Upcoming Events and Maundy Thursday

I'd like to draw your attention to two important events here at Christ Church in the next few days. First, I hope you'll be with us on Sunday for our ministry fair. Tables will be set up for representatives of the many projects and ministries you can get involved with in our parish. On Monday, March 30, we're having a meeting here at Christ Church at 7 pm (with pizza) to discuss the possibility of hosting a site for free lunches for local children. We are just a mile from the Whittemore School, where fully half of the students receive some kind of discounted or free meal during the school day. When school's out, they may not receive a balanced lunch. We were asked to help because of our location, and because the city is losing one of its former lunch sites (after already having lost 3 lunch sites from 2007 to 2008). This would be a shared effort between Waltham churches, and members from the Baptist, Unitarian, Lutheran, and Methodist churches will also be meeting with us. Please let me know if you can be there so I can provide enough food for us all. On a related note of ministry with kids in need, save the date for B Safe, on July 16 and 17, the inner city summer day camp program we volunteered with last year. Bill Fowler will have pictures to show at the ministry fair and can tell you more about it on Sunday!

This week I'll continue our exploration of the Holy Week services, and talk a bit more about Maundy Thursday. The word "Maundy" comes from the Latin, mandatum, which means commandment-we commemorate the Last Supper, when Jesus washed his disciples' feet and gave "a new commandment."
I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:35)

In the liturgy, we wash each others' feet-we are each others' servants. Men and women, older and younger-we are all called to serve each other. Is it awkward? Of course. It's a level of nearness we don't frequently experience with our friends, much less the person you sit behind in church. But is it holy? Absolutely. The disciples didn't understand what Jesus was doing at first, either. When Jesus kneels at Peter's feet, he says, "You will never wash my feet." Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." Peter is confused-an act of submission by his Lord? No way. Jesus says, "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." Does Peter get it, later? Much later, he does-after the crucifixion, after the resurrection, he understands just how different a Lord Jesus was. Not one who wants domination and power, a Lord who wants to be on the floor, kneeling in front of us, comforting and consoling. A Lord whose only commandment is love. One who invites us to kneel there, too, to continue his work for each other. We are his Body, now in the world. It's time to get down on the floor.

The foot washing takes place between the sermon and the prayers of the people. The liturgy continues with Communion. After Communion, we strip the altar. All the hangings, all the chairs, all the cushions and candles come out of the sanctuary. We do this to prepare for Good Friday, to remind ourselves of the abandonment of Christ, and the utter absence and desolation of that day. Everyone who is present in the church is invited to help strip the altar-it's not just a performance by the clergy or leaders of the service; it's shared by us all.

The great "Triduum," or "Three Days" of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Great Vigil are, technically, one service-there's no final blessing or dismissal until the end of the Great Vigil. Wednesday is a bit of a prelude to the "big event" of those three days.

Next week: The mysteries of Good Friday.
Blessings,
Sara+

From March 19: Holy Week Services

This week, I've started getting ready for our Holy Week services at Christ Church. I know there are a lot of folks who are new to the Episcopal Church (and those of us who aren't can always use a reminder), so for the next few weeks leading up to Holy Week, I'm going to dedicate part of this space to talking about the services. As Ed put it at vestry this week: "Maybe you should actually say what it means to strip the altar? It gets really uncomfortable without those kneelers!" (that happens on Maundy Thursday, which is the topic of next week's email...)

Here, our observance of Holy Week begins on Wednesday, with a service of healing and reconciliation. Technically, the services of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil are ONE service, called the Triduum-one long meditation on the events of Christ's Passion and resurrection. It's an intense experience, and helps us to approach the heart of what we believe as Christians. I find that the Wednesday service helps us to draw near to those services that observe Christ's passion with (if you'll excuse the expression), our spiritual ducks in a row. The service consists of a regular Holy Eucharist, but instead of doing the general confession like we do on Sundays, we do the rite of Reconciliation (sometimes called Confession) all together. In the time when the penitent is invited to confess particular sins, we have time for silence.

The rite of reconciliation has a distinctive place in Anglican/Episcopal tradition quite unlike its place in the Roman Catholic Church, where people are more familiar with it. It's not ever required of anyone-the absolution we receive all together as part of the regular Sunday service is sufficient-but doing the rite can be especially healing if there are particular sins and sorrows on your heart. The rite consists of prayers to enlighten us to acknowledge and remember what we have to confess. The penitent promises to forgive others as s/he accepts God's forgiveness. The rite concludes with the absolution and these words: Now there is rejoicing in heaven; for you were lost, and are found; you were dead, and are now alive in Christ Jesus our Lord. Abide in peace. The Lord has put away all your sins.

In our Wednesday service, the reconciliation of the penitent is followed by a litany of prayers for healing. After the litany, individuals who desire special prayers for healing (for you or for someone else) come to the altar rail. The Celebrant makes the sign of the cross on the person's forehead as they kneel at the altar rail, and whoever is present is invited to come up and lay a hand on their shoulder. Healing services have become quite common in the Church; some parishes do them regularly even on Sundays. The rite reminds us that God is never far away, though we sometimes need special assurance of God's presence and grace.

After prayers for healing, we celebrate the Eucharist. We are re-membered as the Body of Christ, nourished and sent out in God's grace. We meet next for the liturgy of Maundy Thursday, which you'll learn more about in next week's email!

Blessings,
Sara+

In the Wider Church and Community
Saturday, April 25: The Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts Parish Historians' Society. Held at Christ Church, Quincy. Registration at 8:30 a.m., Opening Remarks at 9:30 a.m. Topics include researching slavery in the history of your parish.

Safety for Kids Event
This comes to us from Michelle Hache-- at the American Legion, Waverly Oaks Rd on March 29, 10-2. With police dog demo, karate demo and assorted booths. The Masons offer a child ID kit which include dental imprints, DNA, fingerprint, and a video--the parents keep the kit, but have the information in case it's needed. Michelle has found in the past that showing up a bit later means that the lines aren't quite so long, so you can still come

From March 12: Lent

The word "lent" comes from the Old English world "lencten," for the lengthening of days. With daylight savings time having started last Sunday and the last few snow storms finally passing, I'm starting to actually believe that spring-and Easter-are coming. After a long winter like this, though, I've had a hard time believing that spring will actually come. Whenever we talk about the weather Marcia always reminds me about the snowstorm that came one June, and we're not out of the woods yet.

Of course, in the church, Easter always follows Lent-in the Gospels Jesus never talks about his suffering and death without talking about his resurrection. That can be harder for us to remember, though, in the midst of our darkest times, when even the ordinary days of Pentecost seem an impossibility, much less the joy of Easter. As he called from the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" I think that was probably Jesus' experience as well. He knows what it feels like.

Where are you in your Lent?
Is it feeling like Lent to you, or like Advent, or just like an ordinary time? The church year brings our attention to certain aspects of human life, but our own spirits aren't necessarily always there. Noah's and my honeymoon ended up being in Lent, and I assure you that it was not what I would call penitential. But this year I am feeling like Lent. It seems like everyone in my house has been sick since Christmas. It's cold. Even the dog is pitiful, since he was neutered this week and isn't allowed to run around. As I pray my Lenten discipline of being mindful of my time, I'm all too aware of how little time it seems that there is. It is definitely Lent.

But Easter is coming. We get glimpses of it here and there. At our book group on Tuesday, we had a wonderful discussion about belief, and mystery, and what Helen Keller, who wrote about how faith is a state of mind, might say to Penn Jillette, whose essay was about how there is no God. In the liturgy on Sundays we receive the Body of Christ-we are reminded that we are the Body of Christ. We are nourished, though, not just for ourselves, but for what it enables us to do. One of my favorite lines in all the prayer book comes from the Eucharistic prayer we're using now--Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. The grace of God isn't given us just to make us feel better; coming to church on Sunday isn't just a spiritual "pick-me-up." We are forgiven to empower us to live freer, more generous lives; we are fed to enable us to feed others.
Blessings,
Sara+

In the Wider Community
Hearts Alive! Gulf Coast Benefit Art Show
Artist Lori Gordon: March 27-28 Trinity Church, Boston: Proceeds support St Anna's Episcopal Church's Medical Van in New Orleans. Click Here.

Spaghetti Dinner and Raffle
Saturday, March 28, 5:30 - 7:30 p.m., Fundraiser for Community Day Center of Waltham, a day shelter supporting homeless and low-income adults. Hosted by First Evangelical Lutheran Church, 6 Eddy St., Waltham. Adults $7, children $5 in advance or at door. email director@communitydaycenter.org

From March 4: Our Broken Parts

We met Tuesday night for our first Lenten adult ed series, on the essay collection "This I Believe." I admit I chose the book a little impulsively-I'd enjoyed the essays they broadcast on the radio, and thought it would be a nice break from the slightly heavier stuff we did last fall with the "Commit" series. Yesterday we listened to an essay from a college student, Colin Bates, who works as a health aide for his "bosses," two developmentally disabled men. He talked about how our society values us for what we can do, not who we are. He writes,

Most of the people I know are embarrassed by what they can't do. They see it as a sign of weakness and consequently walk around with burdened hearts. For my generation the notion that success equals fulfillment has been pounded into our brains as if it was the truth. My generation is being told that if you can't do something alone, if you're not smart enough or capable enough, then you've failed. So far, the turning points in my life have not been the times I succeeded at something, but the times I've whispered, "I'm lost," or, "Help me," or, "I need a friend." In becoming helpless, I've allowed myself to be shaped and supported by those who love me-which makes helplessness a gift. And I have my bosses to thank for it. We've discovered the joy of helping and being helped. I believe sometimes our vulnerability is our strength.

Lent invites us to examine our more broken parts-the faces we don't always show the world. We're asked to be honest about the things in life that are hard-not just the ways we don't "measure up" to our own expectations, but the ways we're unfaithful to God. The thing is, we aren't just called to be faithful to God as if God were "out there" someplace-we are called to be faithful to the image of God in which we ourselves were created. One of the tasks of the Christian life is finding out who we really are-not just what we can do or where we live or who our parents are, but who we, genuinely and in our souls, are created to be. Not what we can do, but who we are.

When it comes to Lent our vulnerability really is our strength, because when we ask God for God's help always receive it. Thanks be to God!

From Feb. 26: The Invitation of Lent

I'd like to share a poem (of sorts) that I mailed out last year as well--I'm not sure where it comes from. A friend sent it to me and I thought it captured well the invitation of Lent. You'll be receiving the Fieldstone Crier soon, with more news from Christ Church and thoughts about the season.

This Lent...
Fast from suspicion and feast on trust
Fast from complaining and feast on appreciation
Fast from judging others and feast on Christ within others
Fast from idle gossip and feast on purposeful silence.
Fast from bitter anger and feast on forgiveness.
Fast from discouragement and feast on hope
Fast from worry and feast on trusting God
Fast from unrelenting pressures and feast on prayer that sustains.
Fast from lethargy and feast on enthusiasm.
Fast from emphasizing the differences and feast on the unity of life.
Fast from thoughts of illness and feast on the healing power of God.
Fast from discontent; feast on gratitude.
Fast from hostility; feast on nonviolence.
Fast from self-absorption; feast on compassion.

Blessings, Sara+

From Feb. 11: Mortality

With our new administrator, we've been looking through the files and cleaning up some of the old. I was just going through one cabinet and found the living will of someone who had probably died more than ten years ago-strangely poignant, to lean through time and hear about her desires for care. Mortality is much on my mind, preparing for Ash Wednesday on the 25th-and we buried George Wilkes this morning, too. The words from our burial service, "Even at the grave we make our song, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia" echo in my mind. The prayer book has some of the best poetry I know in it, and the rite for burial must be the best of it.

George was not terribly old-he was 71-and died gently in his sleep at home. He'd suffered from dementia for some time, and so his wife, Louise, who has long been part of this community, arranged for caretakers to come when she was at work or doing errands. This didn't leave for much time to come to church, so I'd bring her communion once in a while. Whenever I arrived, George was always sitting in the easy chair in the living room. He'd show me his joke calendar and tell me the joke for the day, and then Louise and I would go into the kitchen and talk.

It's really hard to take care of someone who is sick-I don't think Louise will feel singled out for me mentioning her in this email, because it's an experience that a lot of us have had. Toward the end of her life, my grandmother stayed with us for a while, and it was hard-a strain for the whole family, certainly, but I'm not sure how it could have been any other way at that time. Families take care of each other; it's what we do.

"It's what we do"-it's what we do, but it's still hard. I've been listening to a CD of the teachings of the Tibetan Buddhist writer Pema Chodron, and she talks about how the difficulty of our life is just more food for our spiritual growth. Buddhism teaches that through accepting suffering and "making friends" with it, we are able to grow and change.

Acceptance is certainly important (the alternative, after all, is not very productive), but the Christian take on things is pretty different. We pray to meet everything as an opportunity to serve Christ-"when you did it to the least of these, you did it to me" (Matthew 25:40). That entails acceptance, but also something deeper. One of the most beautiful eulogies I've ever heard was at the funeral for Jasmine Noel Corliss (her grandmother is a member here), who died last fall. She was just 2 years old, and had severe disabilities throughout her life. The person who spoke talked about how much life and love she had called out of her siblings and parents and family members-how they had grown because of her. Though her death was tragic, the mystery of life is such that God is with us even in the most difficult times. God is able to bring us near in those times. Not just to "get through it" but to serve Christ. And so the care-taker and the cared-for both give glory to God in their own way.

Compassionate God, support and strengthen all those who reach out in love, concern, and prayer for the sick and distressed. In their acts of compassion, may they know that they are your instruments. In their concerns and fears may they know your peace. In their prayer may they know your steadfast love. May they not grow weary or faint-hearted, for your mercy's sake. Amen.

Donations in George Wilkes' memory may be made to Grandma's Pantry here at Christ Church or to the Alzheimer's Foundation in Watertown.

Next week, I'll be on retreat with the Sisters of Saint Anne in Arlington. Since Monday is a holiday, I'll be off the computer (and out of the office) starting this Sunday afternoon (the 15th). I'll be back to it by the 22nd, so I won't be missing a Sunday. Of course if there is a serious emergency, I can be contacted at home. Our new parish administrator, Kristina DeFrancesco, will be holding down the fort during our regular hours, from 10 to 2 Tues-Friday.