Waiting out the Cold 

I have always enjoyed winter. I remember spending hours outside with friends having snowball fights, digging tunnels through snow mounds, playing football, and going sled riding (the colloquial term for anyone from western PA). Then and now, I also take pleasure in feeling the cold. The brisk chill can invigorate and the crisp air can seem fresher to the lungs. For these reasons, I was never one who wanted to rush through winter to get to spring. If I did not get a full three months of winter, I felt cheated. As I reflect back now, I suppose that my embrace of winter was rooted in playfulness and youthful joy.

Subzero temperatures aside, as an adult I still find myself appreciating winter. Here we are in the dead of this polarizing season. While it is true that I am still one to bundle up (with or without my children) and frolic outside in the cold or snow, I recognize that I now approach these months with a particular spirituality. The naked trees, frozen tundra, and long, frigid nights give a rather convincing impression that life is stagnant. All we can do is wait for the earth to orbit and the spring thaw to come in order for us to see and believe that creation will, in fact, happen anew.

Although we might be inclined to simply “hold on” and survive the winter, we have to be careful to not let our hearts hibernate. As people of faith, how can we stay engaged and attuned to what is happening in our fractured world that is need of redemption? To refrain the question according to the Prophet Micah, how can we do justice, love kindness and mercy, and walk humbly with God?

As we were reminded this past week, this year marks 50 years since Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. We have yet to establish a society and culture where black lives matter equally. Moreover, last week people from all faiths gathered in DC to witness against torture and cry out to the awful reality of Guantanamo Bay where our country still detains dozens of people in violation of habeas corpus. Finally, I would be remiss not to mention that President Trump just revoked the temporary protection status for one quarter of a million Salvadoran immigrants many of whom belong to the Episcopal Church.

A part of us may simply want to wait out the cold. One hopes the spiritual part of us overcomes and inspires us to respond with urgency to the social and moral evils that impede the forming of the Beloved Community. Beneath snow covered ground and within the roots of the exposed, brittle trees, life is happening. Divine grace continues to be at work and in motion. May our hearts, minds, and spirits stay active in this time of winter. May we discern how God is calling us to be Disciples of Christ in our ever changing and broken world!

Paul Shoaf Kozak,
Intern

On this national holiday when we remember and honor Martin Luther King, Jr., I am reminded once again how much we yearn for light.

When we’re children we wake our parents in the night to say, “I had a bad dream,” and they respond, lovingly, “go back to sleep, it was just a dream.” My parents would leave the hallway light on, and for some reason that little crack of light underneath the door gave me sufficient assurance to fall back asleep. That might be a great technique for children, but I’m not sure it works for adolescents or adults.

In fact, there’s a psychic and social cost to going back to sleep because when we avoid grappling with darkness our moral conscience doesn’t get strengthened, and before long, our ethics devolve into rules instead of cultivated wisdom and compassion.

Today Dr. King’s “I have a dream speech” will reverberate in our ears. I love that speech, and like many of you, I can quote entire lines. Yet, I must confess that I’ve relegated it to a precious shelf on the archives of my heart and mind, unintentionally giving it due reverence without incorporating it. I feel a renewed call to make those words and the sentiment with which Dr. King said them, the inspiration I need to change the way I think, act, and feel. I yearn for the light, and I yearn to be the light.

On Christmas Eve afternoon I was walking from church to home and was joined by Nina Cronan, a twenty-something Parishioner who lives in Boston (and who grew up across the street from Epiphany). Nina is the principal of a school in East Boston, where more than 70% of her students are people of color. While most of her students are American citizens, most of the student body’s parents are not. From my comfortable perch of privilege it’s hard to imagine what life at home is like for these families, and, when I asked about that Nina said, “it’s really hard to learn when you’re constantly afraid.”

But there was a beam of light in Nina’s story. A really, really big beam of light. In addition to a large Spanish speaking community who find safety and solace at school, a growing number of Moroccans, most of whom are Muslim, do too. Guess what part of the school building the Muslim kids use to say their prayers? The principal’s office! Just before Christmas Nina received lovely notes from the Moroccan community thanking her for opening her office to be a place of prayer. In my mind’s eye I can see Nina and her students singing today, “this little light of mine.”

Maybe the invitation for today is to ask God to use us, so that something of Dr. King’s witness and words will so fill our minds and hearts that we will be a beam of light. Here’s a prayer for today:

Almighty God, by the hand of Moses your servant you led your people out of slavery, and made them free at last: Grant that your Church, following the example of your prophet Martin Luther King, may resist oppression in the name of your love, and may secure for all your children the blessed liberty of the Gospel of Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Faithfully in Christ,

“Now Samuel did not yet know the LORD, and the word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him. The LORD called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the LORD was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. Now the LORD came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.                 1 Samuel 3:7-10 (NRSV) 

The word of the LORD came to Jonah a second time, saying, ‘Get up, go to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim to it the message that I tell you.’ So Jonah set out and went to Nineveh, according to the word of the LORD."                           Jonah 3:1-3 (NRSV)

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’ And immediately they left their nets and followed him. Mark 1:16-18 (NRSV)

My sister gave me a puzzle for Christmas this year. A 1500 piece jigsaw puzzle. Daunting. I haven’t done a puzzle in years. I haven’t had the time and besides, 1000 piece puzzles are my limit. When I was a little girl, I loved doing puzzles. For two weeks each summer my family would rent a cottage on a lake in Maine and we would flop around all day swimming, rowing, reading and on a rainy day, make a pilgrimage to L.L. Bean. I would always work on a puzzle in between all of these activities. My family knew it was my thing and I had a certain place in the cottage to spread out the pieces where I would spend hours during the day and even late into the night work on it. I so enjoyed seeing it come together and fixated on completing it. I am wondering if any of you enjoy doing puzzles, also. There are many ways to go about working on a puzzle. Some people are more organized doing a puzzle than others. I myself am a haphazard, unsystematic puzzle person. I begin a new puzzle looking at the pieces all jumbled and messy and spend hours sifting through the box of pieces, becoming familiar with them, pulling out the interesting ones and edge pieces. My strategy is to find and connect all of the outer pieces first and then work on the rest as it slowly goes together. Most of my puzzles consist of a large amount blue sky and if you have ever worked on a puzzle, at the beginning, all of these blue pieces seem the same. But after spending time staring at these pieces, I begin to notice subtle nuances between the blues. At some point it becomes easily apparent how the pieces fit together into blocks. I love thinking about where blocks of pieces might go, and am often surprised when they end up in a totally different part of the puzzle from what's expected.

When I was a girl, I would give into the flow of how the puzzle was fitting together, sifting and connecting, and at some point, my mind would wander and wonder. I thought about people and relationships in my own life at the time, especially people with whom I wasn’t connecting very well, as time with my puzzle went by, I started to understand why these relationships weren’t working. Slowly, it would become apparent as to what I could do to heal them. I would take stock in the things that I was doing that were and weren’t life giving for me and make note to let go or focus in new directions. As the puzzle connected, I made connections in my own life. When I finally finished and placed the last piece into the puzzle, I felt re-centered and reconnected, refreshed with new hope to go back into the world with clarity about who I was, where I fit in and what I was meant to be doing. Looking back, I realize now that this puzzle meditation quieted me so that the “word of the Lord was revealed to me,” God was calling me, and doing a puzzle helped me be still enough to hear the call. This past week, I have spent time on my puzzle, rediscovering this meditation that gave me so much joy years ago. My girls stop by to help find a piece or two before getting bored; I pray they find their own ways of quieting themselves. As I finish writing this article, the border of my puzzle is complete and I am grappling with the blue sky. There is much wandering and wondering to go. I am grateful that God will call for me not just two times or four times but 100 times if needed, because 1500 piece puzzles take a long time and I will probably miss the call a few times. I thank my sister for reminding me of the joy of doing a puzzle.

May you each find your own way of quieting yourselves so that the word of the Lord will be revealed to you.

And may you be ready to answer God’s call with, “Here I am, for your servant is listening.”

Love,

Beloved Community,

We hear many stories during this season of Advent, this season of waiting and anticipation. We know some of the stories by heart. The passages of scriptures that many of us heard last night at our Lessons and Carols service are etched on our hearts, as are many of the carols that we sing during this beautiful and holy season.

Recently, I stumbled upon a book in my library at home that made me pause to pick it up again. It is called, Tracks in the Straw: Tales Spun from the Manger by Ted Loader. Ted is a Methodist Minister and prolific writer of poems and prayers. One of the chapters in his book entitled "Trillia Minor," is about a swallow that happened to fly into an ancient barn on the night that Jesus born. This common bird describes the scene:

"That's how it was that night for me, an ordinary swallow. He saw me, Trillia, the only Trillia that ever was or will be. And when he did, there was a rush of fire and wonder in me that, ever since, I've poured out in a song that I taught other birds to sing. To me, it was as though that was why he was born. It was to see me; and to see everyone else in that stable, every other creature on the earth, to see us so we would forever know we are seen."

We would forever know we are seen. The Christ that is in the world, that dwells in each one of us, see us in all our glory and brokenness, our joys and our grief, and our struggles. And in turn, Christ invites us to see each other - to see beyond our well-put-together selves, our "Sunday best" selves. Christ invites us to see those who are invisible in our culture: the unhoused person on the street, the hourly wage workers who serve us politely at restaurants, the gas station, the grocery, and so many other places of our privileged lives. Christ invites us to see those who are incarcerated, those whose religious and political practices differ from ours.

And so, as we approach the Feast of the Incarnation in one short week, I wonder how we will prepare our hearts and minds for Emmanuel - God with us. How will our lives change? I pray that God will give us the eyes of Christ - that we will see one another and the stranger with compassionate and loving eyes, that when we greet one another and look into others' eyes, we will be as the Christ Child was to that little bird, Trillia, on the first Christmas. May we say to everyone we meet, "I see you, just as the tender, loving Christ does, I see you."

Faithfully,

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me…” Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Matthew 25.

During the sabbatical I explored reading poetry. For those of you who are lovers of poetry, or actual poets, I hope you’ll receive that statement as a confession, for I intend an amendment of life. The plain truth is that my formal education didn’t include much in the way of poetry. It’s only been in the last few years, and really the past few months, that I’ve taught myself to read and appreciate poetry. 

The American poet, Edwin Markham, in his poem, How the Great Guest Came might initially seem a little trite for this season, but it wasn’t—it isn’t—for me. We all know the season of Advent is the time to celebrate God’s coming to us, as well as the time to celebrate his coming at the end of the age; we also know that Jesus is coming to us all the time, not just during Advent, but in the day-to-day ordinary, everydayness of life. This is where How the Great Guest Came comes to life and light for me.

The poem introduces the reader to Conrad, a kind German cobbler who lives alone. Early one morning the Lord appeared in a dream and promised, “I’m coming your Guest to be!” Conrad sprang to his day to prepare for the coming of the Great Guest. He washed the floor, shined the shelf, and spread his table. The whole while Conrad watched his door for the Great Guest’s coming:

                And his face grew still
                As we he watched for the shadow across the sill.
                He lived all the moments o’er and o’er,
                When the Lord should enter the lowly door
                The knock, the call, the latch pulled up,
                The lighted faced, the offered cup.

Even though Conrad was busy preparing, he wasn’t so busy that he did not care for three strangers who had come to the door. First a cold beggar, then a hungry woman, and finally a homeless child. As the day came to a close Conrad’s Great Guest had not come. He was confused, and disappointed, and prayed:

                What is it Lord, that your feet delay?
                Did you forget that this was the day?

Then in the stillness of his heart Conrad heard the Great Guest speak:

                Three times I came to your friendly door;
                Three times my shadow was on your floor.
                I was a beggar with bruised feet;
                I was the woman you have to eat;
                I was the child on the homeless street!

Until the Lord Christ comes at the end of the ages we have to keep watch—every day—for him to come to us in other people. It was Jesus himself who said, “as you did it” to the least of his sisters and brothers, we are doing it to him. 

I wish you a holy and beautiful Advent.

Faithfully in Christ,

It is that time of year when time, itself, is most accentuated. We just ended Daylight Savings’ Time. Now nighttime comes so early for New Englanders. In due time, the snow will start falling. In a few weeks’ time, Thomas returns from sabbatical. It is also almost time for the holidays. For some this time of year brings joy and hope, while simultaneously provoking nostalgia for times past. Others may, in fact, dread this time of year as the voids within the soul and the unhealed wounds of the heart cause melancholy and isolation. Time can surely assign meaning to all of our feelings and experiences.

As members of the Church, however, we have a unique relationship to time. We see ourselves not simply as mortal beings subjected to the whims of chronological time. Rather, we recognize that through God’s grace, we have the opportunity to exist as one community in a way that transcends time. More precisely, we live in the Kairos, on God’s time, when we act with kindness, compassion, and justice. When we embody true discipleship, we refuse to succumb to the many ways in which time’s dominion exploits our vulnerabilities and anxieties.

I admit that any discourse, my own thoughts included, about time can be somewhat esoteric, if not downright confusing. Philosophers throughout the ages have struggled to comprehend time, even debating how it should be defined. Most frequently, humanity has pondered the question – what is time? Comprehending time in this way as some sort of object can be rather elusive. Hence, phrases such as “time is money” or “time is running out” are commonplace in our vernacular. 19th century Christian thinker, Soren Kierkegaard, reverts our understanding of time by rhetorically asking, who is time? The implied answer for Kierkegaard is we. We are time! Since we view ourselves as the People of God, it can be firmly asserted then that the Church is time!

We are time when we love our neighbor and when we follow the Beatitudes. We are time when we work towards building God’s Kingdom. Kierkegaard’s view of time is both a blessing and a challenge, a timely one (pun intended) given that we approach the liturgical season of Advent. How do we manifest time? How do we use, to quote Mary Oliver, our “one precious and wild life?” How do we connect with the Saints of previous ages and also inspire the Saints of the future?

Our entire being is time. We are time not when we trade a stock but when we exchange our hearts with someone who is lonely. We are time not when we sell a house but when we provide a space for someone to call home. We are time not when we hang Christmas decorations but when we welcome the refugee with hospitality. Our Savior, too, was born this way. We are time not when we do things on our own but when we gather and break bread together. May we commit to being time now and in the years to come!

Paul Shoaf Kozak
Intern

Beloved Community,

The fall is flying by and soon our beloved Rector will return to us. There will be much to share on both sides – what we have learned, how we have grown in our faith and life, and how we have changed. We began the Program Year by looking at what it means to be a follower of Jesus, a disciple. We have been looking at our Baptismal Promises, especially the one that bids us “to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbors as ourselves.” We have asked the question, “who is our neighbor” as we invite those new to our community of faith and as we encounter the stranger in our daily lives.

Despite the fact that our Rector, our Interim Director of Music, and our Youth Minister have been absent for a good portion of the fall, we have continued to thrive and grow. Many of you have stepped up and given even more of your time to help keep our programs vital and engaging for our children, youth, and adults, and for that I am truly grateful.

Now we are in the heart of our Annual Commitment Campaign. Our Neighbor to Neighbor program for stewardship is moving into its third and final week. If you have not received the blue 3Crowns bag yet, please let us know. We need everyone’s commitment, even if your circumstances have changed since last year. Rather than saying that you cannot pledge at all, I invite you to make some pledge as a sign of your commitment to God and to the ministry of this Parish. For those of us blessed with resources, I hope that you will prayerfully consider increasing your pledge by five percent. This increase will help us go beyond the programs and ministries already in place.

As some of you know, we are excited about starting Stephen Ministry here at Epiphany. Stephen Ministry is a special training program for lay people that deepens the pastoral care already in place here and offers one-on-one companionship with those who have suffered the loss of a loved one, employment, illness, or other life transition. Stephen Ministry has been in existence for over thirty years and over one hundred different denominations all over the world have benefited from its training and resources. We would like to send four lay people from our Parish along with me to a week-long training in January. These four will then become the trainers for our Epiphany Visitors, Lay Eucharistic Visitors, and Prayer team, along with those who wish to become a Stephen Minister.

In a Parish of our size, having someone on staff who can administer the many aspects of communication is crucial to our common life. With your increased pledge we may be able to hire a part-time communications person to keep our website fresh and engaging, help us keep Epiphany current with social media, and find new ways to invite those who are looking for a faith community.

We have much to give thanks to God for as we look forward to Thomas’ return. It will be a huge gift to him if he sees how much our love of God has grown and our commitment to this Parish has grown. Let’s make this Annual Commitment Campaign the best ever!

In gratitude and faith,

On Sunday, 15 October, Epiphany's Adult Forum had the pleasure of a presentation and discussion on Discipleship and the Episcopal City Mission, (ECM), led by the Reverend Arrington Chambliss, ECM Executive Director, and assisted by Brother Michael Melendez, the Deacon of Community Engagement at ECM. Truly enlightening. Now, some of you were not able to attend and some of you who did attend may have further questions about ECM. So here is a very brief summary and a link to enable you to learn more or even to become more involved.

Episcopal City Mission (ECM) is a faith rooted organization whose purpose is to build relationships of collective power for more just, whole, and equitable urban communities in Massachusetts as an expression of God's transforming love. ECM partners with grassroots and faith-rooted organizations working for racial, economic, and immigrant justice through the integration of three roles: Funder, Convener/Mobilizer, and Prophetic Leadership Facilitator. By way of example, today ECM has programs to:

• Develop the prophetic listening capacity of your congregation by attending ECM's Prophetic Listening workshop and learning how to listen for how God is calling you to seek justice alongside your wider community in early February 2018 (exact date TBD).
• Funding for community-based parish partnerships and initiatives that focus on racial, economic, and immigrant justice. Funding is particularly focused on Boston and gateway cities of MA.
• ECM is building a Rapid Response network; an organized team of people who are committed to resisting oppression, and responding to communities in the event of a crisis which would threaten racial, economic, and immigrant justice. You can join our rapid response network by signing up for our newsletter on the ECM website.

Join ECM on Wednesday, November 8th, from 11:00am to 1:00pm as ECM stands with our partners at Centro Presente and other local organizations to demonstrate support for TPS at the State House.

Jack & Peggy Roll

The Healing Team at the Parish of the Epiphany has 12 ministers dedicated to offering prayers during the 10:00am service every Sunday. We take turns being at the healing stations, during the distribution of communion, one in front of the lectern and the other in the rear of the Church. About once a month my turn comes up to serve, as I dress that morning I pray for the serenity to meet God as a channel for companioning another in prayer.

I arrive at Church a little early. Inside, it is busy with the warmth of friends greeting friends. As I slip into a familiar pew, I pray again. Then the service begins. When the consecration ends, I walk quietly up to the altar to receive communion before taking my place at the healing station. I stand and pray while people begin to file up for communion. A woman whose husband died a week or so ago passes by me. I send up prayers for her to find comfort in her sorrow. A woman with a cane limps by in visible pain. I pray for her healing. A man with his arm in a sling walks past. I give thanks because I know he is doing better. Soon people begin to find their way back from the altar rail. Not everyone who needs healing stops to ask for prayer, but a line does begin to form by the prayer desk. A young boy asks for prayer for his sick dog. He fears his dear companion will die. A woman asks for a prayer of Thanksgiving for her son's graduation. A disabled man comes up but he doesn't mention his physical pain. He prays for healing of a broken relationship. He regrets the wound he may have caused by what he said. Next, a father has been suddenly laid off. We pray for support and strength to find his way through this crisis. In the background I can hear the congregation saying the post communion prayer. But there are two more people waiting.

A young woman kneels in prayer. She tells me she has been diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. She is very afraid. Afraid of the terrible struggle she is facing. Afraid of what will become of her family if she dies. Together we ask God to stay by her side with strength and healing. There is one last person. He tells me that today is the anniversary of his wife's death. Together we give thanks for their long and devoted marriage. We pray for peace. We pray for new life. There is no time for more prayers. I hear a processional hymn beginning. I replace the chrism (healing oil) in the prayer desk and return to my seat in the pew. I'm so filled with prayer that I can't sing...surely we are an amazing parish family. Surely this is what communion is -- to pray together for one another, to uphold one another in sorrow and in gladness in the context of the Eucharist. I am grateful to be here at the Parish of the Epiphany.

This reflection is offered in the hope that it will help give our congregation a better sense of what is happening during the communion time in our service. The details of each situation have been changed to protect the privacy of those who ask for prayer. We on the healing team have a covenant of confidentiality. We do not speak to anyone of the prayer that is shared with us. We do not "follow up" to ask how the person is doing. We serve only to speak the prayers of those who ask for them, to accompany each one in a prayer of joy, or a prayer of sorrow, or a prayer of need. Our ministry is confidential prayer. We invite you to visit one of the prayer stations at the front or back of the Church. Jesus has promised, "wherever two or three are gathered in my name, I am with them." He is most certainly there with us when we pray. He is very present in the Parish of the Epiphany every Sunday morning.

Gayle Pershouse Vaughan

Once a month, I sit in front of my computer, close my eyes, and breathe. I remain in silence for a few minutes and then open the Parish prayer list.

As a member of the Intercessory Prayer Team, I have the opportunity and responsibility to reach out and contact parishioners who have requested prayers for themselves or others. While I sometimes struggle with what to say, I find these moments of ministry to be deeply centering. I feel my faith strengthened as I read and respond to parishioners. The trust that they demonstrate in sharing these requests fills me with gratitude and humility. As I begin typing, I sense that the Kingdom is near.

Are you curious about Epiphany’s Prayer List ministry? We would love to talk with you about our own experience. There are lots of different ways to participate:

1) You might consider joining us on Tuesday night for our prayer service. Every week, we gather at 6:00pm in the chapel. One volunteer reads each name on our Parish Prayer List. We repeat the name and sit in silence, lifting this person up to God. It’s a quiet service that usually lasts thirty-five minutes. For me, it provides a time to step away from the busyness of a work day and to be centered in the Holy Spirit.

2) You might consider signing up to pray with us. There are over thirty people who receive our Prayer List on Tuesday night. They commit to remembering those in need by praying for them. Some folks pray on Tuesday night from home; some take the List when they are out for a walk; others start each morning by prayerfully reading it. There’s no right way. This ministry is an opportunity to add a new dimension to your relationship with God. You can also sign up to pray for immediate needs that are sent out in an email alert. These requests usually arrive when someone begins a serious medical operation.

If you are interested in signing up for either Prayer List (the Tuesday Night Prayer List or the Emergency Prayer Chain), please send an email to prayer@3crowns.org. For our dedicated partners who have received these Lists this past year, please also send an email if you would like to continue this ministry for another year.

3) Finally, we invite you to share your prayers with us. When you are in need of prayer, or have friends and family in need, please send us an email or fill out a prayer request form on our website (https://3crowns.org/prayer). It is an immense gift to receive these requests. Each one reminds us of our interconnectedness. When we ask for prayers or pray for others, we are living as the Body of Christ.

We hope you’ll consider joining this life-giving ministry.

Grace and Peace,

Jake Montwieler, on behalf of the prayer list team,
Barbara DeWolfe
Brett Johnson
Martha Lewis
Gayle Pershouse