January 17, 2025
I've spent much of this week getting ready for our Annual Meeting (this Sunday at 9:30 AM). It is an event I always enjoy. There is a lot to gather together: numbers and stats and recaps that the national church requires we track and report. I'm usually scrambling for these and sometimes find what I need on some scrap of paper I tucked away somewhere last June... So it makes me a little crazy, too. And I definitely couldn't do it alone - as you'll see in the Annual Report, there are many others who have their hand in this. But even with the scrambling and the lining up of the numbers and making sure Robert will get his Rules, it is an event I enjoy. Looking back at the year that was, and ahead to the year that will be, always fills me with deep gratitude for this community and all we are called to be together.
In a world that values wealth, status, and power, there is something countercultural about coming together each week to feed our spirits and souls. In a world that values independence and individualism, there is something profound about coming together each week to see how we can support one another. In what other places in our lives do we gather simply to experience holiness together? It is not even about what we find, but how we find it—together.
My prayer for you this week is to know how grateful I am for each of you, and for the community we share as the body of Christ.
January 11, 2025
My daughter and I stepped into a convenience store this week to pick up an item she needed. There was nothing remarkable about the day or the stop; we were simply moving from errand to errand, and we were getting gas anyway. Inside the store we got what she needed, stood in a short line, and then checked out. After we paid, we said thank you to the cashier and gathered our item. "Drive safely", the cashier said, and there was something about the way he said it that felt like he really meant it. We both looked up and said thank you to him again. "And may blessings find you today," he added, looking us in the eyes and smiling.
My daughter and I looked at him, at each other, and then we both broke into big smiles. "Thank you so much," we said to him. We kept smiling all the way to the car.
That is it. That is the end of this story. It was a simple exchange, and a quick one, and we were on our way. But we were on our way feeling truly blessed. It lightened our spirits and made the gray day feel a bit brighter. We felt more connected to the people around us. We felt kinder and more generous.
It does not take much to bless those around us. It does not take a special place or a special occasion or a special person. My prayer for you this week is that you both offer and receive blessings, in the most ordinary places, on the most ordinary days. You never know when you'll make someone's day - or allow them to make yours.
January 3, 2025
In this Resolutions Season, I had to share this, that a friend sent to me this week. It is too good not to! (I don't know the source, but if you've seen it and you know, please do share):
I might add a few things. I'm more interested in what you would add, though. Send your ideas my way and maybe we'll compile a Saint Anne's list! But my prayer for you this week is for you to know how very Jesus-like you already are. You with your generous hearts, your courage in speaking truth, your love for the world. I see you; I am grateful for you; I am inspired by you.
December 20, 2024
Our annual Winter Solstice service is tonight at 7 PM and the sanctuary is ready to welcome us in a cocoon of nurturing darkness before we joyfully welcome the light (over 200 candles are ready for us to light!). For those who are up for it, we'll have a bonfire to follow and warm beverages to hold as you stand around the fire, our ancient friend. Meanwhile, please enjoy this gorgeous poem by one of my favorite poets, the Rev. Steve Garnass-Holmes, who reminds us that the coming of Light in the world is unfolding, even as we wait. And that there is no power greater. Thank you, to the darkness that nurtures. Welcome, to the light that leads the way forward!
December 13, 2024
This is a beautiful, magical, sparkling time of year. It can also be a difficult time of year for many people. The short days and the deep cold add difficulty to much of our daily life. There can be pressure to feel ________ (joyful, grateful, peaceful, fill-in-the-blank-ful). There can be the assumption that everyone else is off to holiday parties or is celebrating with a house full of family. The assumption that everyone else feels a sense of joy and peace. Sometimes these things are true. But sometimes they are not.
I know six families who have lost loved ones in the last few weeks. I know people who are facing their first holiday without a loved one. I know people who will not be seeing family this year because things are strained, or money is too tight to travel, or they aren't healthy enough. People who are not sure what their housing situation might look like in the coming year, or what they might be facing as a refugee in the upcoming United States.
I also know parents who are celebrating a new baby's first Christmas this year, people celebrating good news from the doctor, families who are overjoyed at getting to spend some down time together. I know one couple celebrating a new engagement (full disclosure: this one is my oldest son and his lovely, long-time girlfriend, and we are thrilled!).
There is no doubt that this season can bring a mix of emotions, and heightened emotions. That first Christmas was probably a mix of emotions and heightened emotions as well. Mary and Joseph were young and not yet married, which meant that expecting a baby would have caused quite a cultural stir. They had no money, no status, no sense of security about the future. There must have been anticipation and hopefulness. There must also have been uncertainty, fear, and strain. They must have been cold, and tired, and hungry, at times. And, from all of that, came the dawning of new light for the entire world.
Whatever you may or many not be feeling this Advent and Christmas season, my prayer is that you know that, just as Mary and Joseph were, you are held in God's embrace. Whether you find that embrace a safe place to cry, or a joyful place to celebrate, my prayer is that you feel that embrace, as we once again wait for the dawning of new light. As we wait for Love to be born again.
December 6, 2024
Yesterday evening my husband and I pulled our Christmas decorations from our storage room. To our dismay, when we unwrapped our beloved hand-carved-from-olive-wood-in-Jerusalem Nativity creche, we discovered that, likely due to the record amounts of rain this spring and summer, every piece in the Nativity was covered with a dusty, greenish, mold. The creche had been a gift from my dad about 20 years ago when he travelled to the Holy Land for work, and as we went to work cleaning it up, I found myself near tears.
It's just a thing, I kept telling myself, it's just stuff. Clearly, a clean Nativity set was nothing compared to a clean bill of health when someone is facing an illness, or any other of the very serious things that happen in life. I felt embarrassed at being so upset.
It's just stuff. But it is also more than stuff. Over the 20 years we've had the creche, taking it out each year has been a special part of the season for me. A feeling of being surrounded by the wonder of the story and connected to something bigger. I've pictured my dad taking time from his work to walk to the market near his hotel in Jerusalem, and carefully pick out four Nativity sets, each a little different: one for me, one for my sister, one for my brother, and one for he and my mom. I've imagined the artist who carved them. The trees they came from. I've pictured my dad trying to carry these four Nativity sets home on the plane, too fragile to leave to in checked luggage. I've imagined the hundreds of people who did the same, and imagined all the Nativities carved from the same grove of olive trees, still connected through time and space each Christmas when they are set out in their various new geographies.
Our stuff is just stuff. Nothing compared to love, health, care, hope, and all other gifts of Spirit. And sometimes stuff is so closely tied to memories or emotions that it is difficult to separate the things from the feelings. I suppose this is why traditions matter to us so much. They can ground and root us, tying us physically to bigger spiritual things. And this is the season for both traditions and bigger spiritual things. As I cleaned our Nativity set last night, gently scrubbing Mary's face, the shepherd's crook, and the palm tree carved into the side of the stable with a soft toothbursh, I also recognized that traditions and connection feel especially meaningful this year, when the world itself feels unstable and uncertain. I am looking toward Jesus the Morning Star for hope and guidance this this year more than ever.
The good news is our Nativity set is mostly saved now. The pieces are a little bit worse for the wear, but the actual Holy Family probably was too, that first Christmas. Aren't we all, from time to time. My prayer for you this week is for memories, emotions, and connections to things and people in your life to bring you hope, peace, and joy, even through the muck and mold the world can throw at us sometimes. My prayer is for each of us to remember that muck can be cleaned; love remains. And if love can carry four creches through three international airports, it can certainly carry you through anything, too.
November 29, 2024
Our Saint Anne's community is one of my greatest blessings. Thank you for your joy, compassion, hearts, wisdom, spirit, light, and all the ways you live into the teachings of Jesus. Thank you for all the ways you bring more love to the world. I am thankful for each of you!
November 22, 2024
My mom shared a poem with me this week that I'll share with you, below. She said it reminded her of last week's Gospel text. That passage was Mark 13:1-8, where Jesus said in order to usher in the world God dreams for us - a world of equity, connection, and care for one another - the great buildings we see around us must tumble. "Not one stone will be left here upon another" and then "This is but the beginning of the birthpangs."
Though the people of Jesus' time did see the great Temple fall into rubble around them, the imagery of "old buildings" tumbling is a metaphor for the dismantling of systems and structures of human hands that don't result in loving our neighbors as ourselves. Passages like this ask us to think about what needs to crumble around us, to make way for God's dream for the world?
The question is intriguing. And scary. The systems we have now do not all serve all of us well, but they are the systems we know. And sometimes, consciously or not, we choose the devil we know. But the poem my mom shared inspires me to work on setting aside fear about "the birthpages" of change:
WHEN THE EARTH SHAKES - Chelan Harkin
It’s when the earth shakes
And foundations crumble
That our light is called
To rise up.
It’s when everything falls away
And shakes us to the core
And awakens all
Of our hidden ghosts
That we dig deeper to find
Once inaccessible strength.
It’s in times when division is fierce
That we must reach for each other
And hold each other much
Much tighter.
Do not fall away now.
This is the time to rise.
Your light is being summoned.
Your integrity is being tested
That it may stand more tall.
When everything collapses
We must find within us
That which is indomitable.
Rise, and find the strength in your heart.
Rise, and find the strength in each other
Burn through your devastation,
Make it your fuel.
Bring forth your light.
Now is not the time
To be afraid of the dark.
My prayer for you this week is not to be afraid of the dark, because God is in it with you. My prayer for you this week is that you feel yourself rising to meet any challenge, because God is in it with you. My prayer for us this week is that we reach for each other with care in the middle of the tumbling of old buildings, because God is in it with us.
November 15, 2024
After finding some inexpensive off-season plane tickets, my son Aidan and his wonderful girlfriend, Kira, are traveling in Europe right now. They're away for two weeks and Ireland was their first destination. Shortly after touching down, Kira texted to let us know they were safe and sound, and heading off to explore. She included in her text this little interaction they had shortly after landing in Dublin:
Aidan went to the rental car counter to check in and they asked for his last name. When Aidan said "McNally'" the man at the counter looked up and said, "Welcome home."
For reasons I cannot quite explain, hearing this story brought tears to my eyes. It may have been imagining Aidan's connections to his Irish ancestors, and how those bonds cross time and space. But even more simple than that, I think my tears were just acknowledging the tender beauty of belonging, and the grace of a warm welcome. Especially meaningful at a time the world feels like it's leaning toward the unkind and unwelcoming.
Every single one of us needs a place to belong. A place to be seen and heard, celebrated and loved. I believe that when we each cross the veil we will be greeted by God with the most wonderful "Welcome home" we could imagine. But before that time, belonging right here and now matters too. Jesus offered us countless examples of inclusion and welcome, and we are called to draw our circles wide the way he did. To this end, I was grateful and proud last weekend when the ECMN passed two resolutions, at our annual convention, regarding how we as a church will continue to welcome people of refugee status: with dignity, protection, and care. Our baptismal covenant insists on nothing less. Jesus insists on nothing less.
My prayer for you this week is to know the warmth and grace of belonging. I pray you each feel this at Saint Anne's, where you (yes, you!) are part of the very fabric of belonging. And I pray you feel it in your soul, wherever you find yourself. That you, just as you are, belong. A beloved child of God. Then I pray you take your own belonging and use it to welcome others into the circles we will only draw wider and wider. Because "Welcome home" might be two of the most God-like words we can say to one another.
November 8, 2024
For the second time this week I will ask: How are you doing? I truly want to know and am so glad so many of you have reached out. Bishop Loya wrote an email to the Minnesota clergy this week, and I'd like to share it with you:
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There’s a moment in the series Ted Lasso when the coach gives an epic post-game speech after a devastating loss. He says:
“This is a sad moment right here. For all of us. And there ain’t nothing I can say, standing in front of you right now, that can take that away. But please do me this favor, will you? Lift your heads up and look around this locker room. Yeah? Look at everybody else in here. And I want you to be grateful that you’re going through this sad moment with all these other folks. Because I promise you, there is something worse out there than being sad, and that is being alone and being sad.”
In these days after the election, many of us... are more than sad. We are angry, afraid, and deeply divided. Like Ted Lasso, none of us have words that can take any of that away. But it is true that there is something worse than being sad, angry, or afraid, and that is being those things alone....
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This week has been raw and tender and feels like it's been a month long. Maybe because I've gone through a month's worth of emotions, and maybe you have, too. We will have a gathering during our Adult Ed time this week to share and process and try to move through some of it together. We'll lean on Scripture, on ancient wisdom, and on one another. As I said on Wedneday, Jesus gave us work to do, and that work hasn't changed since last week. Our identity as people of God and Saint Annians hasn't changed either. But if we have some gunk to sort through before we're ready to pick that up again, that's ok. We'll sort together. Because ...there is something worse than being sad, angry, or afraid, and that is being those things alone....
My prayer for you this week is to know you are not alone.
November 1, 2024
I have my stories, and I know you do, too. The times I have been deeply missing a loved one who has passed, and suddenly their song is on the radio. The times I'm wishing a loved one who has crossed could be sharing a moment with me, and a bird or butterfly flutters around for long enough to make me wonder. The dreams of them that feel so very real.
The Feasts of All Saints and All Souls (Nov. 1 and 2) remind us that it is all real. They are real. Our ancestors of faith: Moses; Abraham and Sarah and Hagar; Martha, Mary, and Lazarus; Francis; Julian of Norwich, yes. But our own ancestors as well. My loved ones who have passed, and yours, too. These holy days remind us that they're all still here, with us. Across the veil, but still loving us, teaching us, and guiding us. And, yes sometimes, I truly believe, pulling some sort of trick to remind us of their presence! (How do they do that radio thing?!)
My prayer for you this week is that you feel the presence of one you love but see no longer on this earth. Feel their presence and know they are there, just on the other side of Love. My prayer is that you know they are still cheering you on. Still walking with you on your journey. Still loving you. Still, and always. I can't wait to celebrate them with you on Sunday. If you have one, bring a photo of your loved one(s) to put up on our altars of remembrance. I'd love to meet them.
October 4, 2024
Social media algorithms seem to know me pretty well. Specifically, they're onto the fact that I'll watch pretty much any animal story that crosses my path. Cute animal videos, rescue animal videos, animals in the wild videos. Bonus points if it's a sea turtle video - those I'll usually watch twice. This week I stumbled across the story of Petey the Seeing Eye Donkey.
Petey is a donkey who lives on a small farm with two horses, one of whom is Luna. Luna came to the farm as she was in the process of going blind, and now she has fully lost her sight. Petey has become Luna's seeing eye donkey, and Luna and Petey's humans share videos of their friendship. The two sleep in cozy stalls across from one another and each morning the first thing Petey does is walk across the barn to greet Luna. He then leads her outside where they enjoy grass under their feet and sunshine on their backs. When Luna wants to walk around the pasture she signals Petey and he leads the way. When she wants to go in, he again leads the way. Occasionally, Petey is seen encouraging Luna to take the lead herself, offering her gentle nudges and brays of assurance as she takes careful steps.
The thing that makes their story especially beautiful is that Petey took this role on himself. No one has assigned him this task. He didn't interview for the job. Petey connected with Luna and decided, in his own donkey way, that is what friendship looks like.
Don't animals have so much to teach us? I can't wait to welcome. celebrate, and bless them this Sunday as we celebrate the Feast of St. Francis. Though I do often wonder if it isn't they who actually bless us. My prayer for all of us this week is to be the people our animal friends think we are.
September 27, 2024
In my sermon last week, I mentioned some parallels between the way the disciples behaved when acting from a place of fear after they learned Jesus would be killed by the Roman Empire, and the resurgence of white Christian nationalism today. I said that when we boil it down, white Christian nationalism, which is the belief that the United States should be a Christian-only nation and twists passages from Scripture to justify malevolence toward people of color, is also a result of people acting from a place of fear. Fear of "the other", fear of things they don't understand, fear that they might lose some power or prestige they feel they have now.
In the disciples case, arguing about who among them was the greatest meant that someone else must be the least. Maybe they thought the greatest among them would be protected from the dangers they worried about, and Rome would focus on "the least" as an easier target. The disciples’ response to fear was to create division between one another. To create an “us” and “them”. This is the way white Christian nationalism behaves as well, and it is once again on the rise in our communities.
There’s a reason Jesus tells us throughout the Gospels not to go down the path of fear. When we act from a place of fear, whether that fear is valid or not, it very often causes harm to God’s people. When we grow spiritually mature enough to recognize fear, but learn not to act from that place and instead act from a place of love and connection, we are living into the Kingdom of God.
What we, as followers of Jesus, can to do stand against white Christian nationalism a long and involved conversation. It's one I hope we might have carefully and with grace over the next few months. For now, many of you asked where you might learn more. I've gathered up a few sources that may be helpful from a Christian lens and you can find them here and here and here . Here is the article shared by Doug Rude, that I referenced in my sermon. Here is a video of Presiding Bishop Michael Currydiscussing what the Episcopal Church has to say about this issue.
My prayer for us this week, and always, is to learn to recognize our own fears and come to understand that if it's about fear, it's not about God. My prayer is that we - in our families, local communities, and nationally - might come to learn to speak and act from a God-shaped place. From a place of love, as Jesus taught. God's people are counting on us.
September 20, 2024
Over the last week I:
Officiated at Analise and Chris Ober-Slepica's beautiful wedding
Baptized their darling son Izaak at the same ceremony
Attended the funeral of a dear friend who died unexpectedly
Had a great Vestry meeting with the fantastic Saint Anne's leadership team
Started making some Advent liturgy plans
Saw the lunar eclipse
Celebrated with Office Administrator Kathy the birth of her newest grandson
Went grocery shopping and had my bags fall out of the back of my car and spill into the parking lot - in the pouring rain
Forgot to buy dog treats and did not go back; now dealing with sad puppy dog eyes every time they go out to do their business
Attended various meetings in person, by phone, and over Zoom
Woke up to my "Aurora Alert" going off at 1 AM and went outside to get to peek at faint Northern Lights right in my yard
Went to a training session for ECMN clergy about how to navigate this contentious election season in the church
Saw a doctor for the deep cough that's been hanging on since I was sick
Scooped two dead birds off of Saint Anne's sidewalk and gave them a little funeral in our woods
Continued planning for our 2025 Pledge Drive
Studied the lectionary readings for this week
Read, wrote, and sent about a million emails
Got things organized for our Ministry Fair this Sunday and marveled at all of the wonderful things Saint Anne's is up to
Felt bad about the things that haven't gotten done yet
And that is how some of my time was spent. When I look back on it, I realize I saw God present in some of it so clearly (wedding! baptism! Northern Lights!) but I wonder if I forgot to see God in other places (grocery store? commute time? setting up Zoom links?). How about you? I know each of your days and weeks are full of all kinds of events and details too: things big and small, joyful and difficult, expected and unexpected. Though we know there is nowhere we can go that God is not, it is certainly easier to sense that Holy presence in life's most spectacular moments.
My prayer for all of us this week is to remember to see sparks of the Holy in all we do. Even and especially the mundane. May we have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to feel God's presence in even spreadsheets and spilled groceries.
September 13, 2024
My mom and one of her dearest, life-long, friends have not always shared the same political views. For most of their friendship that was not an issue, but over the last few election cycles, "political differences" have felt more like canyons: nearly impossible to meet in the middle. "Agreeing to disagree" doesn't feel genuine when they both believe there is so much at risk, and it's put a strain on their connection.
Determined to save their friendship, my mom and her friend recently decided they would sit down together, with the purpose of listening to one another. Ahead of their sit-down, they'll each share with the other their top concern about the other's chosen candidate, and their top election issues. They'll then listen to what the other has to say for a set amount of time, without defending their own position. Their goal is not to change one another's mind, but to understand one another better.
I will admit, my dad and siblings are all a bit nervous about how this is all going to go, but apparently my mom and her friend are onto something. Earlier this week, Dianne Del Giorno shared with me an MPR story featuring a program sponsored by Braver Angels called Walk a Mile in My News, which is aimed at people interested in better understanding other people’s political perspectives. MPR states:
What ‘Walk a Mile in My News’ is: This project aims to help Minnesotans build more positive relationships with people of differing political views.
Who it’s for: People who are interested in understanding other people’s perspectives better by looking at the media sources that inform their views. Basically, people who want to help tone down the vitriol of political disagreements and try to have hard political conversations, better.
Intrigued? Maybe you have a friend, or family member, or neighbor in the same position as my mom and her friend. Maybe you're willing to go there with them. It's not about giving up your deeply held beliefs in any way, it's just about understanding one another better.
In this week's Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, "...those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it." I don't think Jesus was talking about our losing our physical lives, but he was saying that for the sake of the Gospel - for Love. Compassion. Community. Connection. Hope. Joy - there will be things we must be willing to lose. I imagine shutting ourselves off to caring about why others think they way they do is one of those things we're called to lose. Sigh. I know Jesus says flat out it ain't gonna be easy, but boy, oh boy, is it hard.
My prayer this week is that we each find ways to rise to the challenges of the Gospel, even in these challenging times.
September 6, 2024
A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted, because they are no more. (Jeremiah 31:15)
In this haunting passage from the Book of Jeremiah, Rachel, the beloved wife of Jacob, embodies the traumas of her people, who have been broken by the tragedies of exile. This image of Rachel crying in unconsolable agony at the loss of the lives of children is used again in the Gospel of Matthew, in reference to Herod’s slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem. Rachel brings front and center the reminder that with deep losses, easy platitudes are not helpful. They are not true compassion. They are not enough.
A voice is heard in Ramah... This passage runs through my mind every time there is another school shooting. Like all of you, I always feel a full range of emotions over these tragedies in our common life. Deep sorrow. Anger. Frustration. Helplessness. Wondering when this modern day slaughter of innocents will end. Though I believe in the power of prayer, the platitude of "thoughts and prayers" is not helpful, is not true compassion, and is not enough.
In case you didn't know, the Episcopal Church, like our siblings in the Catholic Church, the Lutheran Church, the Methodist Church, the UCC, the Unitarian Universalists, the Jewish Council for Public Affairs, the Islamic Society of North America and many other mainstream religious groups, has taken a firm stand against gun violence. I don't know if there are any other issues that almost all mainline religious folks can agree on. Because A voice is heard in Ramah over and over again, and platitudes are not enough.
You can learn more about the work the Episcopal Church is doing toward ending gun violence in our country, and how you can support and join this work, right here. The Episcopal Church also supports a sub-group called Bishops United Against Gun Violence that, among other things, marches to draw attention and lobbies for sensible gun regulations. Our own Bishop Loya is a member of this group.
My prayer for all of us this week is that our swords may be beat into plowshares and our spears into pruning hooks (Isaiah) and that we might take the words from James 2:18 seriously: Someone might claim, “You have faith and I have action.” But how can I see your faith apart from your actions? Instead, I’ll show you my faith by putting it into practice in faithful action. God's people are in distress and the power to end their cries is in our hands. I pray for us all, this week, to somehow, with God's help, rise to this responsibility.
August 30, 2024
This week I had the chance to spend a day with a dear friend from college. She lives in Seattle now and though we chat by text almost every day, we do not have many opportunities to spend in-person time together.
It was wonderful to be in the company of someone who has known me so well, for so long. We picked up where we'd left off: chatting, laughing, and in sync as if no time had passed. We texted some photos to our group of roommates from those college years - now spread over many states and even into other countries. One wrote back, "You two look just the same!". We appreciated the sentiment, but laughed a lot at that one.
When we said goodbye, we both said the day together had felt sacred. As I reflected on it later, I went down a path of thinking that meeting God one day must be even more of that: even more a feeling of being fully seen and deeply known. Maybe one day God will smile at each of us and say we look "just the same" - and we'll just laugh, knowing how much our earthly journey shaped and changed us, but appreciating God's lens.
My prayer for you this week is that you feel seen and heard and known for just who you are. To understand, in some way, that you "haven't changed" at your core, even as you can see your own growth over time. My prayer for you this week is that you feel this is how God knows and loves you. And may there be laugher, at the joy of it all.
August 23, 2024
I am still smiling from last Sunday's beautiful baptism of sweet little Lucia. The way we all see and celebrate the light of Christ in even the tiniest among us. The way we all promised, as we do with each baptism, to help her grow, in whatever ways that looks like for her, into the full stature of Christ. Plus - did you see her tiny bare feet, and her excited siblings gathered around?!
As the political climate in our country continues to heat up, the beautiful baptismal promises we make to and for one another in our church continue swirling in my heart and mind.
Will you continue in the fellowship... ?
We will, with God's help.Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons...?
We will, with God's help.Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
We will, with God's help.
It is not always easy to live in community with those who have different values and thought-processes than we do. It gets downright difficult when we feel those "others" are forcing their views on us, or don't care if we or others experience harm. And when humans feel threatened, we tend to lash back, perpetuating the cycle. Trying to navigate those difficulties makes me extra-glad to be an Episcopalian. Sure, one who fails mightily, every day, but an Episcopalian nonetheless, with the wisdom of our baptismal promises offering a lens for engaging with others that is life-giving rather than combative and destructive. (I just need the aforementioned help from God more on some days than others!)
This fall we at Saint Anne's are going to be exploring ways to help us remain in community with those around us during this election season. Remaining grounded in our baptismal promises, even as the political temperatures rise, is one way. And don't worry, this is not a watering down of your values, or stepping down from the work of justice. It is possible to be passionate about the issues you care most about, and still respect "the other's" dignity. The truth is, there is fear that comes out as anger on all "sides". If we can all set that aside for even a short time, we may be surprised at what transpires.
This isn't easy work, but I'm pretty sure our greatest teacher has it all laid out and has been waiting for us to join him on this path. So my prayer for us this week - for you, and me, and for our communities in general - is to have the courage to follow.
August 2, 2024
Last week marked the 50th Anniversary of the ordination of women in the Episcopal Church. As some of you know, our very own Lori Bakker and Wayne Ogorek, as well as Saint Anne's first rector, The Rev. Anne Miner-Pearson, are part of a 30-minute documentary called Every Gift An Offering, telling the story of how the Episcopal Church in Minnesota "struggled, strove, and adapted to this new reality, with God's help." The film was created by the Bishop's staff and filmed in part at Saint Anne's.
In the film, Anne, Lori, and Wayne share beautiful and moving insights about how the very early Saint Anne's community was brave and bold in confronting biases and assumptions, some their own, and expanding their understanding of what it means to follow Spirit far and wide. Personally speaking, it is not a small thing for me to stand on the strong shoulders of such faith, and I do not take it for granted.
My prayer for all of us this week is that we always strive to keep our hearts and minds open to new ways Spirit may be calling us to be in community with one another, and to be the church in the world. Even when, especially when, it feels challenging. Who knows what might be waiting for us yet! You can watch the film below and I hope you find it as moving as I did
July 26, 2024
I always mis-remember summer as a time of slowing down. It may be that I'm remembering a different time. As Corinne Hamlin noted recently, she remembers easy-breezy summers from when she was a child, but now that she's in charge of the children it's a whole different story!
Yes, it's been a bustling summer. We launched it in style with Pentecost, and then went into a wonderful week of Summer Stretch, the festive West St. Paul Parade, tried something new and exciting with 5th Sunday House Church Gatherings, and then decked out for West St. Paul Pride. A beautiful documentary about the first women priests in Minnesota - featuring Saint Anne's first rector and two Saint Anninas! - was filmed in part at Saint Anne's. As we strive to be a beneficial community resource, Rojas Spanish School, Rotary, and AA continue to gather regularly in our building. In trying to be good stewards of our beautiful grounds, we've installed a new roof, entered into work on our well, plumbing, and AC issues, engaged in ongoing work on installing solar, and done lots of gardening. We're working on updating our signage, and researching the possibility of starting a preschool on site. With thanks to so many who have jumped in with hands and hearts, Saint Anne's has been one hopping place this summer!
This Sunday we'll celebrate all of this, and all that makes Saint Anne's who we are, at our annual Saint Anne's Day Celebration. We'll share the story of our patron saint (you can read more about Anne below), during our liturgy, and we'll enjoy friendships old and new at the BBQ after that. It will be a day to bask in the warm spirit of our community
My prayer for you this week is to know that you are a valuable and important part of this community. That's right, I do mean you. We are who we are, because of each of you, the unique gifts you bring, and your willingness to share them so generously. We are who we are because you show up with your whole hearts. Your laughter and your tears, your joys and your vulnerabilities, all make Saint Anne's a place of hope, healing, learning, growth, peace, and joy. A slice of the kingdom of God. You all never fail to amaze and inspire me. Being in community with you is a great honor and a great joy.
So come this Sunday. Bring a friend. Bring a side dish or a lawn game to share if you're able, and don't worry, if you can't. There is always enough. Because we're Saint Anne's. Let's celebrate!