Rogation Days: 2024 version

It’s become a force of habit now, when I flip to the page in my Episcopal Musician’s Handbook for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, to ignore the part where it says “Rogation Sunday” as well as the accompanying suggested hymns having to do with plowing, crops, wheat, and fruits. Rogation days in the ancient church were a time to bless orchards and fields as the community planted what they needed to sustain them for the coming year. I’ve never been part of a parish that recognized Rogation Sunday, so I never gave it much thought.

What would it mean to celebrate Rogation days in 2024 (May 5th-8th)? There are few, if any of us, at St. Andrew’s who are farmers. Even those of us who excel at gardening are aware that the success of our home gardens is not a matter of life or death. Food production is largely invisible; I buy bags of apples that are unnaturally identical, and my chicken comes boneless, skinless, and feather-less.

As I take a moment this year to actually pause over the suggested Rogation hymns (291: “We Plow the Fields and Scatter,” for instance) I wonder what other labor goes unnoticed and un-blessed. Who made sure that Amazon order I needed at the last minute for my vacation was packaged and delivered to me in two days? (And what happens to the excess trash from my last-minute purchases. *face palm*) Who takes care of our elders in places few of us visit? How many hands were involved in making sure my daughter’s asthma medication is always stocked, and that my sons and their classmates get free breakfast and lunch every school day?

Do you yourself shoulder responsibilities at home or work (or both!) for which you receive little recognition? Bless you and the work you do. May you, and everyone who does essential but unseen labor, feel seen by God through the prayers of your church family this week, and every week. Amen.

— Ginny Chilton, Minister of Music

 

Sabbatical, Imago Dei

My vision for sabbatical is not near as grand as Anne’s was, but the purpose is the same.  Sabbatical is not an extended vacation (like taking a Disney cruise or sipping a mai tai on an exotic beach somewhere).  The word “sabbatical” has its etymological grounding in the biblical (especially Genesis and the resulting Judaic tradition) concept of “sabbath” during which God rested from and took delight in the work of creation, from whence comes the idea, not only of rest and delight, but renewal - being re-created and more capable for the ongoing work of ministry.  I’ll be away on sabbatical for two months, from May 19 through the middle of July.  (I am an alternate deputy to General Convention, which is June 23-28 in Louisville, KY, exactly when I return will depend on whether I am called up to serve at General Convention during that week.)

My focused attention will be what is already grounding in my daily prayer life, though going ever deeper.  That is, imago Dei, seeing the image of God in who and what God created (like what we talked about during the opening forums this past January).  More specifically, the “who” is based in our Baptismal Covenant promises of seeking and serving Christ in all persons, striving for justice and peace, and respecting the dignity of every human being, as well as the scriptural imperative to love God, neighbor, and self, which includes elements of racial and ethnic equity.  The “what” is a focus on the natural world, caring for God’s creation, which, if you recall, was God’s first command to humanity.  Or as I pointed out in January, having the eyes to see that the creation reveals its Creator.

I’ll be going to natural areas like the Smoky Mountains on the North Carolina side, the Okefenokee Swamp in south Georgia, and the Boundary Waters area in Minnesota. 

There are a couple of other places I’ll be visiting with particular resources for attending to the natural world, including where I went to seminary in Sewanee, TN, and at Purdue University in Indiana.  While on that trek, I’ll be seeing the outdoor drama Unto These Hills in

Cherokee, NC, which tells the story of Cherokee history, including the Trail of Tears; and a little later, traveling to a site in southwestern Kentucky (Hopkinsville) marking one of the routes of the Trail of Tears.  I’ll also be perusing noteworthy historical sites in Montgomery, Selma, and Birmingham, Alabama.

My sabbatical will also include relatively significant time with family in Tennessee, Indiana, Kentucky, and Virginia. And yes, a quick stop at Disney World; following the lead of a group known as Disney Monastics (you can see the image of God in the imagination and creativity at Disney - if you have the eyes to see). Family (and to some degree, even Disney) is an essential aspect of how I take care of myself - renewing and re-creating myself - so that (with much gratitude for the gift of sabbatical, I might add) I return more capable of serving God among the people of St. Andrew’s.

— Marc Vance, Associate Rector

I am grateful for you!

Dear friends,

I am grateful for:

Busy moms who take the time to craft a poignant Maundy Thursday service where children learn to wash each other’s feet

Hardworking altar and flower guild members and leaders who polish, scrub, lug, decorate, refill, iron, launder, organize, replenish, and arrange to create such beauty for our worship week by week, season by season, year by year

Those whose hands hold and distribute the bread and wine, helping us partake of Christ himself, inside the church and elsewhere

Volunteer receptionists who answer phones and doors and endure long periods of potential boredom in order to spring into action when needed

Musicians and their leaders who grace us with the gift of their voices and other instruments, leading us in song and enriching our worship

Those who guide us to and from the altar, collect our offerings, provide us with bulletins, and greet us with a smile

Teachers and helpers and nursery staff who enfold our littlest ones with love

Acolytes of all shapes and sizes and ages; those who are learning and those who are mentoring

All who plant and rake and weed and water, stewarding our precious grounds
Cooks and dishwashers, servers and table setters; all who nourish us in body and spirit through church fellowship

Those who pledge and tithe and give; and all who count and organize, deposit and manage our finances, caring wisely for that which has been entrusted to us

Sound operators and video streamers, ably overseeing electronic ministries and gamely leaping to assist each other when glitches arise

Those who study and those who teach; on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays and so many other times in between

Lectors who read God’s word for us and offer our heartfelt prayers to God

Staff who scramble to ensure that funerals and receptions are a source of comfort and hope for grieving families; that our spacious and somewhat challenging building is well cared for; that concerns are addressed and communication happens

Vestry members who grapple faithfully with knotty problems in order to serve God and their fellow parishioners

People who come and worship even when they are tired or stressed or overwhelmingly busy; even when the morning hasn’t gone smoothly and the car ride wasn’t pleasant

Those who speak or text or email sweet and encouraging words to uplift tired spirits and remind people of God’s love

All who go out into the world for God’s sake and on our behalf

You  😊
 
Easter blessings and much love.  -- Anne

Eastertide

Eastertide is the season where we get to hear a little each Sunday from the book of Acts, a record of the wild experiences of Jesus’s first disciples as they went into the world to tell the good news. After having taken a good look inside ourselves during the season of Lent, in Eastertide Jesus pushes us from the nest and we find ourselves, like those disciples, bumping our way through actual discipleship in the real world.

It’s exciting, especially at first, when the memory of the risen Lord is fresh in our minds. Think of the last time you had a personal revelation, or you read a book you adored; you couldn’t wait to tell someone.  But at some point the newness wanes and the vigor you once felt is no longer enough to properly fuel your work in the world.

That is, I believe, where your Christian community comes in. For the members of the choir, for instance, we feel refreshed in our knowledge of the risen Lord when we work intensely on an anthem and it comes together on a Sunday morning. We hit just the right chord and there is something sacred born that is more than the sum of the individual notes. In children’s church, interactions amongst children who had just met were of course hesitant in September; now those same children huddle together in excitement as acolytes, waiting for the procession to begin. I see God at work every week when going about my responsibilities at church. Parishioners show up, without fanfare and probably sometimes without thanks, to collect and deliver food to the food pantry, to water the plants inside and out, to make sure the children’s activity bags are freshly stuffed and have a rotating selection of activities.

Much of God’s work is difficult and tedious. Not every gathering of the faithful produces a golden moment you treasure, but it is because we did not neglect to meet that we gather what we need in order to do what Jesus sent us to do. This Eastertide, as you flap your fledgling disciple wings, I hope St. Andrew’s can be your place to flock and renew yourself week after week.

Ginny Chilton, Minister of Music