as we do today,
have kept their thoughts and maybe relics from their past, often finding it difficult to throw away those thoughts and relics,
have been silent and have spoken out,
have tried to turn hate into love,
and have hoped that war will be replaced with peace.
 
May we all plant joy; support those who are downhearted; dance, hug, and even cry together; speak from our hearts, and hopefully, one day be able to replace hate and war with love and peace.   Amen.
 
Bill Wilds