Visita del Obispo

Yesterday the Most Rev'd Martín Barahona, Bishop of El Salvador and Archbishop of the Anglican Church of the Region of Central America (IARCA) visited our church. We held one service, instead of three, and managed to have the same attendance as a normal Sunday. Anne Brown took all the photos, moving from the gallery to the floor and back up to the gallery. Enjoy.


The Treble Choir sang which makes for a full house up front. It's sobering to think that the attendance in the chancel yesterday was close to what I'd see on a Sunday at my former parish... in the nave.


The translation was OK — a couple of dumb mistakes until things got going and the translator (Trinity's Priest in Partnership) could figure out contextually what he was saying... at the end, he got took off without stopping and the translator could not repeat all he had said.


This photo is neat, taken through the new organ pipes in the gallery.


You've got to admit — the space is wonderfully impressive in photos. Clearly this is the recessional.


An anonymous donor gave the bishop copies of Dick Clark's Stations of the Cross (done in 1994, the originals are at Saint Paul's Cathedral, Burlington). Only 100 copies were made. The stations are reminiscent of those at la UCA, Antigua Cuscatlán, El Salvador.

The parish gave $1539 ($500 from the Women of Trinity and the rest from the offering at the service) to Fundación Cristosal, a most helpful offering.

Requiat

June Shook died this afternoon at 12.45 at Rutland Regional Medical Center. She was anointed with the sacrament of Holy Unction yesterday.

She requested a simple graveside service. Date will be announced.

May her soul and the souls of all the departed rest in peace and may she rise in glory.

Bishop Barahona's Visit

Don't forget that this Sunday at 9.30 we will welcome the Most Rev'd Martín Barahona, Bishop of El Salvador and Archbishop of the Anglican Church of the Region of Central America.

Bring along a check made out to Fundación Cristosal so that at our brunch we can present Bishop Barahona with a donation to the church in El Salvador.

And bring your friends and family! It doesn't matter if you don't speak Spanish. God will be worshipped and we will have a grand time.

This Sunday, ONE SERVICE at 9.30.... Vienen cantando con alegría, Señor.....

A reminder

Remember that this Sunday, 25 October, we will have ONE SERVICE ONLY at 9.30!

Bishop Martín Barahona, Bishop of El Salvador and Archbishop of El Salvador will be with us to preside and preach.

The Eucharist will be followed by a brunch and conversation with Bishop Barahona.

Bring your family and friends and spread the word!

Proper 24B

Thank God for the disciples! Even they on the inner circle manage to come up with some questions that are doozies. Even they, who walked and talked with Jesus, manage to miss the point and ask questions that come out of their limited and all-together too human vantage point. Their questions make me feel a lot better for some of the ones I ask of God.

This section of the gospel of Mark includes Jesus’ trip with the disciples from Cæasarea Philippi in the north to Jerusalem in the south. During this trip, Jesus puts forth a crash course in discipleship and what it means to follow him. This teaching section is introduced by the healing of a blind man who finally sees ‘everything clearly,’ and ends with the second healing of another blind man who ‘regained his sight and followed Jesus on the way.’ Two outsiders receive clear vision while repeatedly the core disciples demonstrate their obtuseness. Again and again, the inner group of Jesus fails to understand what Jesus says and does.

This morning’s gospel contains two sections: first, the request of James and John to figure prominently in the movement and Jesus’ reply and, second, the anger of the other disciples at the audaciousness of their request. We need to remember that James and John were up on top of the mountain with Jesus and saw him transfigured as well as seeing Elijah and Moses alongside him. Their audacity is not totally unfounded.

Apparently James and John didn’t get it when Jesus placed a child in their midst. Nor did they seem to understand when Jesus blessed a group of children (who, in that time, were considered non-entities at worst and convenient nuisances, like animals, at best). Nor did they understand Jesus’ stern teaching with the man in which he told him that he needed to let go of everything. And lastly, they clearly did not grasp at all Jesus’ predictions about the cross that laid ahead for all of them.

Despite the density of James and John, Jesus doesn’t rebuke them. Instead, he flips their question around and tells them they don’t know what they’re asking. It’s almost the same sort of questioning that God engages in when God finally starts peppering Job with questions: Were you there when the earth burst forth from its womb? Where you there when the heavens and seas were created? (Sort of: What do you really know about these matters?)

Here, Jesus asks them, Do you know what it means to take the cup that I will receive? Do you know what it means to be baptised with the same waters in which I have been baptised? Do you have a clue what this all means? What it means is that you will need to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, suffer and die to be born anew. If you are bathed in the waters of baptism and drink from the sometimes bitter cup, then you can find the glory of resurrection.

Jesus puts forth hard demands to live up to!

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What does it mean to take the cup that Jesus takes and share the baptism that he has received? The words to hymn 695 [which the choir sang at the 10.00 HE] offer one glimpse, partial as it is, of what taking the cup from God means.

By gracious powers so wonderfully sheltered,

and confidently waiting come what may,

we know that God is with us night and morning,

and never fails to greet us each new day.

Yet is this heart by its old foe tormented,

still evil days bring burdens hard to bear;

give our frightened souls the sure salvation,

for which, O Lord, you taught us to prepare.

And when this cup you give is filled to brimming

with bitter suffering, hard to understand,

we take it thankfully and without trembling,

out of so good and so beloved a hand.

Yet when again in this same world you give us 

the joy we had, the brightness of your Sun,

we shall remember all the days we lived through,

and our whole life shall then be yours alone.

F. Pratt Green adapted to hymnody this poem that Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote in a letter addressed to his mother for her 70th birthday. The poem reflects on the turning of the years and on the end of one’s life. Bonhoeffer lived with the fear of death and, indeed, within a few months of writing this poem the Nazis executed him. He was hanged at age 39 in the concentration camp at Flossenbürg on April 9, 1945, one of four members of his immediate family to die at the hands of the Nazi regime for their participation in the small Protestant resistance movement that refused to accept the teachings of Aryanism.

What brought Bonhoeffer to death was his theologically rooted opposition to National Socialism. Along with Martin Niemueller and Karl Barth, in the Confessing Church, Bonhoeffer was a leader and outspoken advocate on behalf of the Jews. His efforts to help a group of Jews escape to Switzerland were what first led to his arrest and imprisonment in the spring 1943. (1)

Bonhoeffer’s willingness to take the cup of suffering—suffering that often didn’t make sense and certainly wasn’t merited or deserved—and to turn it to prayer is exemplary. While I object strongly to the notion that God doles out suffering to test us, I do believe that our choices and actions deeply affect our lives and those of others around us. Sometimes the cup of suffering is wrongly handed to us (as it was in the case of Job), sometimes we bring it upon ourselves, and sometimes it is our lot to figure out what to do with it. Regardless how the cup of suffering ends up in our hands—by our own doing or by the doings of others—we have to trust in God’s mercy and presence.

Somehow Bonhoeffer managed to remember God’s graciousness throughout his imprisonment. He held fast to God’s presence. His words echo those of an unknown Jew found in a Cologne, Germany cellar after the Allied Liberation:

I believe in the sun 

even when it’s not shining,

I believe in love

even when feeling it not

I believe in God

even when He is silent.

Even on those days when we hold a bitter cup of suffering and it is hard to find God, we must remember that there is another cup that we hold. And that cup contains the Blood of Christ, the cup of salvation. Every time we gather together for eucharist, we offer up to God our suffering and in return, God gives back to us hope, life and reconciliation. Communion enables us to take the bitter cup and not give up.

In addition, we have the laying on of hands. Today is the feast day of Saint Luke the Physician and Evangelist. The church prays today that it might continue in love and the power to heal. In recognition of the importance of Luke and the power of the laying on of hands, this morning you are invited to come forward after the announcements just before the offertory sentence bringing whatever concerns you might have and offering them to God and to receive laying on of hands as the outward sign of God’s grace working within you.

As Bonhoeffer wrote of God’s mercy, ‘We shall remember all the days we lived through, and our whole life shall then be yours alone’ … as it has always been.

END NOTES
(1) The Hymnal Companion, volume Three B, Raymond Glover, ed. (New York, NY: The Church Hymnal Corporation, 1994), 1299, and from www.dbonhoeffer.org.

About two dozen people came forward at both services for laying on of hands.

Proper 23B

Years and years ago I used to play the carillon at my college in what I called my Quasimodo act. Carillons are not your rank and file instrument — they are anywhere from two to four dozen bells, sometimes even more, way up in a tower. If you have been to the Netherlands Carillon in Arlington Cemetery, you may have heard it. Vermont has two: Norwich University and Middlebury College. Carillons can sound out of tune — beyond the actual note called prime, one hears overtones of an octave, fifth, minor third, all of which emphasise the prime. One quickly learns when playing a carillon not to muddy the sound. While one can play a bunch of notes at the same time, the resultant sound can be a mess because of all the overtones for each note. I found that classical guitar music was well suited to the carillon and stuck to that repertoire though, as my grand finale at college, I played Tubular Bells.

The collection of readings this morning have lots of overtones and sound somewhat like that muddy mess of noise when put all together. However, each note sounding on its own makes a little more sense. In order to focus on the prime note, the gospel, I have got unpack a little the overtones.

The collects at this time of year ask repeatedly for God’s grace. It is as though we need more and more to focus on that gift as we move to All Saints’ tide and then through the apocalyptic readings that always show up in the waning weeks of the church year (right around Thanksgiving!).

Job’s lament, from which we have been hearing the past couple of weeks, evokes the despair of being challenged by God. Job’s complaint shows up in part in our burial office in the words, ‘I know that my Redeemer lives.’ Still, there is an overtone of despair and death to this morning’s selection.

Psalm 22 throws us immediately back to Maundy Thursday at the moment of stripping the altar and washing it and then again to Good Friday when we pray it in its usual place in the liturgy. This overtone is particularly strong for me because the words always evoke a darkened church and the even darker night of the soul as we enter into the passion.

The Letter to the Hebrews continues to discuss the great high priest, Jesus. But the opening words of this lesson bring to mind the icon of Saint Paul, an open book, the Bible, with a sword lying in the middle of it. How has the word of God pierced your soul from spirit?

Finally, having discharged all the overtones, we arrive at the prime, the gospel. Funny how the lectionary conveniently places this reading about sacrifice in and around the time of year when we begin to discuss our budget!
Taken in total, there’s a lot about letting go to be freed.

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The man who comes to Jesus asking questions of eternal life is the first-century equivalent of the many packrats and people possessed by possessions.

Many people call this story ‘The Rich Young Ruler,’ but there is nothing in Mark’s account that point to the man being either young or a ruler. It’s probably because people are conflating Matthew (where he is young) and Luke (where he is a ruler). Evidently he is someone who has a lot of money but who also is very religious. He understands that his wealth is a sign of God’s favour. He really tries to be faithful: since his youth he has kept all the commandments that Jesus reels off (including a new one about not committing fraud). We should not think he is evil or self-righteous — it would seem he is trying to do his best and realises he is not quite there yet. As the story advances, we see that he will never arrive.

When Jesus invites him to give everything away and follow him, the man refuses, saying he cannot. He comes so close to accepting the invitation to enter the abundant life. He wants to say yes — he even grieves his inability to say yes — but he just cannot let go of his wealth.

Jesus also grieves the man’s inability to let go of all the stuff that holds him prisoner. In an exceptionally rare use of the word, ‘love,’ Mark’s Jesus loves the man standing in front on him, perhaps wishing that his love could set him free. If only the man who had been faithful elsewhere in his life could trust in God’s abundance… all would be well.

We live, you and I, so often with a theology or spirituality of scarcity. God’s gifts are pie-like, and there are only so many slices. In our culture, the responsible person looks out, first of all, for one’s own. We save, protect, insure, and when we share we do so much of the time with fear and caution because there is only just so much to go around.
This story is about a theology or spirituality of abundance. The world’s problem is not that of scarcity. Our spiritual life is not about being sure we have enough. In God’s economy and world there is always enough, and much to spare. This is true both materially and spiritually. Yet, as the rich man is unable to understand, one can survive when one lets go and lets God.

What the gospel really asks us this morning is where our treasure is. Where are our priorities in life? How well do we do with stewardship of the gifts God has given us? How well do we trust in God’s abundance?

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When I do a personal inventory, my head and even my heart know just how fortunate I am. The daughter of depression-era parents, I have turned out to be a packrat (you never know when that left-over whatsit will be useful). I know I have far more than I could ever use. I come from a long heritage of packrats, ‘collectors’ in more polite terms. As I talk with my sister and brother, I realize we are all collectors and not thrower-outers. Stuff runs my life as it seems to for other members in my family of origin.

I am grateful to have a very comfortable roof over my head, a vocation and a place in this economy. I know that my education will always serve me and that I probably will always be employed.

When I am honest, I also know how my material stuff holds me prisoner. I have not followed Jesus to the utmost ends of the earth because I don’t know how I’d unload it all or what I would do with my cats. My true vocation has been reined in by my materialism. One of my life tasks, like the rich man in the gospel, is to find the grace to be able to let go of stuff and not worry about whether I have enough because I know I already do and then some.

There are moments of clarity, such as when I lived in one room for six weeks in El Salvador during my sabbatical. It was quite refreshing, but I also knew I would be coming back to Vermont. Walking the Camino de Santiago and the Long Trail has also shown me that I am capable of surviving with only one change of clothes and very little else. Again, my heart knows that it is a momentary experience and besides, it is romanticizing the harsh existence of 2/3rds of the world, who live in poverty and for whom life of minimalism is not chosen.

My head and my heart know that someday as I get closer to death, my world will shrink and I will not need everything I have right now. Some day, if I live out naturally the measure of my days, my world will consist of a room and eventually just a bed. It really is true I can’t take all this stuff with me. I know that, I’ve seen that enough times.

What I do know in my heart is I can always take with me the spirit of Jesus. And that is where the rich man and I both need to grow and trust. It’s simply a matter of stewardship, of living one’s life out in God’s abundance—not the world’s material abundance—and trusting. I realise how I am called to let go and how far I still have to journey.

Perhaps Saint Francis should have added to his prayer we said last week, ‘For it is in letting go of things, that we are set free.’ Well, even if it’s not there, I am adding that phrase to my prayer life.

Paradoxically, even as I am held captive by my stuff, I truly enjoy giving away money. Contributing to Trinity or Episcopal Relief and Development or Cristosal or CHABHA (a Vermont-based group that works with AIDS-orphans in Rwanda) or Pure Water for the World that builds wells in Haiti or the Appalachian Mountain Club or the Green Mountain Club or some other worthy charitable organization comes out of a deep sense of gratitude for all I do have. Giving of this sort is a joy, not a duty. It’s the closest I come to being freed of a scarcity mentality. I find each year as I do my taxes, that I have given more than I thought. It doesn’t hurt. So, in a way, I am giving away my treasures and it’s OK. I know there are many of you, too, who do likewise, with a generous heart.

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So I come back full circle to the overtones of this morning’s readings. As Job seeks God’s wisdom, so do I. The word of God is a double-edged sword as we hear Jesus’ hard teachings of giving up everything to follow him. But, as the collect in which we pray for God’s grace to help us do good works, so also we hear that ‘for God all things are possible.’ And that knowledge is very good news and rings true.

Evensong and Dedication of Organ

[All photos by Anne C. Brown]

On Friday, 9 October 2009, Trinity celebrated the conclusion of its organ rebuilding process and installation of a new antiphonal division in the gallery given in honour of Organist and Choir Director Emerita, Betty Clark.


Opening procession.


The choir sings its opening anthem.


Opening anthem.


Censing the newly blessed antiphonal division.


The postlude was played entirely on the antiphonal division and people automatically turned around to watch it (!). To the far left is Betty Clark and in the center left organ builder, Peter Walker.

Blessing of the Animals

All photos taken by Wendy Grace.

On Sunday 4 October, Trinitarians, two-legged and four-legged went to the Rutland County Humane Society shelter for the annual blessing of the Animals. About 35 people attended. The majority of pets blessed were dogs, though there were two brave cats in attendance.


Shadow is held by her person, Sally.


Kit with one of her companions.


The crowd at prayer.


The tent was not necessary, hooray.


Blessing a big furry dog.


Blessing some smaller canines.


More dogs!


Sue, Kit and Brenda.