October 30. 2024

As I write in the pre-dawn darkness, I am so grateful for this community of Holy Family. The services and festive stewardship kickoff gathering on Sunday were wonderful and were the result of the good and creative work of so many. A deep bow of gratitude to Loran and her team for a fantastic event. I am so very grateful for their energy, vision, and the necessary leadership to see that vision through to reality! As the old song goes, “There’s a sweet, sweet spirit in this place.” Indeed, there is, and I am so very proud of and grateful for each of you. 

And thank you to Jacques and his team (Tony Militello, Terry Nicholson, Bruce Elliot, Andy Edwards, and all who jumped in to help!) for such a bountiful repast, done with excellence, grace, and hospitality! Wow! Laissez les bons temps rouler!

Jim Braley’s stewardship message during the worship services was spot on and set just the right tone for the next phase in our efforts. Thank you, Jim!

In this season of giving at Holy Family, let’s promise, one to another, to remember that we are all leaders by virtue of our Baptismal Covenant. Leaders come in many forms and are based on our awareness of our gifts and graces. Among the most distinguishing characteristics of leaders is a willingness to give of themselves considering these gifts and abilities. Indeed, our own Holy Family has a long history of engagement in the community, I am reminded of this lovely poem by Wendell Berry, appropriate as we approach the Feast of All Saints:

There is No Going Back

– Wendell Berry

No, no, there is no going back.

Less and less you are

that possibility you were.

More and more you have become

those lives and deaths

that have belonged to you.

You have become a sort of grave

containing much that was

and is no more in time, beloved

then, now, and always.

And so you have become a sort of tree

standing over a grave.

Now more than ever you can be

generous toward each day

that comes, young, to disappear

forever, and yet remain

unaging in the mind.

Every day you have less reason

not to give yourself away.

While widely different in expression, the power of giving back is evident in our own community. One need only look around to see the Spirit of giving manifest in so many ways, from so many committees and individual parishioners who are contributing: from shaping our vision moving forward (“Lay led; clergy supported”) and countless individual acts of helping others and contributing to the ongoing life of the parish. These volunteers selflessly share expertise, time and talent to make our congregation all that it is. This connection to purpose and making a difference is rooted in our DNA as leaders…and again, each of us is called to lead!  

Most striking is the effect giving back has on us. One might argue we do this for others and for the good of our community, but as it turns out, it is also good for us. In fact, there is some evidence that links these acts to improved well-being, including better physical and mental health. A recent study found that those who volunteer reported lower blood pressure and stress levels, less depression and higher self-esteem. A separate study found that people 55 and older who volunteered for two or more organizations were 44% less likely to die over a five-year period than those who didn’t volunteer—even accounting for such factors as age, exercise and general health. Research also has shown that generosity provides psychological benefits by stimulating parts of the brain associated with empathy and happiness. Compassion, empathy, and gratitude can be cultivated, and can change our neural pathways and neurochemistry

https://www.forbes.com/sites/traversmark/2024/05/22/a-psychologist-explains-how-to-hack-your-brains-gratitude-circuit/

Giving back also encourages others to do the same. Instilling and sharing this part of us connects us and nurtures us as a leadership community. As we approach the season of giving and reflect on the year, let us also reflect on the power of giving back and how it can fuel and inspire us. Fostering this in others may be one of the most meaningful and enduring steps we can take as leaders. Be sure to thank those on the Nominating Committee who, led by Steve Franzen and Martha Power, have worked tirelessly to prepare us to call our next rector. And remember that each prospective candidate will take a close look at our financial well-being!

As such, leadership by giving back is a form of what theologian Merleau-Ponty called “intertwinement“–cultivating and adopting an ‘attentiveness and wonder’ towards the world. And our intertwinement with others extends, equally, to our relationship with the natural world – a theme that theologian Merleau-Ponty was increasingly drawn towards in his later writings. Gabriel Marcel referred to this as disponibilite’ –loosely translated as spiritual “availability”, or an openness to the other, readiness to respond with some measure of specific actions—giving among them.

So, look around Holy Family in the coming weeks, and look for opportunities to give of time, talent, and money. Consider joining a committee, or the choir, and pick up one of the wonderful new Holy Family shirts, hats, and hoodies. Wear them around the community with pride! Join us on Friday evening for the lovely and inspiring Rutter All Saints service. Let these words from 2 Corinthians (9:6-8) inform your own choices about leadership: “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” As Jesus reminded us, he came so that we might have life and have it abundantly. I pray that for each of us, giving back can be one measure of abundant life. After all, “every day we have less reason not to give ourselves away”!

As Advent approaches, a season of watching, waiting, and hopeful anticipation, let’s be leaders together toward the common goal of strengthening Holy Family, and co-creating the next chapter of our lives together in this sacred place. Remember this week to exercise your sacred right to vote, keeping in mind our core Baptismal covenant to go in peace, and respect the dignity of every human being.

I’ll catch you later down the trail, and I hope to see you in church!

Blessings, Bill+

October 27, 2024

23rd Sunday after Pentecost – Ted Hackett

Lessons 10: 6-27

Job and Evil

The last four Sunday’s Hebrew Bible readings have been from the Book of Job.

In those four readings we have pretty well covered the Book …

Hebrew Scriptures…our Old Testament…

Have four parts…

The Law…the first 5 books, the Prophets, and then pretty much everything else … called the “Wisdom Literature”…

Wisdom contains a lot of good sage advice about how to live….plus some stuff that doesn’t fit any particular category.

The Book of Job goes here.

You all know poor Job…and the saying : “The patience of Job”…and of course we have read selections from it over the past four weeks.

So basically…you know the story…

but let’s review…

It’s a very theological story!

Job is a good and righteous man…

He is generous…supporting widows and poor people…making civic gifts..

He is so well respected that when he goes to sit among the men of the community where they gather by the front gate of the city…that the other men do not speak…out of respect.

And Job was very prosperous…

Property, crops, livestock, Sons and Daughters

 And in his time and place…

According to orthodox theology…

Such success was proof of his righteousness…

A leader, a philanthropist…

Respected by all…

Job had everything…

And he deserved it!

Meanwhile…

In Heaven, God is sitting in his omnipotent majesty…

Looking down on Job with some pride!

Job is pretty much what God intended us to be…faithful and righteous.

But then…the plot complicates…

In comes Satan…

Satan….the “adversary”…the “accuser”.

Now, you may ask: what is Satan doing in Heaven… 

And how come he and God seem like pals?

Good question…

No one seems to have come up with a good answer as to why evil exists…

Why God allows it to exist…certainly I don’t!

But…there it is…

Evil is a reality!

Well…Satan has been, he says, patrolling earth…

Checking things out.

God asks if he has observed Job…

God is proud of him…he’s so good!

Satan says: “Of course he’s good…why shouldn’t he be…You’ve given him everything!” “But”, says conniving Satan… “take away his prosperity and he will curse you!”

God takes the bait…

He’ll strike him with all kinds of misfortune and bet Job will remain faithful.

And he does!

To make a long story short…

Job does not curse God in his misfortune…

Satan insists…hit him with more misfortune…

Take away everything except his life!

In this long agonizing process…Job’s friends and even his wife…give him advice…

The leading theory offered to Job is that he must be hiding some secret sin…

God knows about it and Job must confess! 

But Job is truthful…

He is not hiding a secret sin!

Even Job’s wife…who is tired of his misery…

Tells him: “Go ahead…Curse God and die!”

But Job has too much integrity to do that!

So, sitting on a dung-heap, in misery, scraping scabs off his body with a potsherd…

He dares God to meet face-to-face…

He asks God to explain his unjust suffering.

Now, Job is speaking for all humanity….

WHY IS THERE UNDESERVED SUFFERING? Why are innocent Palestinians and Jews dying?

Why are children starving?

Why do corrupt politicians get power and grind down the needy?…

For that matter…why are there natural disasters?

Earthquakes, forest fires, landslides, plagues…

Only part of this can be laid at the feet of such as humans misusing nature…

Job is wrestling with the problem Dostoevsky put this way: “The death of one innocent child refutes the goodness of God!”

So Job challenges God to a face-to-face meeting…

And surprise!…God agrees…which is unusual!

But when God appears…what happens?

God makes a power-play!

Who is Job… measly, powerless, just human, Job?

Did Job create the mighty seas?

The stars…sun, moon?

The vast array of animals and the

Other miracles of nature?

Next to God, Job is a puny moment.

Next to God…

Humans are like dust!

And of course, confronted with the infinite, omniscient power and majesty of God…

Confronted with glory of God…

Poor human Job cannot stand…

How does one argue with the omniscient creator and sustainer of all that is or ever will be?…

There is no way…

Job caves in and says:

“I see you and I repent in dust and ashes!”

God has pulled a power-play and simply overwhelmed poor Job…

But notice….Job has never retracted his complaint…

Job has submitted to power…

But he has not taken back his accusations…

He has been treated unjustly.

The final act of the Book of Job has God restoring him with even more goodies than he had before…more animals, more crops more children and more public esteem…

Seems it is “happily ever after”ending…

The idea is, God is fair and just after all…

Though I wonder about those dead innocent family members…

But probably a scribe added this ending to square with the theology of the time

Probably the original left things up in the air…or there may have been a less “Happy ever after” ending.

But the question in Job…which is our question too   is not answered…

How is it that bad things happen to good people?

That innocent children are bombed and their parents maimed or killed?

Job’s God has no personal experience of the plight of we little human beings…Of a mourning Jewish or Palestinian mother…

But Jesus was different…

God may have been moved by Job’s argument…and decided to share our human experience.    

We know he changed his mind and healed an unclean Gentile child.

Because he had compassion…

God changed God’s mind!

Think of it…

God changes the Divine Mind.

Of course in the Hebrew scriptures, God changes his mind all the time…

For instance when God is angry at Israel sometimes someone like Moses cleverly talks him out of destroying his people…

It happens several times…

God even repents…spares wicked Nineveh for instance…

But in most of the Old Testament God still acts like an all-powerful dictator.

But something happened around the time of later Judaism…

Around the time of Jesus…

God….who had been the omniotent ruler of all…

God…who conceived, created and sustains all that is or ever will be…

God who is infinite and above all the messiness of human life…

Decided…maybe after his encounter with Job…

Decided he really could not fully understand us…

Could not understand we humans…from the infinite distance of eternity…

So God….became incarnate from a human Mother…

For us humans and our salvation…

Became one of us….became human!

As Paul says:

“Emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born human…”

And then…He suffered and died…

Pinned to a criminal’s cross for hours of agony…

God knew…

God lived though human pain and doubt and fear…

And God…I dare say it.

God died our human death!  

So now there is nothing in our experience which God does not know from God’s own experience!

So…then…

Why doesn’t God “fix” it and get rid of sin and suffering and death?

I don’t know…

No one does I suspect…

But we do have a promise…

A promise from one who knows…personally…

What it is to suffer helplessly…

To die our death…                  

But then…to rise victorious…

God died a human…a human like you and me…

In order that we might become like Him…

And live forever in the fullness of love!

So now even in the face of death…

We can sing: “Alleluia! Alleluia….Alleluia!

October 23, 2024

Many years ago, while a Postulant at Holy Family, I was invited by Pete Cook to drive to a Dahlonega tree farm for “a few maple seedlings.” Pete knew the owner, who gave us a good price for a particular hybrid maple he admired. Over the next several weeks we planted the trees that now line our parking area, so lovingly cared for by our indomitable grounds crew. Now those trees are turning many lovely shades of red, orange, and yellow. Autumn arrives slowly here in the Southern Appalachians, and I delight in the subtle changes in the woods this time of year. A walk on the trails reveals lovely vistas, but the earth beneath our feet is revelatory as well. An ancient oak, split in half by recent storms, now presents a window on the world of deep fungal connections we seldom see. The forest is indeed alive, and as it turns out, we are more fully alive in the forest:

https://www.outsideonline.com/health/wellness/take-two-hours-pine-forest-and-call-me-morning/

Once we begin to pay attention in relation to this, as in so many things, our perspectives can change. As the poet Robert Frost said,

“We dance round in a ring and suppose,

But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.”

And Carl Jung reminds us that our cathedrals and the Nave of our own lovely Holy Family, are not the only sacred spaces: “Nature is not matter only. She is also spirit.”  

In recent weeks we have begun gathering on the first Wednesday of the month for a healing service in the chapel at noon. We assemble quietly for the Eucharist and the gifts offered there, yes, but to me, relationships are the main reason we gather. I have been so moved by the connections we are creating, both through the liturgy and as we break bread together after the service, with stories, laughter, and even our sacred silences. I am so very grateful for this Holy Family community. And I am grateful that some of those in attendance, unable to be present on Sunday, are able to join us.

Nature, too, understands the mutuality of shared, sacred space, and how communication occurs at levels often unseen. The author Robert Macfarlane writes that the world beneath our feet is also filled with wonder:

The term ‘mycorrhiza’ is made from the Greek words for ‘fungus’ and ‘root’. It is itself a collaboration or entanglement; and as such a reminder of how language has its own sunken system of roots and hyphae, through which meaning is shared and traded. The relationship between mycorrhizal fungi and the plants they connect is ancient – around 450 million years old – and largely one of mutualism. In the case of the tree–fungi mutualism, the fungi siphon off carbon that has been produced in the form of glucose by the trees during photosynthesis, by means of chlorophyll that the fungi do not possess. In turn, the trees obtain nutrients such as phosphorus and nitrogen that the fungi have acquired from the soil through which they grow, by means of enzymes that the trees lack il through which they grow, by means of enzymes that the trees lack.”

Several years ago, my cohort of graduate school friends read The Overstory, by Richard Powers. A deeper awareness of the life of trees is among the gifts we found in this remarkable novel:

“We found that trees could communicate, over the air and through their roots. Common sense hooted us down. We found that trees take care of each other. Collective science dismissed the idea. Outsiders discovered how seeds remember the seasons of their childhood and set buds accordingly. Outsiders discovered that trees sense the presence of other nearby life. That a tree learns to save water. That trees feed their young and synchronize their masts and bank resources and warn kin and send out signals to wasps to come and save them from attacks. “Here’s a little outsider information, and you can wait for it to be confirmed. A forest knows things. They wire themselves up underground. There are brains down there, ones our own brains aren’t shaped to see. Root plasticity, solving problems and making decisions. Fungal synapses. What else do you want to call it? Link enough trees together, and a forest grows aware.”

~Richard Powers, The Overstory

Recently I arrived at church early on Sunday morning to sit in silence before services began. I was aware of the deep layers of experience we share each morning, both in the liturgy and in the relationships shared each week. Like the trees in Powers’ novel, there is a mystery at profound levels in the coming together to worship, share grace and hospitality, and go back out into the world to love and serve the Lord, respecting the dignity of every human being. Indeed, even the smallest gestures we share having participated in the Eucharist and rejoicing in the power of the Spirit allow us to flourish, even as we inspire others to go and do likewise.

“Trees know when we are close by. The chemistry of their roots and the perfumes of their leaves pump out change when we’re near…when you feel good after a walk in the woods, it may be that certain species are bribing you…What we care for, we will grow to resemble. And what we resemble will hold us, when we are us no longer.” ― Richard Powers, The Overstory

October 20, 2024

22nd Sunday After Pentecost – Byron Tindall

They just didn’t get it, again for the umpteenth time.

Zebedee’s sons, James and John, indicate what kind of kingdom they are expecting when Jesus takes over the leadership of that kingdom. “…and they said to him, ‘Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.’”

The place of honor at a ruler’s court at that time was just to the right and left of where the ruler sat. It seems like James and John were expecting Jesus to come back as some type of political ruler or a leader who would be recognized as such by the way his court was organized.

“But Jesus said to them, ‘You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?’”

The brothers agreed that they were capable of following Jesus down that road and told him so.

About this time, the other 10 disciples got wind of the conversation that was going on between Jesus, James and John. They got a little miffed.

Jesus called the 12 to come to a meeting where he tried to explain to them that his kingdom was unlike any other kingdom ever seen on earth. They just didn’t get it.

Matthew and Luke report similar incidents in their Gospels. John makes no mention of this exchange between Jesus and his disciples. Interestingly enough, Matthew has the request to sit on either side of Jesus coming from James’s and John’s mother.

This exchange between Jesus and the 12 amounted to one of the passion announcements.

When we stop and think about it for a minute, James and John, along with Peter, are the most often mentioned of the disciples in all four of the Gospels.

We have another announcement of the Passion of Jesus earlier in Mark.

In Chapter 8, verses 30-38, Mark wrote: “Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, ‘Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’

“He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For 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. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.’”

This time, the main character who was confused was Peter. Peter, just like the rest of them, just didn’t get it.

The so-called passion announcements are not the only time the followers of Jesus didn’t understand what he was attempting to tell and teach his followers.

On more than one occasion in the Gospels, Jesus had to take his disciples aside to explain to them what he was saying in one of his parables. Sometimes even then they just didn’t get it.

Misunderstanding Jesus is not limited to the 12 either.

In the Third Chapter of John’s Gospel, we find the exchange between Jesus and a Pharisee named Nicodemus who was also a member of the Jewish Council.

After hearing Jesus answer his question, Nicodemus replied, “How is this possible?” After the explanation of his answer, Nicodemus once again asked, “How is this possible?” He just didn’t get it.

Using parables to get a point across can be risky, as parables can be understood on many levels at the same time. The message may not necessarily come through the same way on the different levels. People hear the same message differently.

It’s a lot like the difference between a sign and a symbol.

For those of us with drivers’ licenses, when we come to an eight-sided sign with white lettering on a red background, we know we are supposed to come to a complete stop. I have to admit, however, there are those who respond to this sign by slowing down a bit and continuing on through the intersection. These signs are supposed to mean stop, not just slow down.

I have a collection of crosses I wear, mostly on Sundays. For me, they are a symbol of my belief and faith. For others, a cross is a pretty piece of jewelry with no indication of anything else. Either meaning is acceptable.

That eight-sided sign is supposed to have a universal meaning. A cross on a chain can be understood on many levels.

But I digress a little.

In the Baptismal Covenant in the Book of Common Prayer, the celebrant and people in the congregation engage in an exchange, which goes, in part:

Celebrant: Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers ?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

People: I will, with God’s help.

Celebrant: Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

People: I will, with God’s help.

The way I read and understand this, following Jesus does not just mean giving up an hour or so once a week to come together to worship him. It’s a 24/7 commitment, but sometimes we just don’t get it.

In a little over two weeks, we should exercise our right and responsibility to vote for the next President and Vice President of the United States. I’m not going to tell you for whom you should vote. I ask you to remember your commitment to follow Jesus when you mark your ballot.

The expression goes, “If you don’t vote on Tuesday, you don’t have the right to complain on Wednesday.” Sometimes, we just don’t get it.

October 16, 2024

One of the things Jung taught was that the human psyche is the mediation point for God. If God wants to speak to us, God usually speaks in words that first feel like our own thoughts. As Rohr asks, “How else could God come to us? We have to be taught how to honor and allow that, how to give it authority, and to recognize that sometimes our thoughts are God’s thoughts. Contemplation helps train such awareness in us. The dualistic or non-contemplative mind cannot imagine how both could be true at the same time. The contemplative mind sees things in wholes and not in divided parts.”

In an account written several years before his death, Jung described his early sense that ‘Nobody could rob me of the conviction that it was enjoined upon me to do what God wanted and not what I wanted. That gave me the strength to go my own way.’

As Rohr reminds us, we all must find an inner authority that we can trust that is bigger than our own. This way, we know it’s not only us thinking these thoughts. When we can trust God directly, it balances out the almost exclusive reliance on external authority (Scripture for Protestants; Tradition for Catholics). Much of what passes as religion is external to the self, top-down religion, operating from the outside in. Carl Jung wanted to teach people to honor religious symbols, but from the inside out. He wanted people to recognize those numinous voices already in our deepest depths. Without deep contact with one’s in-depth, authentic self, Jung believed one could not know God. That’s not just Jungian psychology. “Wisdom of the Women Mystics,” one among our current Christian Education classes meets Monday evenings from 7 to 8 pm. This is a women’s Christian Education class designed to acquaint us with writings from medieval Christian women who were dedicated to serving God by caring for others and by recording their insights and hopes. And they are doing the very kind of discernment Jung encouraged us to do!

The Adult Education Committee has also begun reading Richard Rohr’s Jesus’ Alternative Plan – The Sermon on the Mount. Rohr writes that Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount is “considered the blueprint for the Christian lifestyle.” Rohr believes that the “secret to understanding the Sermon on the mount is to understand what Jesus intended when he preached it.” Rohr’s goal is to “delve into the language of religion and emerge with a clearer understanding of the Sermon on the Mount, the Nazarene rabbi who preached it, and the Gospel writers, especially Matthew, who passed it on to us.” Rohr is a Franciscan priest and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation, and he, too, is engaged in the kind of spiritual discernment Jung encouraged. Similar teachers include Augustine, Thérèse of Lisieux, Lady Julian of Norwich, Meister Eckhart, and Francis of Assisi.

Wherever you are on your spiritual journey I hope you will explore both your own, inner voice, and the community of faith that is Holy Family! Options for doing so are many, and best done with companions on the way. I’ll catch you later down the trail, and I hope to see you in church!

Bill+

October 9, 2024

“Grief and loss that are not transformed, get transmitted. We need others to walk beside us during time of loss to assist us on that journey of transforming our grief.” ~ Rabbi Edwin Friedman

On Monday of this week, after a challenging session with a patient who has experienced significant losses and is doing sacred, good grief work, I recalled the words of Rabbi Friedman in a lecture at Vanderbilt. He is correct, of course. Sometimes we need to widen the circle of care, and this can take many forms. Indeed, one need not be ordained, or a licensed clinician to sit with another in that liminal space of hospitality, compassion, and relationship. After my session on Monday, I walked into the nave of the Cathedral, sat in the sacred silence, and offered a prayer for my patient and her family. When I rose from the pew and began my trek back to the counseling center, I saw the beautiful light, refracted through the stained glass of the windows, reflected on the cathedral pillars. I was comforted by this, and reminded that the sacred can take many forms, and like the Holy Spirit who can surprise us with the gift of Her presence, sometimes is there all along. And I was reminded that we do not have to do this work alone.

Among the topics I have written about during my years as a professor is “resilience,” of which Fr. Richard Rohr has said, “I believe resilience is the secular word for faith — the ability to trust and let go.” I agree, and resilience can be enhanced in relationships of care, compassion, and intentional acts of grace. We recall these lovely words from 2 Corinthians 4:7:

7But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. 8We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. 11For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. 12So death is at work in us, but life in you. 

We know that resilience, bouncing back from change, adversity, and adapting and flourishing in the “new normal,” through thoughts, behaviors, and actions can be learned, cultivated, and developed. It is an alternative to “pathology based” assessments and theory. Cultivating resilience can change our neural pathways and neurochemistry (neuroplasticity. And resilience transcends disciplines, and has applications in engineering, ecology, medicine, finance, leadership, and religion. Cultivating resilience can change mind, body, and spirit.

Resilience is often born amid adversity, as the poet David Whyte has said so well:

“Disappointment is a friend to transformation, a call to both accuracy and generosity in the assessment of our self and others, a test of sincerity and a catalyst of resilience. It is the initial meeting with the frontier of an evolving life…an invitation to reality… and the measure of our courage.”

Regardless of the source of our disappointment, grief, or loss, we often need others to sit with us in that sacred space, without needing to “fix” whatever has been broken or is hurting. The relationship is what is most important. In the next few weeks, we will be exploring the possibility of creating a Community of Hope lay pastoral care group here at Holy Family. Here’s more about COHI:

“Community of Hope International equips lay people to serve in all forms of pastoral care. Pastoral care is when a person is being “present” in a listening, compassionate, non-controlling manner to an individual or group for the purpose of consciously or unconsciously representing God to them and seeking to respond to their spiritual needs….Through ongoing, spiritual formation and practical lessons on caregiving, members learn to match theological insights and spiritual practices with their experiences of ministering to others and giving spiritual guidance. The fourteen modules used in training cover topics both theoretical and practical, ranging from teaching participants the tenets of Benedictine Spirituality to practical instruction to be used while on a pastoral care visit. It is COHI’s goal that this training awaken participants to God’s call on their lives by discovering and understanding their spiritual gifts for ministry.”  

Increasingly, dear ones, we in the Episcopal Church will need to cultivate a “lay-led, clergy-supported” ethos, with practical applications of how this might be done. I believe that COHI is one way of enhancing lay pastoral care, a topic deeply important to me. Several of you have expressed an interest in participating in this program, and there will be a COHI conference at Montreat Conference Center in 2025. Please do let me know if you have questions about this and if you are interested in learning more! We will need more persons willing to give of themselves in this way as we adjust to changes in mainline Protestantism, and in our own lovely parish.

I returned to my office at the counseling center on Monday renewed in spirit, and reminded of my own calling to a sense of joy and wonder; respect the dignity of every human being; cultivate a spirit to know and love God; have an inquiring and discerning heart; and find the courage to will and to persevere. These are qualities for which we pray in our Baptismal Covenant, and they are also faithful attributes of resilience, or faith in action! They are ways of becoming more fully alive, as we move along on our journey in faith. Transforming grief is sacred work, and best not done alone.

“Don’t ask only what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” ~ Howard Thurman

Vicky and I depart for Zurich later this week, and then on to Paris to join family there. I look forward to seeing you in church when we return on the 27th, and I’ll catch you later on down the trail.

Blessings, Bill+

October 13, 2024

21st Sunday after PentecostTed Hackett

Today’s Gospel reading from Mark sounds pretty…

Well…pretty tough. Let’s look at it with some care.

As often happens…Jesus is about to hit the road…

He seems to have pretty much lived on the road with his disciples… stopping at villages along the way to preach and get food and sleep.

So today he and his gang are setting out…

And first thing…a devout young man appears, falls down on his knees in front of Jesus and beseeches him…

“Good Rabbi… “What do I have to do to have eternal life”…

Jesus scolds him:

“Don’t call me good…only God is good!”

Oops! Not a good start!

But then Jesus speaks to him in a kindly way…

“you know the ten commandments…”

And he recites three of them…

Interestingly…the three relate to how we treat each other and don’t mention God.

I’ve never known what to make of that…

But then, Jesus often baffles me…

But anyway…the young man says: “Rabbi…I have kept the Commandments all my life…”  

I doubt that anyone of us could make that claim…to have kept all ten commandments all our lives! How about never coveting a possession of a friend?

Even as a kid?

Boy! Did I ever covet Billy White’s new sled!

Wow!!!

And Jesus is impressed…

he looked at him…. and loved him…

There is something else to earn eternal life…

Sell all you have…and come follow me!

Oops!

That is a knockout punch…

The young man had many posessions…

There was no law against that…

The young man is devastated!

How would he live?

What would his friends think?

And his Father and mother?

Leave his life and his community?

It was too much to ask…

Jesus had gut-punched him…

First there was amazement…

And then an empty grief…

And he got up without looking at Jesus…

And with his head down…

He went away…

Grieving…           

And Jesus turned to his disciples and said:

“How hard it will be for those who have wealth   to enter the Kingdom of God.”                             

Throughout Christian history, lots of people have grappled with this text. Many, like St. Francis,   have taken it literally and lived lives of extreme poverty…

Others have decided to live frugally and gave away what they didn’t need for a comfortable life…

And many of us walk around with a secret guilt that we aren’t really living as Christians since we don’t sacrifice enough.

And Jesus seems to be saying that we are right…

It’s as hard for someone who has accumulated wealth and has kept it as it is for a camel to get through the eye of a needle…

In other words…not good odds.

The disciples are dumbfounded…

If that’s true…what are we doing out here on the road preaching the nearness of the Kingdom of God?

If this is true…who can make it into the Kingdom of God?   

Then Jesus adds something…

Something pretty important…

In fact…something crucially important….

“For mortals it is impossible; but not for  God. For God all things are possible.”

In other words…we cannot save ourselves…only God can do that!

So there was a reason that when Jesus quoted only certain parts of the 10 Commandments to this young man when he first showed up, kneeling at his feet.

The parts Jesus quoted were…

Don’t murder…

Don’t commit adultery…

Don’t steal…

Don’t bear false witness…

 Don’t defraud…

Honor your father and mother.

That seems to be it…that’s all he quotes…

But notice something…

Jesus has selected certain of the Commandments…

And every one that he selected is about…

How you treat other people!

Don’t murder, steal, commit adultery, bear false witness or defraud…And honor your father and mother.

And…furthermore ….Don’t make it a big deal to make yourself look good…or to take credit…

God has given you what you have so that you may enjoy God’s creation…

And so that you may love others and help them!

Remember just a little while ago..

Jesus said: “Don’t call me good…only God is good!”

What is important here is to remember that we are…after all…creatures among millions of other creatures of God…just on this earth…

And literally God only knows what other living beings there are in this incalculably large universe we inhabit.

So we live in a paradox…

We are both transient, insignificant creatures…and we are children of God.

Those are hard to keep in mind…

On one hand we are pretty helpless…

Like the disciples who suddenly realized they could not save themselves any more than they could get a camel through the eye of needle…

But then discovered that…it didn’t matter…God could…and would…save them…would open God’s kingdom to them anyway…

So much of Jesus’ teaching is about forgetting yourself and forgetting about the barriers society puts up between us…

About what we need to do to be saved…

Then asking: “What does my neighbor need”…

And then asking: “Who is my neighbor?”

When we come to that question…we have to go to some other accounts of Jesus… 

Accounts of him eating with hated tax-collectors and protecting prostitutes…

His stories about the shepherd who loves the rebellious lamb…or the rebellious Prodigal Son…

All this is to say…

The young man in our story…

Was not ready to accept a hard thing…

What we are called to do as Christians is to first understand that we are loved…

Loved in spite of….

Maybe even loved, in some strange way …

Because of our imperfections…they are part of who we are…

Loves us even in spite of our sins…

God loves us…

And knows even our sins are part of who we are…       

So God loves us…

Sins and all…

So God loves us…even when we lack…

Even when we lack a lot …

Notice…Jesus did not bring up the subject of what more the young man had to do…

But Jesus sensed the young man wanted to know the next step…

So Jesus said… “well…if and when you are ready…sell all you have and come with us…”

The young man didn’t see that he didn’t have to sell all he had,

He’d really done enough…

Jesus looked at him and loved him…

As he was!

Back in the day when I was teaching…Bishop Tutu came to teach on the Theology faculty…he was there about four years…his office was next to mine.

I stepped out into the hall to ask him a question and realized he was walking with a student…

The student was agitated…plainly upset.                              

The Bishop had been talking about poverty in the third world…and the young man was distressed that he couldn’t do anything.

The Bishop listened very sympathetically… Then smiled that miraculous smile he had, a smile that lit up the room… and put his hand on the young man’s shoulder and said:

“Don’t worry my son…you have no idea how low God’s standards are!”

There standing before me was a small black man in a purple shirt…who was…for the moment…Jesus with the rich young man …

A young man who was told: “Do your best…and don’t worry about if it’s enough…it’s fine.”

The Bishop was saying God’s grace is enough to get you over the finish line!”

And that Tutu smile that said as words could not: 

“You are fine…

God loves you as you are… The Kingdom of God is here!”    

October 6, 2024

20th Sunday after Pentecost Proper 22, Year BBill Harkins

The Gospel: Matthew 11:25-30 Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

In the Name of the God of Creation who loves us all, Amen. Good morning, and welcome to each of you on this Feast of St. Francis a day on which we hear a surprisingly challenging Gospel text. And, we prepare for the blessing of the animals today we also give thanks in this season for All the Saints whose lives are intertwined with ours, often in ways we cannot see.

In today’s Gospel from Matthew we are reminded that some forms of wisdom cannot be obtained by working harder and harder for them. Knowledge of God, it seems, cannot be achieved through the ordinary means of excellence of effort or dent of perseverance as we typically understand both of these. I don’t know about you, but this perspective turns my normal ways of being and doing in the world upside down. Jesus has a way of doing that, of course, but it still catches me off guard. What might it mean if through hard work and my often “type A” behavior, I am sometimes missing the point Jesus is making and, perhaps, the main purpose of our lives as Christians? Can I really reconcile this part of me with the need to become more childlike in my faith?

And then in vs. 28-30 we find the lovely invitation to which these passages have been building, “Come to me all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest… for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” It is a wonderful metaphor, really, although in our part of the world we don’t often see yokes. The principle, however, is that of bearing burdens more efficiently, to harness the power of the animal or, in some cases the person carrying the load, and work together as a team. The second century author Justin Martyr said that when Jesus worked as a carpenter, he likely made yokes as part of his daily work. I like to imagine this. It is comforting, somehow, to imagine him carefully measuring and fitting the yoke so that it would fit just right—not rub or scrape the animals—and help them bear the burden of the plow or whatever they may have been pulling. I can see him sanding the rough spots, carefully fitting the yoke, making it a perfect complement to the animal, and the task at hand. Metaphorically speaking, Jesus invites us to take a yoke just like this, made by his own labor and love, perfectly and completely for us. He knows each of us by name, knows our gifts and graces, our needs and broken places. He does not want us to be weighed down or so weary that we cannot bear what we have been called to do.

It is a beautiful, utterly simple invitation, and yet so hard to do. So often Vicky, my wife of almost 31 years, has said “Why didn’t you ask for help with this?” or, “Why didn’t you let us know what you needed?” Perhaps this is connected to the other part of this Gospel text—the part about letting go of trying so hard to do things alone, and relying solely on our own alleged wisdom and intelligence. Over-functioning, once we learn it, can be very hard to change. I confess that I do not turn things over to God, or others, easily. And, I have trouble remembering that there are others standing by ready to help. I struggle to realize that I am likely at my best, and my strongest, when I ask for God’s help. Some time ago, my ordination brother Thee and I were on the hill atop the Horseshoe Drive entrance to the Cathedral for the “drive by blessings,” after the 11:15 service. It was an unusually warm day, and at about 1:00pm we were preparing to head inside when a lone woman leading 4 dogs on leashes slowly made her way up the driveway. Thee was engaged in blessing the ashes of a dog named “Wags,” whose owner was still grieving. The woman arrived atop the Cathedral Close completely out of breath after the long climb. “I almost didn’t come today,” she said, her mascara running in the late October sun. “I live in Snellville….and it’s a long way to drive. But this is my home…this is my family,” she said, nodding to her dogs who were already greeting me effusively. I consider the Cathedral to be my home. I am so thankful for this place.” Then, introducing me to her dogs one by one, she said, “These are all rescue dogs,” patting each one in turn, lovingly, saying their names. One was blind, and mostly deaf, and another had been thrown out of a car on Hwy#78, and barely survived. “Each of these dogs has a sad story, and needed a home. It’s been a hard couple of years for me too,” she said, tearfully.” “I lost my husband, and my home. These dogs are all I have left, but we do have each other, and I am so very grateful for that. I guess the truth is we all needed a blessing today.” “Maybe,” she said, “we bless each other along the way, especially when we are grateful. Maybe those blessings are how God continues to be present in our lives. I have learned to live from a place of gratitude,” she said tearfully. “It’s the place where all of our blessings go to live.” I found the pastoral counselor in me responding with compassion for, and a bit of concern about her, and I said “It’s so warm out here. Would you like to come inside for a cold drink of water,” I asked? “No thank you,” she said. “I’m not ready to go inside yet. For now, I’ll just take my blessings where I find them. And they are right here, right now.” I had the good sense to let this be enough to say grace over, and so I did just that. I have thought about this many times since then—and in particular about blessing, and gratitude, and giving from that deep place where we are most at home. And, I have come to realize that this is one of the ways God’s Creation continues to unfold, right here, right now, every moment of our lives.

In her wonderful novel, “Gilead,” the author Marilynne Robinson tells the story of Rev. John Ames, a dying Presbyterian minister writing to his young son, so that he will remember his story long after he is gone[1]. The book takes the form of an extended letter, really, and is itself a blessing of gratitude, and the generosity borne of gratitude. In one passage he recalls blessing a cat in his early days as a young pastor. This memory leads to an especially lovely passage:

“I still remember how those warm little brows felt under the palm of my hand. Everyone has petted a cat, but to touch one like that, with the pure intention of blessing it, is a very different thing. It stays in the mind. For years we would wonder what, from a cosmic viewpoint, we had done to them. It still seems to me to be a real question. There is a reality in blessing, which I take baptism to be, primarily. It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is a power in that. I have felt it pass through me, so to speak. The sensation of really knowing a creature, I mean really feeling its mysterious life and your own mysterious life at the same time.”  

That day, in the process of giving and receiving blessings with my friend and colleague Thee, I lost myself in the process, and I found a new way of seeing the world—shaped by gratitude. As the wonderful poet Mary Oliver has said: “And what do I risk to tell you this, which is all I know? Love yourself. Then forget it. Then love the world.” “Practice Resurrection,” the poet Wendell Berry reminds us. Come to me all you that are weary and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Amen. [1] Robinson, Marilynne, “Gilead,” Picador Press, 2006.

October 2, 2024

Dear Friends,

On Sunday, Pentecost +19 we bade farewell to our dear friend, brother, and Chief Verger Ric Sanchez. While we are sad to see him go, we are so very grateful for his time among us, and his years of devoted service, mentoring, good humor, and faithful gifts and graces to Holy Family. Here’s the prayer we prayed together on Sunday:

O God of abundance and light, you have bound us together for a time to work for the advancement of your beloved community in this place. We give you humble and heartfelt thanks for our ministry with this, your faithful servant Ric Sanchez, with whom we have shared in these years, in this sacred space. We give thanks for his good humor, and for his wisdom in all things liturgical; for his compassionate heart; and for his steadfast commitment to this, our Holy Family parish. Especially, we thank you for the loving care that surrounds us on every side, and for the never-failing reminder that you are with us even in our leave-taking of one another, and for the deeper knowledge of you and one another which we have attained in our time together. Thank you! Now, we pray, be with our dear friend Ric as he leaves for his new life in Tampa, and also with those who remain behind, and who will so miss the gift of his presence among us. Grant that each of us, by drawing ever nearer to you, may hold one another in our hearts, in the communion of your saints. Mi hermano Ricardo, vaya con Dios y con la bendicion de nosotros que amamos y que te estamos muy agradecidos. Te llevaremos en nuestros corazones, siempre. Buena suerte! All this we ask in the name of Jesus Christ, your son our Lord, and may the blessing of God our Father, Mother, the son, and the Holy Spirit be among us, and remain with us, always!

And, a deep bow of gratitude to the Hospitality Committee and a host of others who made possible the wonderful, festive reception following the service, and for Vicky Harkins’ lovely cake design

Blessings, dear ones. I’ll catch you later on down the trail, and I hope to see you in church!

Bill+

September 29, 2024

19th Sunday after Pentecost – Bill Harkins

Proper 21, Year B

The Collect of the Day

O God, you declare your almighty power chiefly in showing mercy and pity: Grant us the fullness of your grace, that we, running to obtain your promises, may become partakers of your heavenly treasure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Gospel: Mark 9:38-50

John said to Jesus, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.

“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched. “For everyone will be salted with fire. Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

“Water from a deeper well”

In the Name of the God of Creation, who loves us all, Amen. Good morning, and welcome to this service of Holy Eucharist on this 19th Sunday after Pentecost. It’s getting cooler now—that real down-home southern heat and humidity is mostly past—and the lovely days of fall are just ahead us. It’s been dry the past few weeks, but this weekend brought blessed relief in the form of a tropical depression, and we are reminded in Mark’s Gospel that when we give a drink of water in the Name of Jesus we do so on behalf of Him, and this is followed by at bit of homiletic hyperbole reminding us that we cannot be perfect, and that only in humility before children, and one another, are we whole in Christ. Moreover, the theme of water is a powerful metaphor, and there are many, many ways to give that cup of water to others, in compassionate response to suffering. This may take surprising forms if we are open to the possibilities for grace.

Even though fall is here, and the heat doesn’t have the same authority it does in summer, it’s been quite warm of late, and we runners will continue to hear the well-known refrain…stay hydrated, drink plenty of water, and when you think you’ve had enough, drink some more. Water is both essential to life, and is a powerful symbol in our faith, and that of many other belief systems. Water is so very precious in so many ways. Three-quarters of the Earth’s surface is covered with water, yet 98 percent is salt water and not fit for consumption. The human body is more than 60 percent water. Blood is 92 percent water, and our DNA contains a combination of stardust and the water of the oceans from which we came. The brain and muscles are 75 percent water, and bones are about 22 percent water. Water is mentioned some 350 times in the King James Bible, and it is from the waters of our Baptisms that we rise, like Jesus from the Jordan, transformed by the Spirit. Each year during the Peachtree Road Race we runners drink a lot of water, and we are blessed by Holy Water right outside the walls of the Cathedral where I served for 18 years and where I was ordained to the priesthood many years ago.

So for these reasons among others, I try to follow this good advice, and strive to drink plenty of water, and often carry it with me on the trails where I run. On a hot Saturday back a while back, I was on my familiar trail at Kennesaw Park, and it was one of those days of 90% humidity and 90 degrees. It is not unusual, once the school year has begun, for local high school cross—country teams to train there. I typically hear them coming up behind me, and they are generally very polite, and the lead runner will shout “On your left,” letting me know to move to the right to let them pass. On this day, I heard them coming, and, still running, I moved over, and heard the respectful request, and I was a bit chagrined to find that they passed me as if I were standing still. 12 or 15 runners flew by me in a colorful, rapidly departing blur, and left me in a cloud of Kennesaw Mountain dust. I stopped, and grabbed my water bottle, and took several big swallows, watching the runners disappear into the deep, Pentecost green woods. As I stood there, I had two thoughts. The first was, “When did middle-school girls get so fast?” And the second was, “This water is really good, but it cannot quench the thirst I’m really feeling now. For that, I need water from a deeper well,” water, that is, something like the God-given grace to accept that the days when I could, just maybe, have stayed with those fast runners is long gone, and will never return. I needed the water of grace, and resilience, and the wisdom to accept that things were changing in relation to a sport to which I’ve given much of my life.

I wonder, at times, when miracles occur in scripture, how these stories relate to our own life of faith. This is especially true when we are vulnerable—walking in darkness through harrowing times—when we are lost, and do not know where to turn, and we look for Jesus to provide the great miracle that will deliver us or those from whom we care, out of despair. Times, perhaps, when we do not know where we are going. Sometimes we get the deeply longed-for result when we pray—the mother of two young children whose cancer, against all odds, simply disappears; the father whose heart stops on the operating table is brought back from the brink of death; the relationship that seemed on the rocks is restored…and so on.  And then there are times when one’s best friend, a fiercely gifted runner, dies of melanoma at age 38, despite the prayers of so many. Or the young man whom one mentored for years dies in an accident his freshman year in college. And like the Psalms of lamentation, one wonders out loud where one might find water, and calm, in those stormy narratives. I get it. I’ve been there. I suspect many of you have, too. And yet, in proscribing the forms that miracles may take, we risk missing those moments when miracles may occur on a smaller scale. Moments, that is, when God’s compassion enters our most profound moments of vulnerability, and gives us glimpses of resurrection, and resilience, and hope. And hope is a good thing. It may be the very best of things. And water may be one of the forms these minor miracles of hope may take.   Liston Mills, my mentor and primary professor who taught faithfully at Vanderbilt for 40 years, once said to me, “William, over the course of your time with us you have studied a lot of psychological theory, and theology, and the integration of the two. But remember that sometimes the most and best we have to offer is being present, and creating hospitality. It’s like giving someone a cup of cold water on a hot day.” I thought about that often in the years that have since passed, and I have asked myself over and over what he was trying to tell me. I think it was something about grace, and humility, and compassion. Buddy Miller, a wonderful alt-country singer/songwriter in Nashville, wrote a fine tune in which he says:

I need a drink of something like water

I need a taste of love divine

Sometimes you just gotta do what you oughtta

Sometimes you bring up the water when the well is dry.

I think that my professor/mentor, and the author of Mark’s gospel, understood this. Small miracles can happen, even with a cup of cold water. Small acts of hospitality and compassion can make a difference far beyond what we imagine. With the help of the Holy Spirit they can transcend the limits of our spiritual imaginations. And when this happens, all are transformed. And this need not come from our positions of greatest strength. Rather, as the social science researcher Brene’ Brown has noted, it paradoxically comes from our own places of vulnerability. She writes;

When I ask people what is vulnerability, the answers were things like sitting with my wife who has Stage III breast cancer and trying to make plans for our children, or my first date after my divorce, saying I love you first, asking for a raise, sending my child to school being enthusiastic and supportive of him and knowing how excited he is about orchestra tryouts and how much he wants to make first chair and encouraging him and supporting him and knowing that’s not going to happen. To me, vulnerability is courage. It’s about the willingness to show up and be seen in our lives. And in those moments when we show up, I think those are the most powerful meaning-making moments of our lives even if they don’t go well. I think they define who we are.”

Truth told, I’m not sure what to make of the hyperbolic references to Hell in today’s text. To me, Hell is simply to be oneself apart from God’s grace and in isolation from others in beloved community. Hell is that self-chosen condition in which, in opposition to God’s unconditional love and the call to a life of mutual friendship and service, individuals barricade themselves from others. It is the hellish weariness and boredom of a life focused entirely on itself. Hell is not an arbitrary divine punishment at the end of history. It is not the final retaliation of a vindictive deity. As one theologian I admire has said (Daniel Migliore) hell is the self-destructive resistance to the eternal love of God. It symbolizes the truth that the meaning and intention of life can be missed. Repentance is urgent. Our choices and actions are important. God ever seeks to lead us out of our hell of self-absorption, but neither in time nor in eternity is God’s love coercive. Jesus uses hell as a fear tactic- perhaps hyperbolic – to be inclusive of the least of these and those who wish to follow Jesus. A number of years ago I was the priest on call at the Cathedral and received an emergency call in the middle of the night from the NICU at Northside Hospital. The nurse said a couple from the Cathedral was there, and the mother had just given birth to a stillborn daughter late in the third trimester. I drove to the hospital and arrived @3am, and I was met by the charge nurse, who was herself in tears, and led back to the room where the parents and their daughter were waiting. The mother was lying with her daughter on her chest in a lovely cloth basket and the father standing on the other side of the bed. I stood silently next to the bed, and took the mother’s hand in mine. Both parents were crying. I did not know them. After a few moments of silence the father asked tearfully, “Does she need to be baptized.” I was quiet for a minute, one of those Holy Saturday times when one is tempted to grasp for easy solutions and quick fixes, and I prayed, silently, for the right words. Saying nothing, I reached up and gathered the tears from the faces of both parents, already blessing their daughter, and with those tears I offered a blessing for this lovely child of God, and a prayer that God would welcome their daughter home, which I am sure in fact had already happened. After a time, the nurse came back in, and we all prayed together, and I promised to follow up with the parents. I saw them more often at church after that, and about a year later, they asked if we could talk. They let me know that they had adopted a daughter from China, and she would be having surgery for a repair of a cleft palate the next month. Would I mind coming to be with them for the surgery and I said of course I would be there, and I was. The surgery went well, and then—well, miracle of miracles—they asked me to baptize their daughter in Mikell Chapel. And so we did. The water of baptism was mixed with all of our tears—tears of joy—water from a deeper well. Amen.