January 22, 2025
“Just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body–Jews or Greeks, slaves or free–and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.” (The Epistle: 1 Corinthians 12:12)
Our Ministry Fair last Sunday was an outward and visible sign of the Spirit at work in our beloved Holy Family. A deep bow of gratitude for Parish Life, and all those who contributed to the success of this gathering. Thank you! We were indeed one in the same Spirit of grace, hospitality, excellence, and compassionate outreach.
Our search process now nears the penultimate stage, and we give thanks for our nominating committee consisting of co-chairs Martha Power and Steve Franzen, and the faithful committee members Scott Armentrout, Cammie Cox, Allan DeNiro, Winship Durrett, Jeannine Krenson, and Ric Sanchez. This is a difficult and sacred process, and we thank you, each of you!
And thanks to all those who completed the Congregational Assessment Tool (CAT) Survey taken by some 140 parishioners in May. Applications for our new Rector have now been received for consideration by the nominating committee, and they will go on to the vestry to complete the search process. We are getting close to the next chapter in the life of Holy Family thanks to all of you!
As I looked around the room at our Ministry Fair,
January 15, 2025
Grace and peace to each of you on this chilly Wednesday in Epiphany! I hope everyone is emerging safely from the icy chrysalis of the past few days. I missed seeing you all at church on Sunday. I was able to get out on the trails a few times, and finally made my way to the counseling center to see after my patients on Monday. With a full moon riding high in the sky, I was entranced by the beauty of the ice on a cold January night, a moment to be treasured, and a luminous gift.
In the quiet stillness of the woods in winter, I am reminded of this lovely poem:
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying
on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once,
January 8, 2025
On a cold Epiphany winter night at Holy Family, we joined in the Episcopal tradition of the Burning of the Greens. The Christian holy day Epiphany, on Jan. 6, is also known as the “Feast of Lights,” and some Episcopal congregations celebrate this feast quite literally, by burning Christmas trees and greens in recognition of Jesus as a light to the world.
The light from a Christmas tree fire invokes symbolism rooted in the origins of Epiphany as an alternative to pagan festivals that were held on the winter solstice – the darkest day of the year. Also known as Three Kings Day, Epiphany traditionally commemorates the day the Magi were introduced to the infant Jesus. Light also is a familiar motif in contemporary lectionary readings for Epiphany, such as Isaiah 60:1-6: “Arise, shine; for your light has come.”
Another tradition, closely associated with the winter solstice, is the burning of a Yule log in a bonfire, symbolizing the return of the sun during the darkest time of year, particularly prevalent in ancient Scandinavian cultures; people would often save a small part of the log to light the next year’s fire, signifying continuity and the cycle of life. The Germanic, Scandinavian, Norse, and Celtic peoples celebrated Yule on the winter solstice. Anciently, Yule was a celebration that, in some cases, lasted for 2 months! Norse people would celebrate Yule with evergreens, holly, wreaths, a Yule log, and bells.
In ancient customs, burning the Yule log was believed to signal the return of the sun and usher in the beginning of spring.
January 1, 2025
I am a collector and connoisseur of light. I hold memories of these experiences of light deep within my soul, and they sustain and enliven and enrich my experience of being alive. On a remarkable day recently, I was running on the local trails, and I was rendered speechless by the slant of light and the beauty of the day. As Emily Dickinson said,
There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons –
And on Christmas morning I arrived early and sat in the chapel as the light streamed into that sacred space, soon to be filled with those gathered for the quiet Eucharist….
In one of his poems Gerard Manly Hopkins has written,
“The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;”
In my mind’s eye, I have a collection of such days of remarkable light. They each involve a transformation of perspectives of some kind, perhaps even a transcendence of the ordinary, even if just for a moment. Each experience involves liminal, transitional space, where light seems to symbolize the passage to a new perspective, a surprising way of looking at the world. I recall the remarkable quality of light on a day in Maine, leaving Stonington Harbor in a kayak, looking back at the town as the sunlight, filtered through a dissipating fog, cast a beautiful glow on Penobscot Bay and reflected off the slick head of a harbor seal,