Christmas message from Anne

 Dear friends,

As you may know, I am a big fan of the comics section of the newspaper.  Recently the Family Circus strip showed the Dad stringing Christmas lights outdoors as little Billy says to him, “Christmas lights up the world, doesn’t it, Daddy?”  Indeed it does.
 
‘Tis the season for Christmas lights, twinkling and brightening houses and neighborhoods. They make me smile when I drive anywhere on a cold, dark evening. But the way that Christmas lights up the world isn’t really about bright holiday bulbs. It’s about the Son of God coming into our world to be with us, taking on flesh to dwell among us—even and especially in the darkest places of our lives and of the world. As we hear in the prologue to the Gospel of John, What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
 
Jesus was born in a dark time, the child of poor parents unable to find lodging in the midst of their long and uncomfortable journey to meet the stringent tax regulations of their oppressor, the Roman Empire. That first Christmas had no cheery flashing lights and tinsel-covered trees; no candy canes or reindeer, no eggnog or fancily wrapped gifts. It had none of the trappings that we tend to associate with Christmas. They weren’t needed.  What makes Christmas Christmas is the simple, stunning birth of the baby Jesus, God incarnate and man divine, the light of the world then and now and always. 
 
I look forward to celebrating with you the coming of the light of the world; and I very much hope that you will take part in one or more of our upcoming Christmas services:

• Christmas Eve Family Service, December 24 at 3:00 PM with Children’s Pageant, Children’s Homily, and Candle-lighting
• Christmas Eve Festive Eucharist, December 24 at 8:30 PM with Special Music and Candle-lighting. (Christmas music by the choir and bellringers will begin at 8:00 AM)
• Christmas Day Eucharist, December 25 at 10:30 AM
• Service of Lessons and Carols, Sunday, December 29 at 10:30 AM

As is customary here at St. Andrew’s, there will be a special Christmas offering again this year. Christmas offering envelopes will be available in the church beginning this Sunday. You may also give online by clicking here.
 
Friends, in the coming days I pray that you will indeed experience the way that Christ’s birth lights up the world, even the darkest corners.  May you never forget that the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not, cannot, and will not overcome it.
 
Blessings of light and life to each of you.  –Anne

Love them anyway

The last Sunday of Pentecost, what we call Christ the King Sunday, always seems like a juxtaposition because it is the Sunday before we begin the Church’s new year, the holy preparatory season of Advent, and yet, depending on the year, the Gospel reading is about Jesus hanging on the cross or preparing for that.  The bottom line is that the cross would not be possible without the incarnation and the incarnation would have been pointless (or nearly so), if not for the cross.  Both - the incarnation and the cross - are momentous signs of God’s immeasurable redemptive love for God’s creation.

As we read in the first chapter of John’s Gospel, In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the word was God…and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.  And continuing in the third chapter of John’s Gospel: God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son to the end that all who believe in him should not perish but have ever lasting life.  Despite the fickleness of humanity toward God and God’s creation, despite all that they did to Jesus, through it all, God loved (and loves) us anyway.

As we continue through this blessed season of our Lord’s nativity, contemplating the things of this world that necessitate Jesus’ sacrifice and our own fears and complicities and insults we endure, it may be helpful to be reminded of the Paradoxical Commandments by Kent Keith (often attributed to Mother Teresa):

People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you win false friends and true enemies.
Be successful anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spent years building may be destroyed overnight.

Build anyway.

People need help but may attack you if you help them.

Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.

Give the world the best you've got anyway.

Any way you look at it, the bottom line is the same: Whatever people may do, love them anyway.

- Marc Vance

 

 

Prepare the way of the Lord

The woods and every fragrant tree have shaded Israel at God’s command.—Baruch 5:8

In The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, the tree is the symbol of love.  The tree gives her leaves to the Boy she loved to make a crown, her apples so that the Boy could make money, her branches so that the Boy could build a house, her trunk so that the Boy could build a boat, and her stump so that the older Boy could sit and rest.
 
God gave his Son as his symbol of love to the world.  Jesus was the tree and we are the branches.  We can rest in his arms whenever the need arises.  Jesus would end his life nailed to a tree, that was made into a cross, and wearing a crown of thorns so that, following his death and resurrection, we would have life everlasting. Trees don’t live forever, but through the miracle of nature they are reborn.  During this season of Advent, we are preparing for the birth of the Christ Child.  Many of us have or soon will have a tree in our homes – a symbol of the season.  We will adorn its branches.  We will place gifts for loved ones and friends under those branches.  We will enjoy the joys of the holidays. 
 
Some us will participate in the Angel Tree for students at Sedgefield Elementary School – selecting “angels” from the branches of the tree, buying and wrapping gifts, and placing them under the tree’s branches to share joy with others.
 
But…let us also remember the giving tree and the gift of God, our Father, as we prepare our hearts for the coming of the baby Jesus and for the expectations of a happy holiday season.  The tree gave all that she had to give so that the Boy could have the necessities of life.  God gave his Son so that we might have life everlasting.  May we, as our time, gifts, and talents allow, remember others throughout this time of reflection.
 
Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.  Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.—Luke 3:4b-6
 
- Bill Wilds

The Power of Presence

The past two weeks haven’t been the happiest or the most hopeful for me, so I’ve been trying more than usual to attune myself to God’s presence in my everyday life. Sometimes I get caught up in feeling like I’m just one small, insignificant person. What difference can one person make?

As I tuned my heart and mind toward the present moment this week, I found myself thinking more and more about the power of presence. I’ve been feeling it lately as I mourn the loss of Becki Shamblen. I didn’t realize how much I had come to anticipate seeing Becki several times a week around church. I got used to the sound of her footsteps back and forth from the sacristy, as I sat working alone in my office. I got used to bumping into her in the nave on a weekday and exchanging a few words. Would Becki have considered me a close friend? No, and that’s okay. But her loyalty to the altar guild, as well as several other ministries, became a source of encouragement for me. Her devotion to her faith strengthened mine.

I remember I felt it at the beginning of this year, too, after Bill Wilds retired. Bill used to appear in my office doorway, and not always because we had church business to take care of. Did Bill and I ever solve world peace in our workday conversations? No. But the joy he took in his service made me more joyful in doing mine.

Recently a neighbor of mine was going through a difficult time and sought my support. This is someone I see often but do not have a close relationship with. Somehow, though, in our short interactions, I became known to her as someone who was grounded in faith and someone she could trust. Apparently, just by just being myself, I had been a source of strength for someone without knowing it. The power of presence.

As we head into Advent in a couple weeks, we’ll all be able to ponder the power of presence: Immanuel, which means “God with us”. God came to earth as a baby. Babies are inherently helpless. What can a baby possibly do for a hurting, divided, violent world? As we celebrate Christmas and hear the stories of the groups of people who came to visit Jesus, we are reminded what it all started with: simply being there. The power of presence.

- Ginny Chilton

 

Altar Guild and Flower Guild seeking new members

Altar Guilds, as known to the Episcopal Church, did not become a formalized body until the nineteenth century. The history of its development goes back to the time of the apostles. In the early days of the Church, followers of Christ gathered in private homes to break bread together and to share their memories of Him. Presumably, the head of the household provided whatever was required for the meal. As the Christian population increased substantially, larger buildings in which to meet were required. Certain people were given the ministry of caring for these places, the worshipers themselves providing the food for the meal. Food was also being set aside to take to those in more remote areas and circumstances which did not allow them to be part of corporate worship, for example the shut ins and the poor. By the fourth century, parish ministry had been generally established, and for hundreds of years to follow the ordained clergy referred to as sacristans were responsible for maintaining all the paraphernalia of worship, for preparing for the services, and for doing the Church housekeeping as well.             

In the Church of England, beginning in the sixteenth century, altar care was also the task of ordained clergy such as the sacristan and the verger, who was not ordained, in the cathedral and the cleric in the parish. Years later, laymen became the sacristans and eventually, in the nineteenth century, women were included in this ministry as assistants to sacristans. By the turn of the twentieth century, women were beginning to organize into Altar Guilds, and in most parts of the United States they assumed the sacristan’s duties themselves. Until the 1970s this channel was the only one through which they could serve God at the altar. Now, however, men are taking part in increasing numbers, as once again the decoration of the Church and preparation for worship is becoming a joint ministry of all the baptized. [Reference: “The Altar Guild Handbook – The Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd,” Venice, Florida]

A "flower guild" is not a historical guild in the traditional sense of medieval Europe, but rather a modern concept primarily found within churches, where a group of volunteers, often called a "Flower Guild," dedicate themselves to arranging flowers for religious services, with roots in the long-standing practice of using flowers for decoration in worship spaces, particularly during special occasions like Christmas and Easter.   Guilds gained more prominence in recent centuries as flower arranging became a more recognized art form, with individuals forming dedicated groups to manage this aspect of church decor within their parishes.  The main purpose of a flower guild is to create and maintain floral arrangements for church services, altars, and special events, adding beauty and symbolism to the worship space.   Members of a flower guild are typically volunteers who contribute their time and skills to arrange flowers, on a rotating basis.   Just like the Altar Guild, the Flower guild can also serve as a way for church members to connect and participate in the beautification of their worship space as they come together in planning, arranging, and sharing fellowship with each other.

The Altar Guild serves the Church under the direction of the Rector.   As an Altar Guild member, it is an honor to be in the sanctuary and prepare the altar for the Lord’s Table.  The ministry of the Altar Guild is to:

• Prepare for the worship services of the parish as directed by the clergy

• Provide for suitable furnishings for the altar and other liturgical appointments and to take due and reverent care of them

• Care for the vestments of the clergy and other ministers

• Keep the area around the altar swept

• Protect and reverently provide for the consecrated elements of the Eucharist

• Check silver for fingerprints and polish when needed

• Dust pews and put books in order.

Those joining our Altar Guild will be receive hands-on instruction from experienced Altar Guild members. You will be a member of a regularly rotating group responsible for the complete set up and take down of the altar for your assigned service, meeting before Sunday to prepare for Sunday services and then immediately following each Sunday service.  You will be assigned to one of four teams who will each serve three months during the year.  Being on the Altar Guild is a labor of love; but it is also a time of fellowship and joy.

With the recent death of Becki Shamblen and those who have served for many years (decades for some) feeling the need to step down, our Altar Guild is at a crossroads.  As we begin the process of reorganizing, we are truly in need of new members.   If you are interested in joining one of our teams, or if you would just like more information about being an Altar Guild member, please contact Diana Skelton (757-897-7395).

If you enjoy working with flower and would be willing to share your creative talents on one of our flower guild teams, or if you want to learn more about flower arranging, please contact BoBo Smith (757-927-7453).

Pay attention to the period

 It’s been said that a preacher really only has one sermon.  Assuming that to be the case, one way or the other, to some greater or lesser degree, mine I think typically has a threefold basis:

1. The word “gospel” literally translates as “good news”.  If it’s not good news (say it with me, now)...it’s not gospel!  I know of no one who takes being made afraid or shamed or dehumanized as good news, so if that’s what you hear coming out of pulpits and radio speakers, I don’t know what is being preached, but I do know it is not the gospel!
2. The single most important word in the Christian faith is “love” (lots of scripture to back that up).
3. The basis of every single atrocity across human history - the institution of chattel slavery, Native American genocide, the European holocaust, on and on - is dehumanization, the failure or even refusal to see the image of God in another person, thus devaluing, thus making it much easier to exploit and harm or worse.

So, you cannot dehumanize someone and claim Christlike love at the same time.  Those two things are incompatible, mutually exclusive.
 
The single most important word in the Christian faith is love, based in the self-sacrificing love of Jesus on the cross, God’s love more powerful even than death.  That is our singular job, underlying all else that we do.  Notice that there is a period at the end of that sentence.  There is nothing that follows, no love if...  Just love, period.  No idolatrous judgmentalism (idolatrous because anything put in God’s place is an idol, including our own willingness to usurp God’s place by making a judgement about another person’s value.)  Just love, period.  No dehumanizing another by presuming to decide for another person who they understand themselves to be.  Just love, period.  No devaluing another person (who is also made in the image of God no less than anyone else) because they don’t look like what you see - gender, skin tone, ethnicity, etc. - when you look in the mirror.  Just love, period.
 
Anne mentioned in a sermon on Oct 27 the unprecedented level of “unadulterated hatred” and “life-sapping vitriol” that we too often experience in our culture.  Point to all the reasons you want, but that doesn’t change our singular purpose.  In fact, that only heightens the urgency for the way those who would claim to follow Jesus should respond: love, period.  There’s an awful lot of love if out there, as if love is qualified somehow, as if there is something that follows the period at the end of that sentence, but that is not our way.  Our way is love, period.  Maybe (but not maybe!) we should make sure we pay attention to that period.
 
- Marc Vance

Looking for a home...

 Last week, Anne, Marc, Carol and I all attended the clergy conference at Chanco. The teaching part was presented by two pastors who had written a book, De-churching the Church, that explored the reasons why people, former church-goers, had stopped going to church. We could go off on all of the social, theological, and political issues of a quarter century, but predominantly it came down to one reason: they had moved to a new place.

Now I know about moving to a new place, both as a child in a military family, and now in my dotage. When we moved here in the summer of 1955, I had lived in eight places in 10 years, and gone to five different schools. I vividly remember coming to St. Andrew's for the first time, walking with my mother over boards resting on the dismantled floor of the duplex that had been the entrance to the parish house, to be registered for Sunday school. They were building what is now the lobby and what became the day school library (now the Senior Lounge). Miss Mabry, parish secretary, sat at her desk. The young Miss Humphreys who led Christian education, Junior Choir, Junior Altar Guild, and Girl Scout Troop 45, was bustling about. And Mr. Burke, the rector of one year, was still listening to stories about the wisdom of the previous rector, as Episcopalians do as new rector orientation for about five to 10 years. For the rest of my elementary days at Hilton School, I spent at least three afternoons a week involved in those offerings for children, as well as confirmation classes and confirmation on December 21, 1958. 

After three years here, my father took us first to Jackson, Michigan, and a year later to Birmingham, Michigan, where he was working on the Enrico Fermi project, and in those two parishes I was unable to find my place and became a truant middle schooler. My parents were not church goers, but senders, and that seemed to make a difference, unlike at St. Andrew's.

We moved back here in 1960, where I finished high school.

Those years were spent in Sunday school, EYC, and attending the dances held in the parish hall basement after football games, pancake suppers, and some very nice dinners the mothers of the church had for the EYC.

After college and two years in Suffolk, VA, my husband accepted a teaching and coaching position at Warwick High School and I was back again. I got involved with teaching Sunday school, being supportive of the EYC, and served on a couple of committees, and probably was too opinionated in adult forums.

Later, as a single parent with three children, I enjoyed and was grateful to this parish for walking with me and caring about and nurturing my children.

My point in this travelogue is to tell you that this parish has met me at every stage and every intersection in my life. It has offered friendship, wise counsel, and some forbearance as I navigated many changes over a 70-year period, as I came and went, wherever my father's job took us, wherever I wandered and whatever befell me, trauma or grace, good time and hard times. 

The question raised by De-churching the Churched is what will it take to get people to come back. The answer was to invite them, offer warmth and friendship, fellowship and path that will help them feel closer to God and to one another, whether it's a place in the choir for a 10-year old who can't carry a tune, fellowship to a teenager who is so exhausted from moving that she is at risk in lots of ways, friendship to a young divorced mother with three children with no nearby family who is trying to re-build her life, or an older woman trying to figure out what God calls her to do, to become, to offer the world. 

You've got this St. Andrew's. Continue to do what you do, and this world will indeed be a better place. 

- Kathy Gray

"This is how church used to be!"

If we had a dollar for each time one of us has heard this phrase, we’d all be rich by now, right? I had to submit my budget last week, in order for the vestry to review it well before the start of 2025. I approached the task the same way I have for the past 20 (has it been 20??) years working at churches. Step one: identify the bare minimum needed for the music program. Step two: attach dollar signs. Step three: get a pat on the back for doing my best to identify the bare minimum. (Okay, step three doesn’t always happen but that’s what I imagine.)

Certainly, there is value to being frugal. It’s part of our care of creation, i.e. let’s not buy more and more stuff to eventually fill our landfills! It’s part of our stewardship of church resources,

i.e. let’s make the best use of the money all of you have given to this church out of your desire to see St. Andrew’s thrive and be a force for good in our community. As a church staff member, assembling a budget and spending church money has always been a very humbling task.

I found, though, that outlining a bare-minimum budget was also causing me to envision our musical future at the bare minimum. My goal was the status quo. It was a theology of scarcity rather than abundance. But good Christian theology tells us that God’s love is abundant! Good theology tells us there is always room for one more at the table, that there’s no limit to forgiveness or generosity.

After Evensong the evening of October 6th, someone came up to me and said, “Now THAT is how church used to be!” And for once I didn’t hear it as bitter or pessimistic. The church was not full, but everyone was singing their hearts out to the extent that the voices, combined with the organ, filled every crevice of the sanctuary. According to multiple people I spoke with, it was transporting. We felt our bodies literally lift up. Our hearts were so full that tears felt ready to fall. It was a combination of beauty and togetherness that reminded us that God is real. God must be real; he was certainly present at Evensong on October 6th!

That experience is not something you can force, but it is something we can strive for. After Evensong and before I submitted my budget, I added a few big-picture, pie-in-the-sky dreams for us and our worship service. And I made a commitment to pray more often, asking God to help me hold these two seemingly paradoxical ideas equally: that I can be a practical steward of the church’s money and dream big when I think about the future of our church music program. With God’s help, we can do both!

And the church said: Amen!

- Ginny Chilton, Minister of Music

Lifestyle

Here’s another reflection from sabbatical: When something becomes a lifestyle, you don’t stop thinking that way when you’re not doing that thing.  It becomes the way you think in all things.  Here’s what I mean.  Back in a previous life, my crew and I used to paddle open boats (canoes, as opposed to “decked” boats like kayaks - or worse, rubber boats like rafts) on whitewater.  I was class III competent, class IV challenged.  In class III, especially in an open boat, you really should know what you’re doing; in class IV, you had better have some pretty serious skills.  A couple of things whitewater teaches you: 1. Your ego will get you hurt or worse.  You have to be completely honest with yourself about what you can handle and what you can’t.  If you can’t, then portage around the rapid and live to paddle another day.  (The rule was “If you can’t spit, don’t run it!”)  2. No matter what happens, never stop thinking, meaning don’t freeze up if you find yourself heading somewhere you’d rather not be.  Just use your skills and experience to maneuver into a better position and trust the people you’re paddling with.  Once that becomes the norm of your thought process, it generalizes even when you’re off the river.  I’m absolutely sure that’s what kept me out of a wreck when I was about to be sandwiched by two people coming in opposite directions with me between them.  I put my vehicle in the only one-inch margin of error there was between the two and we were all able to drive away unscathed.

That’s the way of it for a life of faith.  It’s like the Lenten disciplines that aren’t only for that short period of time between the end of Epiphany and the beginning of the Easter season.  Ideally, you shouldn’t focus on the Lenten disciplines - self-examination and repentance; prayer, fasting, self-denial; reading and meditating on God’s holy word - only during Lent, like “I’ll do Bible study (or not have martinis) for four weeks or so, but then I’m off the hook for the rest of the year.”  They should be the way of deepening your faith that lasts through the whole year so that whatever it is - deepening faith, compassion, self-giving, grace - becomes a lifestyle, the way you think and pray and act whether it’s Lent or not. 

We have quite a while before Lent begins again (March 5, 2025), but that gives us a lot of time for self-examination, i.e. to be completely honest with ourselves about the degree that faith plays in our actual day-to-day life in work, family, and community, and not just on Sundays.  And if we find ourselves heading somewhere we’d rather not be, rather than letting that taunting voice of doubt keep us frozen in a rut, we can use our skills and experience to maneuver into a better position (i.e. repentance) and trust the people with whom we are all paddling along when the class level gets challenging.  Then it becomes a matter of lifestyle, not just when we’re in church mode, but in all things.
 
- Marc Vance

Beloved Community

Dear friends,

In my late 20s, I joined a parish in Greenfield, Massachusetts.  After arriving, I asked a priest if they had a young adult group, and she said, “No; but you could start one.”  (Clever priest!)  So I sent out a survey:  What ages do you think should be included?  Single folks only or couples, or families with children?  Should our activities be outreach, fellowship, or Bible study? 

To my amusement, when the results came back, people wanted everything.  So I ended up starting The Get-Togethers, a group for folks of all ages that cycled through different kinds of activities so that everyone could participate in whatever most interested them.

Only one survey-taker indicated an interest in Bible study—a young mom a few years older than I was.  We decided to tackle the book of James together.  Every week Lisa would climb the steps to my second-floor apartment with a baby basket in one hand and a Bible in the other.

Since that study, I have always loved the book of James, and I greatly enjoyed our foray through it in September.  During the bishop’s visit we heard James 5:13-20, which begins, Are any among you suffering?  They should pray.  Are any cheerful?  They should sing songs of praise…  James gives practical instruction to the Christian community, telling them how members are to care for one another:  praying for the suffering, rejoicing with the cheerful, anointing the sick, confessing their sins to one another, and forgiving each other.

I thought about this passage while attending a recent diocesan event called Gathering on Sacred Ground.  The conference was offered to help participants think about next steps on the journey of Becoming Beloved Community, our work together to respond to racial injustice.  The keynote speaker, author Canon Stephanie Spellers from the Presiding Bishop’s office, gave a description of beloved community that I want to hang onto:

Beloved Community:

The community where your suffering pains me,

your hope becomes my hope,

and your flourishing makes my heart sing.

The community where I am willing to take risks

and to give up some preference or comfort,

if it means we will all finally become whole.

I think Beloved Community was what James had in mind for the church.  More importantly, I think it’s what Jesus has in mind for the church.  I look forward to continuing our work together to become Beloved Community here at St. Andrew’s and beyond our doors, and I am so grateful that I get to participate in this crucial practice with each of you.

- Blessings.  -Anne

Stewardship

One retired minister offered a stewardship perspective in this way, “The question is not, how much of what is mine do I give to others? The question is, how much of what is God’s do I reserve for myself? The answer we give is a faith issue, a stewardship issue.”

My family believes that God calls us to be stewards of His abundance, and I see it as an opportunity. Shouldn’t we be giving God back some of the time, talents, and treasures He has given us in a spirit of joy? Just as we pay for the foundation in which we live (our home), as well as its “supporting characters” (electric, water, sewage, etc.) that combine to make our house a warm, inviting place, we believe that our pledge to St. Andrew’s supports our church foundation (a 100-year-old building needs a lot of care) and its many, many other supporting characters (overhead, staff, mission, outreach, community), with every belief that the time, talents, and treasures we all bring to the table help ensure St. A’s is seen as a warm, inviting house of worship. 

A quote attributed to Aristotle, “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts” comes to mind here, and I contend that when each of us pledges, we are (1) honoring God’s call for us to be caretakers of all He has entrusted to us and, (2) Although two of the four specific goals for next year’s pledges may first appear miles apart, I feel that maintaining our beautiful, historically rich building and expanding our children’s ministry work hand-in-hand; we want our children to see St. Andrew’s as a safe haven, not just a place to learn about, and serve, a loving and gracious God, but also a SAFE building in every sense of the word.  

We have always faithfully honored our annual pledge, even if that pledge only covers a week of salaries, or necessary maintenance and upkeep repairs that are not “exciting” (like when we must pay a plumber on the weekend—hardly exciting, but necessary). We see St. Andrew’s as our “church home,” and its parishioners become extended family members. When all of us “family members” pledge, it creates what Aristotle said--a combined effect of different elements, which are more valuable, or impactful, than the sum of each of our individual contributions.

It’s a nice thought for me that when I hear the proverb, “it takes a village,” perhaps our collective pledges are doing just that—providing a community of people to support each other, with emphasis on our youth, and ensuring a safe and healthy environment for them to grow in. With St. Andrew’s meeting its stewardship goal, it will be able to do just that, as well as invest in innovative technologies, strengthen our outreach ministries support, and take care of our Centenarian Building that holds so many memories—past, present, and future.

1 Peter 4:10 says, “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”  May we all see this time of stewardship as an opportunity to continue serving a generous and loving God.

- Debi Nicolai

Investing in God's Kingdom

I received my first set of offering envelopes, at the age of 13, during the yearlong confirmation class at Reid Memorial Presbyterian Church in Augusta, Ga. It was thrilling - and a little overwhelming - to be considered grown-up enough to play a part in the church’s overall mission. My banker father, who was serving as an Elder at the time, helped me calculate an accurate tithe based on the weekly allowance I received which was supplemented with periodic babysitting. That same year, singing in the choir, making Chrismons during Advent, visiting shut-ins, and participating in youth group events took on new meaning; I was beginning to understand the value of serving my faith community with my tithe, my time, and my talents.

  At St Andrew’s, Dan and I have found great joy in many ministries, but we are always most impacted by the opportunity to work with our youngest members. In a recent conversation on the playground, we asked the children what happens with the money in the collection plates.  “Charity”, replied Cliff. How wonderful! As we pondered this question together, other answers were shouted out: the playground equipment, the salaries of our priests and staff, the candles at the altar, the lights in the building, the goldfish and juice boxes for Chapel! 

One of our great challenges as Christians is to teach our children that as stewards of God’s church, we are each called to serve with our time, talents and resources. The annual pledge campaign is really a stewardship campaign, a perfect time to reflect on how we can invest in God’s kingdom right here in our community. 

-Karen Waddill

 

The Glories of a Parish Retreat

 

As I was jotting down ideas for this Net Cover focusing on our recent parish retreat, (40 of us at Chanco on the James from Sept 13-15!) I was caught off guard by flashes of memories of myself as a child, attending parish retreats with my own church family. I grew up in South Carolina, so most of those people I no longer see, and I certainly have not set foot at Camp Gravatt since about 1995. But the experiences I had there with my childhood church have undoubtedly shaped me into the person I am today.

 The first strike of deja vu came when we pulled up to our room at Chanco. My children have been to Chanco several times so they immediately jumped out of the car to survey the grounds and confirm that everything was as they left it, just like my friends and I did when we rolled up to our retreat center on Friday evening. I remember the sense of safety and empowerment that came from being able to traverse a place without adults knowing my every move. Whereas “home” in our everyday lives is defined by the property lines, at a retreat center, “home” is a state of mind. “Home” is with fellow parishioners who become extended family; “home” is the retreat center itself, which is owned by all of us and none of us at the same time. As the other children on the St. Andrew’s retreat became familiar with the grounds, they too, delighted in the freedom to move from place to place without fear of getting lost, needing to call ahead, or wait for adult supervision.

 Another special moment I’m stealing from a conversation with Joe Allen the Monday after the retreat. In the dining hall the retreat leaders displayed sign-up sheets where you could volunteer to lead an activity during free time. Joe’s favorite retreat moment was watching the children joyfully rush forward: Edward volunteered to lead a hike at 3:30. Madeline and Rachel scheduled time to collect seashells. Ralph started a poetry-writing group at 4:30. Shiloh and Abigail signed up to be worship leaders at Eucharist. Children saw themselves as leaders, not just participants, in the retreat. They felt safe to take creative risks and be themselves without hesitation.

 One last memory. If you’re familiar with Compline, you’ll know that the words, “Guide waking, O Lord, and guard us sleeping…” are sprinkled throughout the liturgy. When I heard these words Saturday night at Chanco I had a flashback to myself as a child, half-asleep in my dad’s lap, in the twilight after a long day with our church family. In the meals we shared at Chanco, in the nightly compline, there was a structure and a rhythm to life but without the rush. As a child I felt a sense of true peace knowing that, at least for those precious 36 hours, I was surrounded by people who were completely in the moment with me. I’m so grateful that the children on our Chanco retreat were given that gift of presence, too, which is so precious yet so rare.

 God is always calling us to let go of the barriers that separate us from truly knowing one another. On a parish retreat, we arrive as individuals and family units, but leave feeling like we are part of an extended family. We arrive feeling stressed but settle into a routine where busy-ness and productivity are no longer the measure of our worth. We arrive as adults or children, and watch in wonder as the adults become more child-like and the children take on adult roles with joy and confidence.

 In other words, on a parish retreat we get a small taste of what it’s like to live in God’s kingdom. It is God’s constant call to us to build God’s kingdom on earth, brick by brick. Going on retreat reminds us how real God truly is. Once you’ve experienced it, it’s hard not to share it with others. So…

 Chanco 2025, here we come!

- Ginny Chilton

Imago Dei’s Self-Emptying

 Because I couldn’t fit everything about my sabbatical into an hour presentation during the forum on Sept. 1st, one of the things I had to curtail was a mention of the importance of self-emptying as foundational for seeing the image of God (imago Dei) in who and what God created.  I take that from Philippians 2:7 in which Paul notes that Jesus emptied himself on the cross.

Jesus’ example of self-emptying is not the emptiness of clinical depression, which can be devastating, but emptying of the ego, anxiousness, despair, etc.  It is not emptying yourself of your identity, it is emptying yourself of all manner of noise so that you can know and embrace your truest self as it is known in Christ, i.e. who you were created to be.

The most important word in the Christian faith, the greatest commandment, is love.  Sin is separation from God, neighbor, and self; a broken covenant relationship.  Sin creates the conditions for dehumanization, exploitation, and harm.  I have found that, for me at least, following Jesus’ example of self-emptying is the only way to nurture empathy and compassion (co-passion, meaning to suffer with), to be one with who and what God created, thus making it much more difficult to exploit and harm who and what God created.  Self-emptying’s bottom line: If you’re full of yourself, you can’t be full of God’s Light and Spirit.

- Marc Vance

 

The importance of a positive word

 Dear friends,

 
When I taught fifth- and sixth-graders, I developed an exercise that we used periodically when classroom relations weren’t going well.  Each of us, me included, would write one positive sentence about each other person in the classroom.  The sentence would begin with “I like;” “I respect;” or “I admire”:  

• I like the way Sam lets other people share the soccer equipment. 
• I respect the way Sam is always on time. 
• I admire Sam’s ability to draw caricatures. 

The point was that a person didn’t have to like Sam to be able to come up with a genuine and positive statement.  (A true confession:  I didn’t always like all of my students, but with God’s help I could always find something truly positive to celebrate about each of them.)
 
In a recent sermon, I mentioned my dear friend Ted Bailey, who died four years ago at the age of 97.  Ted was a retired Episcopal priest who attended St. George’s, Newport News during my time there as rector.  Ted had served as an interim priest at St. George’s some years prior to my arrival.  He adored the congregation so much that he chose St. George’s as his home parish when he finally retired.
 
Sometimes it can be difficult for a rector to have retired clergy in a congregation, especially when the retired person once served the same parish.  It is understandably tempting for the former leader of a congregation to share abundant suggestions about how best to minister to that flock.  Not infrequently, former clergy also share criticism—comments that are usually couched as helpful input for the new rector (but often don’t feel that way).
 
Ted Bailey never did that.  Part of his ministry with every person he encountered was the gift of encouragement.  He ministered to me every time he attended worship at St. George’s. 
 
After each service, Ted made a point of sharing a specific, positive comment about the day’s worship or forum:  praise for a line in my sermon that particularly struck him; appreciation for the care I put into planning the morning’s adult forum; gratitude for the way I’d spoken some part of the liturgy.  Every time Ted spoke with me, he blessed me with positive words that nurtured my soul.  My sense is that every time Ted Bailey interacted with someone, he saw it as a God-given opportunity for him to offer love and encouragement. 
 
What if I were more like Ted?  What if we all were?  What would it be like to come to St. Andrew’s and find it a place where our comments to one another were consistently words of praise and gratitude and thanks?  I’m not talking about insincere flattery, but about genuinely positive words chosen to build each other up, to help each person feel seen and appreciated.
 
Let’s try it.  And let’s thank God for giving us such precious opportunities!
 
Blessings.  -Anne

September

September has always been an overwhelming month, with start ups, potential hurricanes and being in a new place in my life. Most of my moves have permeated this month, and start ups always follow endings, whether it be the end of summer, or of a life phase.

Having moved to a rural area to be closer to family and to live in a one story house near water, I had expected some semblance of calm and simplicity. From my kitchen window I have a view of generational comings and goings, and I am reminded of my younger years of motherhood segueing into empty nesting and grandparenthood, as this move has been marked by the entrance of a second great grandchild  (Forehand), and the engagement of a grandchild (Margaret to Nash).  A flurry of wedding planning has begun 14 months before the expected wedding on Nantucket.

Since my work in the world involves a lot of companioning people through endings, this is a major change for me, as I have the best seat in the house to watch my three children, my 7 grandchildren, 3  bonus grandchildren, and now two great grandchildren in their life passages with very few distractions.

I am reminded of the reading from Ecclesiastes as I step into September this year.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:2a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;3a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;5a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to throw away;

a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

Loving and ever patient God, In this new season of life, may I be aware and present to the times that bring joy, and may I endure the harder times with grace, and gain wisdom from them. Amen.

—Katherine Gray

 

 

The Five Adults

Every child needs at least five adults that really care about them. Just five. Five adults that know them, speak to them, root for them and care about them.

Perhaps this is wisdom you’ve already heard. I first heard it from my mother, who is a retired Christian Educator. I came across it again in seminary, and there’s a whole page of relevant links if you Google simply, “Five Adults.”

In a society where people move frequently and parents are raising children without the help of extended family, most American children now grow up with only one or two, or sometimes no adults who truly champion them. Faith communities now play a more important role than ever in the lives of children. One of the hidden strengths of a multi-generational church like St. Andrew’s is that children here are greeted by adults who care about them and inquire about them every week, and who do so out of genuine interest and love.

I see it every week in the way our acolytes are praised by name, and how relationships are forming between them and the adult worship leaders who gather before church starts. I see it in children’s church, where our teachers share their own faith journey, take every question seriously, and laugh with them when they crack jokes. I see it when clergy and parishioners show up to school plays and dance recitals, and remember to ask about that tough test at school.

We may not realize it, but through these seemingly small interactions, together we are strengthening each child’s sense of safety, their self worth, and their sense of belonging. This sense of wholeness and of simply being seen is exactly who Jesus was for the children in his own community (in fact, for everyone he met!).  Let us not underestimate the power we each have to influence a child’s life, both here at church and in our wider community.

I am saying a prayer of thanksgiving right now that my own children have those five (and more!) adults, because of the good people at St. Andrew’s. Thank you! I can’t wait to see how all our children blossom over the years in this place of love.

—Ginny Chilton

Hard-wired for relationship

 As I was walking toward the smoothie spot during a layover in the Baltimore airport, I felt a tap on my arm as a guy was walking past going the opposite direction.  As I turned to see what he was getting my attention about, he pointed to his Louisville shirt and then to my Kentucky shirt.  I immediately knew what he was “saying,” even though he never said a word and neither did I.  I just smiled and made an acknowledging gesture, and we went on with what we were doing.  Never saw him again and never will, but everything that needed to be communicated occurred in an interaction took three or maybe four seconds.  That was several years ago, but I remember it fairly often because that was such a cool experience.

Connections.  We are created to be in relationship with one another, “hard-wired” as neuroscientist Andrew Newburg puts it, to be in relationship with God.  When we have connections that are healthy and appropriate, our lives are enriched and reflect a holiness that God intended in the way we are created.  Science has shown that, without those connections, there are increased mortality rates among infants who are neglected, orphans who do not “thrive,” higher incidents of mental illness and crime.

Now that the start of school signals a return to familiar routines and rhythms of daily interaction that summer often disrupts, it is a good time to be intentional about renewing and deepening our connections with God and one another through worship, fellowship, pastoral care, and outreach.  Being connected, acknowledging another’s existence and being acknowledged, hard-wired for relationship: it’s as basic - and as essential - as a wordless but deeply communicated interaction during an airport layover.

— Marc Vance

 

Making decisions about retirement homes

 “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:  a time to be born, and a time to die…  a time to break down, and a time to build up…  a time to mourn, and a time to dance…  a time to keep, and a time to throw away…” --  from Ecclesiastes 3

What do I do in my “golden years?”  Since I moved into The Chesapeake a few months ago, a number of people have talked to me about their own situation.  What goes into a decision about senior living?  I will tell you about my thought process.  I hope it sparks some thoughts about your situation, or perhaps, that of your parents.  In early 2025 I will bring this conversation into the Adult Forum as a venue to have some conversation about you.
 
I have lived alone for 20 years since my husband died.  I lived in a lovely house I didn’t use fully.  I was tired of arranging for people to do maintenance.  I enjoyed the yard work, but it was getting to be a lot.  I was tired of trying to make creative healthy dinners for one. 
 
My husband and I did elder care long distance for all four parents.  The distance added another layer of complexity to an already difficult stage of life.  We had to make decisions from afar, relying on staff to keep us informed.  I wanted to be proactive and not leave the decision to my sons.  One son lives in Connecticut and the other is in Yorktown. My move to Newport News nine years ago was the first step – moving near Matt.  I knew then that I would seek a retirement community eventually. 
 
Nobody wants to need Health Care or Memory Care, but many people end up with that need.  My priority was finding a facility that had the whole continuum of care available so if in the future I need more, it will be here for me.   I excluded one facility because they do not have Health Care. 
 
I only looked at two places because I wanted somewhere near my son who lives in Yorktown and near St. Andrew’s and other activities I am involved in.  I didn’t want to have to start over in a new community.  I know that if I went to Williamsburg or Virginia Beach the distance would become an issue for me.
 
I did not look at cottages.  I would have loved one, but I knew that a lovely little house away from the main building would isolate me.  I could hear myself saying, “Oh, it is raining…  I don’t think I will go over to dinner – or an activity.”  “Oh, it is so hot out…”
 
I looked at apartments with many of the same criteria I had when house hunting.  I wanted it to be spacious.  I am a light lover, and good windows were important.  I wanted storage for “stuff” I wasn’t ready to let go of – craft supplies, yarn for prayer shawls etc. I wavered on one or two bedrooms and chose a one bedroom with as much space as a two bedroom, but the rooms are more open, spacious feeling.
 
I asked questions about amenities, and one deciding factor was food.  I need to eat gluten free, which is a challenge one facility admitted they could not meet.
 
What is your situation?  Where are you now physically, emotionally in terms of your living situation?  What is your support community?  What are your challenges?  What are you tired of?  Ecclesiastes says there is a season for everything.  It even refers to getting rid of “stuff”!
 
My biggest piece of advice is to go sooner rather than later.  Go while you are able and can integrate yourself into the community and make it home.
 
Most facilities have wait lists – of up to two years.  A deposit (usually refundable) starts the clock.  You have much to think about.  Don’t wait to put your name on a list is this is the right move for you.  All the other decisions – like what to do with the stuff you can’t keep can happen later!  (And there are people who can help you with downsizing.)
 
When we wait until we are in need of care, our decisions are limited by where there are available beds and that is often not where we want to be.
 
I knew that it was the right time for me to make this move.  I can live independently here, using the facilities I choose, and when the time comes if I need more, it will be here waiting for me.  There is a season for everything.  Moving into a retirement community is not the right decision for everyone.  What is your situation?
 
I am happy to help you think about how this relates to you.  Look for the opportunity to explore this in Adult Forum as well.
 
--- Carol Chamberlain

Staying in relationship with those affected by dementia

The Rev. Travis Greenman, chaplain at Patriots Colony in Williamsburg and one of our clergy associates, recently gave a compelling talk on Alzheimer's from the standpoint of staying in relationship with those we love, who are living with this heartbreaking disease. I look forward to her next two presentations.

My mother suffered from dementia, and I wish I had known then, what I know now, as well as what Travis offered us, based on her own experience on the job, and as a daughter. Each of us, at some point in our lives will be called to take this journey with someone we care about. How to enter into their landscape, as a respectful and caring tourist on this journey , is a gift in some strange way. For me, as my mother's filter began to slip away, she was the speaker of many truths that she could not bear to utter, for a myriad of reasons ( depending on the subject at hand) when she was burdened with the rules , expectations, and edicts of her generation and family of origin. It was liberating for her, and certainly for me as a daughter with questions.

I offer this from a book I read last month, This is Me Letting You Go by Heidi Priebe. I was able to travel with my mother as new versions of her emerged, and to honor the light she was able to shine on some dark places of our family's story. It changed me, and it changed my heart. I am grateful for the journey.

“To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost. But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honor what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.”  (from This is Me Letting You Go, by Heidi Priebe)

—- Kathy

PS—- Don't miss Travis' next two presentations on Aug. 11 and 25!

Choose to be inspired

 “O Creator and Giver of Life, who crowned your martyr Maria Skobtsova with glory and gave her as an example of service to the suffering and poor even unto death: Teach us to love Christ in our neighbors, and thereby battle injustice and evil with the light of the Resurrection; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God in glory everlasting. Amen.” 

Often, I find it impossible to read biographical sketches describing the faith of the saints without feeling woefully inadequate and insecure about my own faith.  A recent example I discovered is Saint Maria Skobtsova (21 July), whose fascinating path to sainthood proved anything but traditional.  Mother Maria was a divorced woman, a political revolutionary, an intellectual, and a nun known for her blunt, outspoken, strong-minded personality.  She was born at the end of the 19^th century into an affluent family and later became a member of the cultural elite of St. Petersburg – counting writers, poets, and political thinkers among her close friends.  That comfortable existence quickly disappeared when world war forced her (and many others) to flee Russia for Paris where she lived in poverty and watched helplessly as so many around her (including her youngest child) succumbed to disease and/or the lingering effects of alcohol and drugs.
 
While the first part of Maria’s life focused on ideas, the part that began in Paris centered on action.  She empowered, fed, served, counseled, and cared for all her neighbors, even becoming an active part of the resistance movement that smuggled Jews to safe locations.  Unfortunately, that work eventually led to her arrest and deportation to a concentration camp.  She continued serving others in the camp and carried that service to its most extreme consequence when she took someone else’s place in the crowd selected for “extermination” in the gas chamber on 31 March 1945 (the day before Easter and just as World War II was ending in Europe.)  Her life exemplified what it means “to love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34).  So instead of comparing myself to Mother Maria and feeling inadequate, I choose to be inspired by her and plan to find ways to love all my neighbors (even the difficult ones) and to, (echoing the words of John and Anne in his recent sermon and her recent article) ‘embody hope in my small corner of the world, in Jesus’ name.’      
 
— Lindsey Nicolai

The urgency of Imago Dei

Just a quick word this time upon my return from sabbatical; more later.  If you recall, my theme was imago Dei, the image of God, or more specifically seeing the image of God in who and what God created, both human and the natural world, with the idea being that it is much harder to exploit and harm who and what God created when you see them the way God sees them.  This is part of what I do in my daily prayer practice anyway, but sabbatical allowed a time away from regular parish responsibilities to delve more deeply into that practice.  It was a productive time on many fronts, but one of the things I came away with is urgency in our time of seeing and honoring the image of God in who and what God created, prompted by the increasing number and activity of hate groups, so-called "Christian" nationalists, and in no small measure by the recent escalation of political violence we are witnessing.  All of this is based in the failure and even refusal to see the image of God in who and what God created, all of which makes the greatest of our Christian commandments - to love, to see the image of God in the other - all the more imperative in our time.

— Marc