tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43814726621497633282024-03-05T05:07:38.435-05:00 Clergy Confidential Finding God in Daily ChaosTim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.comBlogger467125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-66159947746759587182023-12-23T13:54:00.000-05:002023-12-23T13:54:50.152-05:00In Good Faith: A Bedrock Christmas<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my (for now very occasional) </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about the ultimate Christmas prophecy: from The Flintstones.</i></span></p><p style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">A Bedrock Christmas</span></b></p><p style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Did you know, there’s a Christmas episode of the Flintstones? It originally aired on December </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZ6GMYjYfM5yGufIQgDad-_NrwqbTUROkvWO5hYo1To9PV98MxoVCZu19vBZ5Rtvfie1c_Z8eqISmJonQe1XSbdS37WKnOTRIH-ON93UjjZLNYIX0KkkEdFSFOQzh2lNzt6coeHErKq3kXSPaKzsHBC2CnJnaLgaL-oqr3KKzYq5bTVCPS8DEmWrY0HI/s600/flintstones-xmas-2.png.webp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZ6GMYjYfM5yGufIQgDad-_NrwqbTUROkvWO5hYo1To9PV98MxoVCZu19vBZ5Rtvfie1c_Z8eqISmJonQe1XSbdS37WKnOTRIH-ON93UjjZLNYIX0KkkEdFSFOQzh2lNzt6coeHErKq3kXSPaKzsHBC2CnJnaLgaL-oqr3KKzYq5bTVCPS8DEmWrY0HI/s320/flintstones-xmas-2.png.webp" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />25, 1964, as part of the original cartoon series. In it, Fred gets a part-time job at Macyrock’s department store to help finance the family’s Christmas. Mr. Macyrock initially fires Fred for being his usual doofus self, but reconsiders when he learns that the store’s regular Santa Claus has the flu. Fred proves a natural at entertaining the children and by the end of his stint, Mr. Macyrock proclaims Fred as the best Santa they’ve ever had. </span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, but that’s not the end of the story. On Christmas Eve, two of Santa’s elves, named Blinky and Twinky, appear to Fred as Macyrock’s is closing for the night. They explain to Fred that the real Santa Claus is sick and they ask him to help deliver presents to children around the world. As Fred steps in to save the day, we see him perched atop Santa’s sleigh shouting “Merry Christmas” in French, Italian, German, Dutch, English, and Swedish. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This is all very nice, until you do the math. And you think, “Wait a minute. The Flintstones took place in the Stone Age. That was <i>two-and-a-half million years</i> before Jesus was born in Bethlehem.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But as Christmas has become increasingly secular, it’s entirely possible to celebrate the holiday like the Flintstones: completely devoid of faith. You can celebrate Christmas without any sense of what it’s about or why it matters. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with this. Many of the people we know and care about lean into this mid-winter celebration with great joy. They put up beautifully decorated trees and reverently place garland on their banisters. They gather friends and family for Christmas dinner, pulling out all the culinary stops, reveling in this most wonderful time of the year. This is all good and even holy in its own way. But, as with the Flintstones’ Christmas, there’s something missing. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For Christians, the deep truth embedded in the celebration of our Lord’s birth is that God entered the world in human form. Not to condemn the world in its brokenness, but as an act of love. That’s the source of our joy; it’s what lights up the world, making it brighter than even the gaudiest holiday displays.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This season, I invite you to pause amid your own revelry to reflect upon the light that transcends even the brightness of the famous Worth Avenue Christmas tree. This is the light that shines in the darkness, but the darkness did not and cannot overcome it. It is the light that enters our hearts anew year after year. It is the light that offers desperately needed hope and meaning to our lives. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Truth be told, I’m still not sure why Fred yelled out “Merry Christmas!” rather than “Yabadabadoo!” from Santa’s sleigh in that Flintstones’ Christmas episode. But however and wherever you celebrate this year, please know that you are deeply loved by the God who created you. And that through the birth of God’s son, God invites you into an ever-deepening and ever-unfolding relationship. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Merry Christmas, friends. May the true joy of this season shine brightly within you.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: arial;">The Rev. Tim Schenck serves as Rector of the Church of Bethesda-by-the-Sea in Palm Beach. </span></i></p><div><i><br /></i></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-41632703087511653532023-07-06T15:21:00.000-04:002023-07-06T15:21:00.981-04:00Family Ministry Coordinator at BBTS<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-caps: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in 3pt 0.25in; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="position: relative; z-index: -1895825920;"><span style="font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; height: 80px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: -45px; width: 216px;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; height: 80px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: -45px; width: 216px;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; height: 80px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: -45px; width: 216px;"><br /></span><span style="height: 80px; left: 0px; position: absolute; top: -45px; width: 216px;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; break-after: avoid; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-caps: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1DSPHFIMusC1q5hxqRJ_89LGLkP457_cMq7ORO_6LzmakCzYw483-8Kx77QvU8sJw3ZPzF40Tc2kpl0EPL8hMdfAEfpUjl5MdXyk7dIZvtfluQW5Qd_93u1HCNSpNLz6LIcCAAc8p_O5mt0vx-4NyvFDQGRZCkglkDHp8veyWoRrDadNirksq10vMDY/s1338/LOGO-Transparent-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="1338" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1DSPHFIMusC1q5hxqRJ_89LGLkP457_cMq7ORO_6LzmakCzYw483-8Kx77QvU8sJw3ZPzF40Tc2kpl0EPL8hMdfAEfpUjl5MdXyk7dIZvtfluQW5Qd_93u1HCNSpNLz6LIcCAAc8p_O5mt0vx-4NyvFDQGRZCkglkDHp8veyWoRrDadNirksq10vMDY/s320/LOGO-Transparent-1.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Are you passionate about ministry with children and youth? Consider applying for this newly created, full-time lay position at <a href="http://www.bbts.org">Bethesda-by-the-Sea</a> in Palm Beach, Florida. Exciting things are happening and the Spirit is moving in this place! <p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; break-after: avoid; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span><br /></span></span></i></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; break-after: avoid; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span> </span>Family Ministry Coordinator <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; break-after: avoid; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Position Description<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="color: black;">Position Description</span></i></b><i><o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The Family Ministry Coordinator is responsible for implementing and administering Christian formation programs for <span style="color: #18191b;">children from birth through 12<sup>th</sup> grade. Working with clergy, church staff, and volunteers, the focus is on sharing our faith, while fostering a culture of joy and invitation. </span>This is a full-time position that offers a competitive compensation package and excellent benefits. <span style="color: #18191b;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><o:p> </o:p></i></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="color: black;">About Bethesda-by-the-Sea </span></i></b><o:p></o:p></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black;">Bethesda is a large and thriving Episcopal parish located on a beautiful campus in Palm Beach, Florida. We are seeking to grow and enrich our ministry to children and youth and are committed to doing so. Founded in 1889, Bethesda has more than a thousand members and an annual budget of $4 million. We currently see 20 to 30 children each Sunday and have approximately 20 middle and high school youth. Formation for children and youth takes place on Sunday mornings and at our Wednesday evening Middle Way program. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Accountability:<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Reports to the Associate Priest.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><a name="_Hlk133227644"><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Qualifications:<o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></a></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">In addition to a deep faith and a love of children, the successful candidate will be creative, energetic, organized, and passionate about the vision and ministry of Bethesda.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ability to connect and form meaningful relationships with children, youth, and families of diverse backgrounds.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Bachelor’s degree and minimum three years of youth and/or children’s ministry.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Knowledge of the Episcopal Church is highly desirable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ability to organize events.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Experience in e-mail marketing software (Constant Contact, Mail Chimp).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Experience with social media tools (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Ability to work on weekends and major holidays, in addition to regular weekday hours.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 3pt 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Essential Job Functions:</span></u></i></b></span><b><i><u><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></u></i></b></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Coordinate and oversee all areas of Christian formation for children and youth, including Sunday School, Youth Group, Confirmation Class, and annual youth mission trips. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Work with clergy and others to develop or implement appropriate curricula. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Recruit, train, schedule, and encourage volunteer teachers and youth workers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Work with the parish clergy to establish goals, determine priorities, and set the calendar for all ministry with children, youth, and families. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Along with volunteers and staff, plan and lead special events such as the Christmas Eve Pageant, Trivia Night, Mardi Gras, and Spring Carnival.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Assist in preparing the annual family ministry budget and monitor it throughout the year. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Coordinate the procurement and maintenance of all materials and equipment for Sunday School and youth ministry programs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #1c4220; font-size: 12pt;">Maintain database with accurate information for children, youth, and families.</span><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Communicate and promote family ministry programs and events, including information for Sunday leaflets, e-newsletter, website, and social media, as well as to the wider community.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Develop relationships with local schools and create ongoing volunteer opportunities for students.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #1c4220; font-size: 12pt;">Establish and implement a consistent, clear, and regular communications plan with children, youth, and families.</span><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Coordinate Safe Church certification for parishioners in contact with children and youth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; mso-vertical-align-alt: auto; punctuation-wrap: hanging; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="color: #18191b; font-size: 12pt;">Hire, supervise, and support nursery staff. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Salary:<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">Commensurate with experience.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt;">To Apply:<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
<!--
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin-top:3.0pt;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:3.0pt;
margin-left:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;
punctuation-wrap:simple;
text-autospace:none;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
p
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-margin-top-alt:auto;
margin-right:0in;
mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;
margin-left:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
margin-top:3.0pt;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:3.0pt;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;
punctuation-wrap:simple;
text-autospace:none;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:3.0pt;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;
punctuation-wrap:simple;
text-autospace:none;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;
punctuation-wrap:simple;
text-autospace:none;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:3.0pt;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
mso-layout-grid-align:none;
punctuation-wrap:simple;
text-autospace:none;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-size:10.0pt;
mso-ansi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-bidi-font-size:10.0pt;
mso-font-kerning:0pt;
mso-ligatures:none;}
@page WordSection1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.0in .75in 1.0in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}
/* List Definitions */
@list l0
{mso-list-id:464199327;
mso-list-type:hybrid;
mso-list-template-ids:-720723746 67698689 67698691 67698693 67698689 67698691 67698693 67698689 67698691 67698693;}
@list l0:level1
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Symbol;}
@list l0:level2
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:o;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:"Courier New";}
@list l0:level3
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Wingdings;}
@list l0:level4
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Symbol;}
@list l0:level5
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:o;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:"Courier New";}
@list l0:level6
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Wingdings;}
@list l0:level7
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Symbol;}
@list l0:level8
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:o;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:"Courier New";}
@list l0:level9
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Wingdings;}
@list l1
{mso-list-id:1356880918;
mso-list-type:hybrid;
mso-list-template-ids:-158441260 67698689 67698691 67698693 67698689 67698691 67698693 67698689 67698691 67698693;}
@list l1:level1
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Symbol;}
@list l1:level2
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:o;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:"Courier New";}
@list l1:level3
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Wingdings;}
@list l1:level4
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Symbol;}
@list l1:level5
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:o;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:"Courier New";}
@list l1:level6
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Wingdings;}
@list l1:level7
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Symbol;}
@list l1:level8
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:o;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:"Courier New";}
@list l1:level9
{mso-level-number-format:bullet;
mso-level-text:;
mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;
font-family:Wingdings;}
-->
</style></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Please send a resume and cover letter to Mr. Joe Sanelli, Parish Administrator, at sanelli@bbts.org.</span><b><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-58137756385064086492023-03-08T11:27:00.004-05:002023-03-08T11:27:50.113-05:00In Good Faith: Sticking it Out<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my latest </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about stick shifts, and getting stranded on the side of the road.</i> </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Sticking it Out</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I still drive a stick shift. They’re increasingly hard to come by these days, but in addition to making me feel like a NASCAR driver while racing up and down the streets of Palm Beach in my Volkswagen Jetta, there’s another built-in advantage: it’s an anti-theft device. Who’s going to steal a car no one knows how to drive anymore? I mean, not even my young adult children can steal it. They never learned how to drive a stick. Despite my pleading (“What if there’s an emergency and the only car available has a manual transmission? You could be the hero!”), they just rolled their eyes and borrowed mom’s car. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSt8ZnmFaH1Zw2_FK8jhCsll0EjbWkjJkyCldgTquJfCVLc75wAOG1KaTkTVMIP5chH-vfjnjnz7dYixjqngbrtnynnESTzSIXHjdtDyw6GNiuM40cM1xGfqMjeZYqccuT4NY7uwoH2IB7HZKC9hGkGH4l1lN9oZ1tqlB00oPsZHUvCTcvKisPzN2/s1600/IMG_3365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDSt8ZnmFaH1Zw2_FK8jhCsll0EjbWkjJkyCldgTquJfCVLc75wAOG1KaTkTVMIP5chH-vfjnjnz7dYixjqngbrtnynnESTzSIXHjdtDyw6GNiuM40cM1xGfqMjeZYqccuT4NY7uwoH2IB7HZKC9hGkGH4l1lN9oZ1tqlB00oPsZHUvCTcvKisPzN2/s320/IMG_3365.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I hadn’t thought much about this — it’s just something I’ve always done — until the clutch went out a couple weeks ago while I was picking up a friend at the airport. But I had lots of time to contemplate life and clutch pedals as I sat on the side of the road just outside the entrance to the arrivals terminal. For five (!) hours.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If I’m honest, it was less contemplation and more endlessly scrolling on Twitter. But there was <i>some</i> contemplation. At one point, I got out of my stranded car and stared up at the stars in the sky. I thought about life and faith and God. Until the sprinklers on the median started going off and I got drenched. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For Christians, the arrival of the season of Lent is, among other things, a time specifically set aside for self-reflection and contemplation. Sometimes we’re intentional about this and sometimes circumstances force us into contemplation. I usually rue these moments — the Wi-Fi goes out, I temporarily lose my phone — but later end up giving thanks for the opportunity to unplug and spend some time with my own thoughts.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Here’s the thing though. Contemplation and technology aren’t mutually exclusive. There are a whole host of meditation apps and ways to use technology to settle the mind. I use a prayer app from Forward Movement to pray the Daily Office every morning. And during my time trapped in my car with the sprinklers making me feel like I was in a particularly intense carwash, I used the app to pray Evening Prayer, giving thanks for all the blessings of life, especially for the fact that I wasn’t stuck in a snow storm.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This Lent, I encourage you to be intentional about spending time in prayer or contemplation. Whether by unplugging or plugging in, the point is that we need such time to stay grounded and connected to the life that exists beyond the visible world. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Here at Bethesda-by-the-Sea, the church is open during the week and we encourage people to take some time to sit and contemplate life in our sacred space. If you seek an oasis to get out of the fray for awhile, whether inside the church or by walking through our beautiful grounds (yes, we have a koi pond), please know that you are always welcome. I promise I won’t even try to baptize you!</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">AAA did eventually come to rescue me. And $1,000 later my clutch is back to its old self. I guess you could say, I’m financially poorer, but spiritually richer for the experience. </span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-31231555157002803842023-01-22T19:40:00.002-05:002023-01-22T19:40:27.757-05:00In Good Faith: No Room for Hate<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my latest In Good Faith column, I write about the need for Christians to take a stand against anti-semitism, in light of a recent local incident.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>No Room for Hate</b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There’s a famous photograph taken in Kiel, Germany, in 1932, from the inside of a rabbi’s home</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgTWf0dLqJipal2_iwfcFhClwRQzKYKoLogaIeuLpGyPlhbS7inVclj_eVuz4Mz8PztfGcp2mo2YXjDpy4894srJ7sJCc92a_2pzuVanZB_-8UUzuDF-uv1Jha_lR9oq2odIbCCXdElMV4lWCAYEsfexTbxUR3mG7rqpoWeRufYFOXAx8N_alXJXu/s1924/6ac339ad-9924-4e3b-902e-123b7927a09a-jumbo3x4_swastika.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1924" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgTWf0dLqJipal2_iwfcFhClwRQzKYKoLogaIeuLpGyPlhbS7inVclj_eVuz4Mz8PztfGcp2mo2YXjDpy4894srJ7sJCc92a_2pzuVanZB_-8UUzuDF-uv1Jha_lR9oq2odIbCCXdElMV4lWCAYEsfexTbxUR3mG7rqpoWeRufYFOXAx8N_alXJXu/s320/6ac339ad-9924-4e3b-902e-123b7927a09a-jumbo3x4_swastika.PNG" width="240" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">that stood directly across the street from the Nazi party headquarters. It shows a menorah in the window facing a large Nazi flag. On the back of the original photograph, which was taken on the eighth night of Hanukkah, is a handwritten note that declares, “Our light will outlast their flag.”</span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’ve always been mesmerized by both the image and the accompanying words. They serve as reminders that God is larger than the sinful machinations of humanity and that hope shines even amidst the deepest darkness and despair.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the Christian tradition, we look to the poetic prologue to John’s gospel to discover that sense of hope. In words teeming with the language of incarnation, we hear that “A light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” For Christians, this is the Light of Christ; of God entering the world in human form. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But beyond the specificity of this light is a universal yearning for hope, equality, and justice that transcends the lines of belief. Which is why the menorah in the window offers us all hope in the face of despair. A reminder that light does indeed shine even on the darkest of nights. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Last Saturday night, antisemitic images and messages were projected onto an AT&T building in West Palm Beach. This isn’t something that only impacts the Jewish community. It is an affront to all that is good and holy and sacred to people of every faith tradition. As Rabbi Moshe Scheiner of Palm Beach Synagogue put it, “We cannot remain silent.” </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And so I write in solidarity with our Jewish friends to publicly condemn antisemitism in general and the recent messages of hate in particular. There is no place for anti-Semitism in Christian faith and practice, and no place for such hatred in our society. When some among us are threatened, we are all threatened; when some among us are hurting, we are all hurting; when some among us are attacked, we are all attacked. The rise in antisemitic rhetoric from celebrities or politicians cannot be tolerated or left unchecked. Nor can situations where violence is perpetrated upon Jews. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The fact is, according to the Anti-Defamation League, the past two years have seen the highest incident rate ever for documented reports of harassment, vandalism, and violence directed against Jews. Christians cannot remain silent.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I hope you will join me in praying for the restoration of tolerance, for an end to bigotry in our midst, and for greater understanding and harmony in our community. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This past December the original menorah from the photograph was lit in Berlin, 90 years after the rabbi and his family fled Germany. The light did indeed outlast their flag. And it is incumbent upon all of us, to be bearers of this light in the world.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-44233236424082432812023-01-12T19:32:00.001-05:002023-01-12T19:32:02.919-05:00In Good Faith: Swinging for the Fences<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my January </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about my lack of golfing skills and why it's okay to give something up as a New Year's resolution.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Swinging for the Fences</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Before I accepted the call to serve as the next rector of Bethesda-by-the-Sea, I felt I needed to </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVoWnkLQVdYrTLZ9BxwURc-IjK3GORGda89uC-ryKnlksgzXyDwsNFaRATOzkSJ0dELt2tt10DWfgEwVTPosMhcIlSPUKRs6wuSvIHR0tC6tkzisecA-9cHVHS4OYDttRA8HBF6tDgvSXIlUtYY5a8cW97hRyLK7LDxwvlwWzcyptphhDNgjGtqdh/s1252/320949933_1255448051753751_7955875187029468806_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1252" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCVoWnkLQVdYrTLZ9BxwURc-IjK3GORGda89uC-ryKnlksgzXyDwsNFaRATOzkSJ0dELt2tt10DWfgEwVTPosMhcIlSPUKRs6wuSvIHR0tC6tkzisecA-9cHVHS4OYDttRA8HBF6tDgvSXIlUtYY5a8cW97hRyLK7LDxwvlwWzcyptphhDNgjGtqdh/s320/320949933_1255448051753751_7955875187029468806_n.jpg" width="276" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">fully disclose an important item about my life to the search committee. It’s always better to come clean before the fact rather than after it, and if I ended up in Palm Beach, I wanted to be certain that this new relationship was built upon honesty not deception. </span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So, when the interviews and tour were over, I took a deep breath and told the committee chair that I do not, in fact play golf. I told him this while standing outside the church on Via Bethesda, as I heard golf balls being whacked at the Breakers course right next door. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Of course I was joking. Mostly. Not about not being a golfer — I’m not one — but about the perceived requirement for clergy on Palm Beach to have a four handicap. I was knowingly feeding into every stereotype about island life. That clergy work for a couple hours on Sunday morning and spend the rest of the week golfing and schmoozing. But perhaps a small part of me just wanted to make sure. Because the real work of ministry, and why I accepted the call to Bethesda, is to create a place of love and welcome for all people, to encourage each one of us to live out our faith in tangible ways, to cultivate generous hearts, and to make God known both in Palm Beach and the wider world.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A couple weeks ago my 23-year-old son who was visiting from Boston, convinced me to join him at a local driving range. You’ve seen it — it’s the one near the airport with the giant netting. Ben likes to hit balls and play a round every once in a while, something he was decidedly not doing back home where it was 5 degrees out.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now in fairness to my golfing ability, I am a veteran of mini-golf. When our boys were younger there were plenty of outings to courses where I would always be stymied by the towering windmill. This doesn’t actually transfer to a driving range, where the point is to <i>drive</i> the ball, not putt it. So my lack of skills were on display for all the world to see. Or at least that section of the world that was at a driving range in West Palm Beach at 11:30 am on a Monday morning. The real issue, as Ben accurately pointed out, is that I swing a golf club like a baseball bat. Suffice it to say, that it was a long two hours. Blasted two-hour minimum!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In ministry I’m always pushing people to get out of their comfort zones and try something new. Whether that’s a prayer practice, a way of looking at the world, or a committee they never before considered joining, we grow when we challenge ourselves. But just because something challenges us doesn’t mean it’s worthy of our pursuit. I’m not a golfer and will never become one — I tried it and I’m just not interested. In the same way, it’s important to recognize the things that are life-giving and joy-inducing in our lives and the things that aren’t. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions, but giving something up is as worthy a resolution as anything. Think about what truly feeds your soul and consider letting go of something that does not. Even if it’s something you feel you should be doing because everyone else seems to be. Like golf.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-49245761172533405032022-12-26T15:27:00.004-05:002022-12-26T15:27:31.513-05:00In Good Faith: Dreaming of a White Christmas?<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my first column after a bit of a hiatus (moving, switching jobs, etc), I write about spending my first Christmas in Florida and how what never changes is the timelessness of the Incarnation.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Dreaming of a White Christmas?</b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This being my very first Christmas in Florida, after serving a church in New England for the past </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EP-gnhjUsrXbQQNbyzOq4TTiq4PQbsBOjFhyAyZ8X8L8z_jbP297fryoS_UjBQx74RfDM43toj0jyqQDXrZcYC2PjC71kI40_Xr6-nl4wHFEIJIcp6EhiaO3XrhpRPtFKsYDfNsU5k-8Jn3Y7dnxFfPM2J67q4QjYLZD0l6I-hDcn2cUG5GlDM2e/s2048/321857102_584975373636567_5721365511406437271_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EP-gnhjUsrXbQQNbyzOq4TTiq4PQbsBOjFhyAyZ8X8L8z_jbP297fryoS_UjBQx74RfDM43toj0jyqQDXrZcYC2PjC71kI40_Xr6-nl4wHFEIJIcp6EhiaO3XrhpRPtFKsYDfNsU5k-8Jn3Y7dnxFfPM2J67q4QjYLZD0l6I-hDcn2cUG5GlDM2e/s320/321857102_584975373636567_5721365511406437271_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">14 years, I have a few initial impressions. The first being that I can’t fully wrap my head around the fact that it’s Christmastime. Taking the dogs for a leisurely morning walk on the beach in the days leading up to the 25th has dashed all my dreaming of a white Christmas. I couldn’t see my breath, my fingers and toes weren’t numb, I didn’t race home to build a fire in the fireplace, and there was certainly no backbreaking snow to shovel.</span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And then there were the beautiful evergreen wreaths we bought for the front door of the rectory. They lasted a day or two before they were blasted by the sun and turned brown. But we’re quick learners, and they have since been replaced by artificial ones. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Finally, certain Christmas carols and hymns land a bit differently down here. In the Bleak Midwinter? Not so much. Frosty the Snowman? Puddle of water. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">By the way, I’m not complaining. In fact, I am all in. I’ll probably be stringing up lights on palm trees next year.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But whether you’re trudging through slush or walking barefoot in the sand, what doesn’t change at Christmas is the timelessness of God’s love for humanity. God entering the world in human form transcends time and space, geography and weather.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And despite the nostalgia for a white Christmas with sleigh bells ringing and walking in a winter wonderland, it didn’t actually snow on that first Christmas Day. How do I know? I’m no meteorologist, but Jesus was born in the Middle East. So the odds of a blast of nordic air smacking the shepherds and angels gathered around the manger the night of Jesus’ birth were about zero.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Of course that doesn’t matter — it doesn’t change anything. Christmas isn’t about some bygone five-day forecast. It’s not dependent upon ideal weather conditions or snow-making machines. It’s about the hope of the world being born in less-than-ideal circumstances. It’s about joy entering our lives amid the mud and muck of a stable rather than a palace birthing room. It’s about a light shining in the darkness, and the darkness being unable to overcome it. It’s about remembering and reaching out to the least, the lost, and the lonely this season.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Wherever you are, whatever your faith tradition, whatever the weather, I hope you’ll open your heart to the Christmas story this year. When we receive it in a way that cuts through the sentimentality of the season, it can’t help but be a vehicle of hope and transformation. And let’s be honest — we could all use a dose of that these days.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If you are seeking a church home or simply want to celebrate the miracle of our Savior’s birth this Christmas, please know that there is always a place for you at the Church of Bethesda-by-the-Sea. But wherever you choose to worship, may God bless you in the year ahead and may you have a very merry, if not particularly snow-filled, Christmas. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-376033893385203962022-04-13T11:16:00.001-04:002022-04-13T11:16:33.687-04:00Spy Wednesday Reflection<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3Va0JAFjCPqszcwfwfQu5FmjygWxtJPUuUCaJxsBY5omCr7kYRGqGkx35YHk9-IpqvftguL8CiW37pgEV8PZCWYP4Y0sf8mxw7s3wQnv6PJfzmZBW4p_Kjh-Ed9hDa_9lsugvEMiM9X2xlFidOsll6ilCLPJA7GbMlLTJekm1eBeIcQxqhysK5OK/s1023/1024px-The_Taking_of_Christ-Caravaggio__c.1602_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="1023" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3Va0JAFjCPqszcwfwfQu5FmjygWxtJPUuUCaJxsBY5omCr7kYRGqGkx35YHk9-IpqvftguL8CiW37pgEV8PZCWYP4Y0sf8mxw7s3wQnv6PJfzmZBW4p_Kjh-Ed9hDa_9lsugvEMiM9X2xlFidOsll6ilCLPJA7GbMlLTJekm1eBeIcQxqhysK5OK/s320/1024px-The_Taking_of_Christ-Caravaggio__c.1602_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">On this Spy Wednesday, so-called because we hear the story of Judas' betrayal of Jesus on theWednesday of Holy Week, I thought I'd share a brief reflection. It's based on the gospel reading appointed for the day (<a href="https://www.lectionarypage.net/YearABC_RCL/HolyWk/HolyWed_RCL.html#gsp1">John 13:21-32</a>).</span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>The Wheels are in Motion</b></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The wheels are in motion. That’s the phrase I always come back to on the Wednesday of Holy Week. For Christians marking this week with intention, the wheels are in motion and there will be no stopping the inevitable moments in this story, in <i>our</i> story. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jesus will be betrayed and given into the hands of sinners. The sham trial will follow its course. Pilate will wash his hands. An innocent man will be strung up on a cross to endure a painful death. Peter will deny Jesus three times. The disciples will flee in fear. The wheels are in motion and nothing can stop what’s barreling down the track to an ignominious end. It will soon be finished. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Jesus dips the bread into the cup and gives it to the one who would betray him — a sort of anti-communion. And Judas leaves to do what he was going to do. To sell Jesus out. To be rewarded for his betrayal. As John writes in his starkly poetic way, “After receiving the piece of bread, Judas immediately went out. And it was night.”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But here’s the hope on this painful day during this painful week. We hear that “when he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s not enough of a marvel to learn that Jesus will be glorified, but that he will be glorified “at once.” Not in a few days, not when the resurrection has been realized, not when Mary Magdalene shares the incredible news of Jesus’ rising with the other disciples. Jesus is glorified “at once.”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">How is this even possible? Because God’s plan is at work. Not the plan of the Roman authorities or the plan of the brow-beaten and terrified disciples; not the world’s plan or Satan’s plan. <i>God’s </i>plan is at work. And while the unfolding plan of salvation is a mystery to mere mortals, certainly a mystery to us, God’s unfolding plan of salvation is what’s set in motion. The wheels of life rather than the wheels of death are in motion. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And for this reason, even in the midst of impending death, hope is offered on this day. Remember when Jesus told his mother at the wedding of Cana, at the very beginning of John’s Gospel, that his hour had not come? Jesus’ hour has come. And while Judas plays a particular role in the unfolding drama, the working out of God’s plan of salvation for the whole world is so much greater than 30 pieces of silver. In the end, Judas is a bit player. For the very wheels of salvation are in motion.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Image: The Taking of Christ by Caravaggio (1602)</i></span></p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-41132030365563891862022-02-17T08:16:00.000-05:002022-02-17T08:16:14.306-05:00In Good Faith: Marking Milestones<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my February </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about celebrating 21st birthdays amid a pandemic and the importance of marking milestones.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Marking Milestones</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I had recently turned 21, I went out to dinner with my mother. I remember the barely-legal-</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyxUwg9_Q5kSJxcIOonu23QSlyIZEjqGkjNpgPl92y-OS9JDvU3P8F0cWADoINwFLsqIR9Q3_Xzv9lFip_7ZYj2A_y-55F49HdIDMMgFw-eKk1RKcDNkOopkbR3cVaIllYdXeNm-8RYWUpRwFK9YAmoTWtnF7B2uqpcxg3PNtVJu5R1yTqXh_jctPt=s861" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="781" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyxUwg9_Q5kSJxcIOonu23QSlyIZEjqGkjNpgPl92y-OS9JDvU3P8F0cWADoINwFLsqIR9Q3_Xzv9lFip_7ZYj2A_y-55F49HdIDMMgFw-eKk1RKcDNkOopkbR3cVaIllYdXeNm-8RYWUpRwFK9YAmoTWtnF7B2uqpcxg3PNtVJu5R1yTqXh_jctPt=s320" width="290" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">herself waitress coming over to our table, taking our drink orders, and demanding in full sincerity to see my mother’s ID. My mom met the waitress’s gaze, pointed at me, and proclaimed, “Here’s my ID — my 21-year-old son!” As I recall, the waitress slowly backed away and brought her a glass of Pinot Grigio.<br /></span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I thought about this encounter recently as our youngest son, Zak, just turned 21. Now, I’m not sharing this because I’m way too young (in my mind) to have another child of legal drinking age. That’s another story. But Zak was our second child to hit this major milestone during Covid. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Because restrictions have eased, we were able to take him out to a bar for his first legal drink. Soon enough he ditched us to spend time with friends, but it was fun to recognize and mark this moment with him.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When our eldest son Ben hit the magic age in the midst of the lockdown, we made him sit out in the driveway and hold a “Honk I’m 21” sign. Since we live on Main Street, cars were plentiful, and I swear, I’ve rarely had more fun in my entire life, waving to cars and seeing and hearing the enthusiastic responses.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">All of which is to say that marking milestones is important. We do this on birthdays, graduations, anniversaries and a host of other occasions that blend our lives with our calendars. We mark them partly out of obligation and adherence to social norms, but mostly out of love. We celebrate milestones because they mark the very fabric of our lives, and convey just how much we care about the person in question. Without milestones, we may simply overlook chances to celebrate one another in intentional ways. And that would diminish the relationships that matter the most.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This pandemic has disrupted many of our most cherished milestone traditions. Yet I love how we have collectively adapted over the past two years, even as we have pined for a return to the way we have long celebrated together. Speaking of which, will blowing out candles on a birthday cake go the way of bobbing for apples? In a post-Covid world, it’s certainly hard to imagine breathing all over a cake and then inviting people to have a piece. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But drive-by birthday celebrations, waving to grandma from outside the nursing home, and Zoom holiday gatherings have all been ways we adapted and found ways to mark milestones despite trying circumstances. Whenever we move into a post-pandemic world, I hope this time will help us to never again take these celebrations for granted. Few things in life are as important as recognizing and nurturing our life-giving relationships. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We’ve proven that we can do this when conditions are less than ideal. And while we may not be blowing germs all over birthday cakes anytime soon, I’m sure we’ll continue to discover new and creative ways to celebrate the most important people in our lives.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-24973978193360301772022-01-10T15:11:00.003-05:002022-01-10T15:11:52.457-05:00In Good Faith: In the Footsteps of Holiness<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my January </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about an encounter (sort of) with the beloved Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the inspiration of walking on hallowed ground. </i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">In the Footsteps of Holiness</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of the things I cherish about visiting hallowed ground is that sense of walking in the </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5c0DRK9_09dj9p84m4F849uOKLo6OYsvLXdADIMrqq8J4txNEF3Wt0WES-5L29xHtGouGyCGG6k-EponKYb_9HEf48pwmxMNldSbEN1yS5vqCYUc52rp3zHqaf2lJkL13Jc0lMzEb3IjR7GTXZsbX6Pae8hufgNB950T7eFnhl0Hwobe24TpaX_yq=s405" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="284" data-original-width="405" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg5c0DRK9_09dj9p84m4F849uOKLo6OYsvLXdADIMrqq8J4txNEF3Wt0WES-5L29xHtGouGyCGG6k-EponKYb_9HEf48pwmxMNldSbEN1yS5vqCYUc52rp3zHqaf2lJkL13Jc0lMzEb3IjR7GTXZsbX6Pae8hufgNB950T7eFnhl0Hwobe24TpaX_yq=w372-h260" width="372" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">footsteps of those who exist in our minds as larger-than-life figures.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As a kid growing up in Baltimore, I once toured the dugout and clubhouse of the old Memorial Stadium. As a young Orioles fan, walking the same ground as Jim Palmer, Eddie Murray, and Cal Ripken was awe inspiring. As an adult, I had a similar experience sitting in the Rosa Parks bus at the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan. Being in the physical space where her gentle, yet iron-willed courage played out was incredibly moving to me.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It was in this vein that I learned of another such encounter, one fueled by love and justice. In the days after Archbishop Desmond Tutu died, I was reminded that he once officiated a wedding at the parish I serve. This remarkable and holy man had walked down our aisle and stood at our altar. He had gazed upon our stained glass windows and stood in our Memorial Garden. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the days following Bishop Tutu’s death we, along with churches throughout the world, rang bells at St. John’s to offer thanks for his extraordinary witness to the demands of justice and the reconciling power of love. The groom from that 1999 wedding day joined us for a time of prayer and reflection.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Stewart Ting Chong served on Tutu’s staff for seven years during the apartheid era in South Africa. For Stewart, Bishop Tutu was more than a global icon, he was a friend, mentor, and confidant. In reflecting on his friend, he wrote, “There was, for me, no one braver, more </span><span style="font-family: arial;">outspoken in the defense of the oppressed, the persecuted, and the discriminated, and no one more prayerfully contemplative than the Arch.” </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Several years ago, I was privileged to travel with a group from our parish to visit South Africa. We visited the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg, toured Robben Island where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 18 years, and learned about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission work of Bishop Tutu.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This transformative, inspiring, and heart breaking pilgrimage was made even more poignant when I learned of Bishop Tutu’s connection to St. John’s. Somehow the experiences we shared during that time, which continue to resonate, were made that much more real by the knowledge that the archbishop had, for a brief time, joined us on our journey.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As Stewart also wrote in the hours after the bells tolled in honor of his friend, “The Archbishop’s death is not the end of the battle he waged for goodness. It is the beginning for each one of us who holds his name in high esteem. Discrimination, injustice, persecution and oppression will not end unless we pick up his mantle of righteousness and call to account those who continue to tarnish the ideals that he had so faithfully strived to achieve. Let us find our voice and speak out against oppression. Let us speak out against the injustices inflicted on communities around the world. Let us hold accountable those who plunder the coffers intended to help the weak, hungry, and destitute. And let us put the words we speak into action with righteous indignation and leave this world a better and kinder place for the generations that follow. Let us pledge to continue his work.”</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">To which all we can do is say, “Amen.” And then get to work.</span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-1216501185152640272021-12-19T16:23:00.002-05:002021-12-19T16:23:37.930-05:00In Good Faith: The Mess of Christmas<p>In the Christmas edition of my In Good Faith column, I write about the messiness of that first Christmas and how it keeps the messes in our own lives - and the world - in perspective.<b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;"> </b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">The Mess of Christmas</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdDObEAU-O3NsvBKCZlkbJfX9KFCJZHNREqZQ67gxPChwpNJtJjBLZSVDdHaBUukvdn10DEOYRFi6pGr5I6MFtrqW28c9ZlpXfGnbDBvgJjbUSeA1twImE6UrnnnOopBO1f9kDazUl_J9yGXAnsvBYcyNd3X5UxgKFU7DBMpJ2bLt5iW94L7VJu-H4=s550" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="550" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdDObEAU-O3NsvBKCZlkbJfX9KFCJZHNREqZQ67gxPChwpNJtJjBLZSVDdHaBUukvdn10DEOYRFi6pGr5I6MFtrqW28c9ZlpXfGnbDBvgJjbUSeA1twImE6UrnnnOopBO1f9kDazUl_J9yGXAnsvBYcyNd3X5UxgKFU7DBMpJ2bLt5iW94L7VJu-H4=s320" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I have nothing against dainty, hand-painted porcelain nativity sets that sit atop mantlepieces in well-appointed homes. Many of them are quite beautiful, especially when accompanied by stockings hung by the chimney with care. And if they draw us into contemplation of the story of Jesus’ birth, I’m definitely on Team Porcelain Nativity Set.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The only problem with them is when they lead us into the temptation of sentimentalizing Christmas. In other words, this time of year should be full of precious moments, but it shouldn’t be all about Precious Moments.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This year, in particular, feels less than precious. Covid is again running rampant, there’s great uncertainty as to how to safely gather at home and in churches, supply chain issues are disrupting our best-laid plans, and everyone is exhausted by the prospect of a third straight year of pandemic living. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The good news is that our current state of chaos has a lot more in common with the first Christmas than any hand-crafted nativity set. After all, giving birth is messy business! And it must have been particularly stressful to go into labor in a place so far away from family and friends. Not to mention the conditions: cows and sheep are dirty and wander all over the place; shepherds generally need a shower; and angels are terrifying.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And yet, despite all the messiness, despite everything not going according to plan, despite all the expectations not met, Christ our Savior was born. God entered the world in human form not into a state of perfection, but in the midst of a mess. I actually take great comfort in this. Because if Jesus himself arrived into a state of disarray, there’s hope for his entrance into our own often disordered lives. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Of course, much of the messiness into which Jesus was born had more to do with the human condition than with the maelstrom around the manger. Because unlike that porcelain nativity set, we’re not shiny and perfect and set apart. Rather, we’re flawed and dented and set within the context of our broken humanity. The miracle of Christmas is that, despite our imperfections and the mess we make of things, Jesus still shows up to walk with us, to live with us, to love us.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Which means a more accurate nativity scene might be the PlayMobil version my kids had when they were young. The sheep were strewn all over the place, the Magi were replaced with Power Rangers, dinosaurs were involved, and this all took place not on a distant mantlepiece, but on the family room floor. Which feels like a more authentic version of how things unfolded on that long-ago night in Bethlehem — accessible, authentic, and messy.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Whatever we do or fail to get done this Christmas, remember that God will love us anyway. Whatever mess Jesus encounters when he arrives or whatever state of chaos we find ourselves in on December 25, he will love us anyway.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Hold on to that love, friends. And know that whatever mess we’ve made of things, and no matter how messy our world feels right now, God is right in the midst of it all.</span></p></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-9196786524862725442021-12-08T08:14:00.003-05:002021-12-08T08:14:20.852-05:00Thirsty, and You Gave Me Drink<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWcInrUDJpqXorpbn2U1m_wafdJgINu2MTLDJ5FlbBMNsvchT2BQZVm_IgVapEhszrJSLte6gOQMWHOuzHTech4Ud9BqnvRl-yk2GjzpDvIBTjNyP8vxK5ULKQcC773LuqWTdLWxkQgw/s2700/Thirsty-cover_front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2700" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWcInrUDJpqXorpbn2U1m_wafdJgINu2MTLDJ5FlbBMNsvchT2BQZVm_IgVapEhszrJSLte6gOQMWHOuzHTech4Ud9BqnvRl-yk2GjzpDvIBTjNyP8vxK5ULKQcC773LuqWTdLWxkQgw/s320/Thirsty-cover_front.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>One of the two sermons I wrote for <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Thirsty-Drink-Homilies-Reflections-Cycle/dp/1940414350">Thirsty, and You Gave Me Drink: Homilies and Reflections for Cycle C</a></i> is bookended by homilies written by Jesuit superstars James Martin and Greg Boyle. The other is right next to one from Richard Rohr. This is pretty rarified spiritual air and it was an honor to be invited to contribute to this collection.<div><br /></div><div>Even better, is that all the proceeds from this book go to support ministries that promote access to clean drinking water. I love this project, part of an ongoing series from <a href="https://www.clearfaithpublishing.com">Clear Faith Publishing</a> called Homilists for the Homeless. All of the participants donate their submissions so that book sales help feed and support those in need here at home and around the world.</div><div><br /></div><div>So...buy a copy or five! They make great Christmas gifts and provide inspiration throughout the coming year to complement the cycle of Sunday lectionary readings.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm grateful to Fran Szpylczyn for asking me to participate in this project. How do I know Fran? From Twitter, of course. See? Good things can come from the morass of social media!</div><div><br /></div><div>Here are the four charities your purchase of <i>Thirsty</i> will support:</div><div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.thirstproject.org/">Thirst Project</a></span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>Thirst Project is a non-profit organization that exists to end the global water crisis and the fact that over 785 million people on the planet do not have access to safe, clean water. They travel across the world to educate individuals about the global water crisis and challenge them to fundraise to build freshwater wells in developing nations and impoverished communities. They guarantee that 100% of all public donations go directly toward their well projects. Over the last decade, Thirst Project has raised more than $11 million, which has given over 500,000 people in thirteen countries safe, clean water for life. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.waterforpeople.org">Water For People</a><br /></span></b>Water For People envisions a world where every person has access to reliable and safe water and sanitation services. Water For People exists to promote the development of high-quality drinking water and sanitation services, accessible to all, and sustained by strong communities, businesses, and governments. They have impacted 1.54 million people with their sanitation services and created 2,436 permanent jobs through their work. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.charitywater.org">charity: water</a><br /></span></b>charity: water believes that sustainable work is locally led. Along with implementing community-owned water projects, their local partners help facilitate comprehensive water, sanitation, and hygiene (WASH) programming to protect everyone’s long-term health. During the past fifteen years, they have funded over 79,000 water projects in 29 countries. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><a href="http://www.cleanwaterfund.org">Clean Water Fund</a><br /></span></b>Clean Water Fund's mission is to develop strong grassroots environmental leadership and to bring together diverse constituencies to work cooperatively for changes that improve their lives, focused on health, consumer, environmental and community problems. Based in Washington, DC, Clean Water Fund operates locally staffed environmental and health protection programs serving communities in more than fifteen US states.<o:p></o:p></p><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-43817571073708831972021-12-03T12:34:00.002-05:002021-12-03T12:34:24.419-05:00On Praying the Trisagion<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3FIWrb5KlEKFXnAxDu4ELNGcVTSFvBQEdCCxzMv60AotWJ22HQuwa_7gVklRNj50WSeykEroumbE2m57gIpbqP-tsPTptnCd5CtG57iBs02ECWPVXYcMz-qSpoPAcd8_dHGDT1KGctE/s1494/1200px-Angelsatmamre-trinity-rublev-1410.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1494" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3FIWrb5KlEKFXnAxDu4ELNGcVTSFvBQEdCCxzMv60AotWJ22HQuwa_7gVklRNj50WSeykEroumbE2m57gIpbqP-tsPTptnCd5CtG57iBs02ECWPVXYcMz-qSpoPAcd8_dHGDT1KGctE/s320/1200px-Angelsatmamre-trinity-rublev-1410.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>During Advent, as part of the opening rite of our Sunday services, we sing or say the ancient prayer known as the <i>Trisagion</i>. The word is Greek for "thrice holy," a nod to both the Trinity and the fact that "Holy" does indeed appear three times.<div><br /><div>Holy God</div><div>Holy and Mighty </div><div>Holy Immortal One </div><div>Have mercy upon us </div><p>Most believe the prayer dates back to the 3rd or 4th centuries, but there is also a tradition that Nicodemus </p><p>prayed these words as he took Jesus' body down from the cross with Joseph of Arimathea. It was also used regularly at the Council of Chalcedon in 451.</p><p>While the <i>Trisagion</i> is central to the liturgies of Orthodox Christianity, it plays an important role in the West as well. In addition to use during Advent or Lent, these words are prayed on Good Friday, both during the Reproaches and between stops of the Stations of the Cross. The <i>Trisagion </i>is also incorporated into the anthem In the Midst of Life, said on Holy Saturday.</p>Sanctus Deus <div>Sanctus Fortis </div><div>Sanctus Immortalis </div><div>Miserere nobis<p>In the Eucharistic liturgy, we also hear echoes of this "thrice holy" in the Sanctus (Holy, Holy, Holy). This refrain is deeply embedded in Scripture (Isaiah 6:3, Revelation 4:8).</p><p>All of which is simply background to suggest that you use the <i>Trisagion</i> in your Advent devotions this year. Consider memorizing it and using these words as a mantra throughout the season. There's no right or wrong way to pray the <i>Trisagion</i>, but it does help to first commit it to memory (it's short!). I find it helpful to say the words silently or aloud at various points in the day, as a reminder of God's presence.</p>Ἅγιος ὁ Θεός </div><div>Ἅγιος ἰσχυρός </div><div>Ἅγιος ἀθάνατος </div><div>ἐλέησον ἡμᾶς<p>It's also helpful to set aside a few moments each day to reflect more deeply upon the words. Speak each phrase slowly and then sit with it awhile. What images come to mind for you? What feelings does it evoke? You may even want to jot a few down. </p><p>The hope is that this simple but profound devotion will draw you ever nearer to the heart of the Holy One. Which, in the end, is what this season of expectation is all about.</p></div><p></p></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-40627230410690970572021-11-23T16:50:00.001-05:002021-11-23T16:50:29.265-05:00In Good Faith: Stuffed With Gratitude<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In the Thanksgiving edition of my </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about carbs and why this year feels especially filled with gratitude.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Stuffed with Gratitude</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s finally happening. After years of conformity, our family has at last spoken the silent part out </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghY6PufprQ36FdkhKTdUJDLdvCLE036pGvGO_ppvZ7ftUpdOzUckqf32Dtcyj0jZlT-VE0V5T0Dn4J2NIdYgjXfyp3120npMtIZ-RV8T6oWLFvMu4KfXIAE12VsVkccO6qy1YcQuFSCnY/s642/169544_640x428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="428" data-original-width="642" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghY6PufprQ36FdkhKTdUJDLdvCLE036pGvGO_ppvZ7ftUpdOzUckqf32Dtcyj0jZlT-VE0V5T0Dn4J2NIdYgjXfyp3120npMtIZ-RV8T6oWLFvMu4KfXIAE12VsVkccO6qy1YcQuFSCnY/s320/169544_640x428.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />loud: we don’t love turkey. I mean, we all think it’s “fine.” There’s nothing inherently wrong with it. For years, we’ve gamely forked a bit of white and/or dark meat onto our plates, passed the platter, and politely asked someone to please pass the gravy. But shouldn’t the Super Bowl of feasts arouse culinary excitement and anticipation, rather than a humdrum feels-like-any-other-Thursday vibe?</span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“But it’s tradition!” you say. Well actually, if you’ll permit me a moment of mansplaining, there was no turkey served at the first Thanksgiving. The predominant dish was freshly killed deer, and there was also a boatload of Cod, which makes sense given the location. Lobster too, apparently, and I’d be happy to fully honor our heritage and go that route, if only everyone in my family ate lobster. And it wasn’t clocking in at $15 a pound. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now, don’t get me wrong. Our family isn’t comprised of a bunch of unenthusiastic tradition thwarters. We all love the Thanksgiving side dishes and, of course, the pies. Personally, I’m all about the carbs. The mashed potatoes, the stuffing, the cornbread. Bring. It. On. And I don’t care how low-brow it is, I always insist on Stove Top stuffing. Go ahead and make your fancy stuffing — I’ll probably have some of that too. As long as I get my annual allotment of Stove Top, I’m happy.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Food preferences aside, this year, more than anything, is about the people. We know it’s <i>supposed </i>to be about the people, but food and football often serve as helpful distractions to our respective dysfunctional families. The distasteful political commentary, the old family wounds, the painful shadow and ensuing shame of perfectionism. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yet after last year’s Thanksgiving, which left many among us feeling isolated and distanced from family, this year feels different. Yes, we’re still living in the midst of a global pandemic, but vaccines and boosters have allowed us to gather more safely. Nothing is without risk these days, but the mental health benefits of in-person gatherings, with proper precautions taken, are well documented. We need one another, and it is a good and joyful thing to gather together.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As you do so, please remember our Native American siblings for whom this day is remembered less as a day of gratitude and more as a day of mourning. Those feelings of isolation and distance which we felt last year are experienced every year by indigenous people throughout this nation. This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t gather and feast, but it does mean approaching the table with historical perspective and the awareness that our actions have consequences. Giving thanks to God and being grateful for the bounty that surrounds us can and should incorporate the tears of those who mourn. Which only adds depth and realism to our day of gratitude. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Of course, family being family, it took forever to agree on a substitute main dish. All sorts of proposals were floated from Cornish hen to filet mignon to Chicken McNuggets. In the end, we all agreed on the ultimate comfort food: homemade chicken pot pie. I can live with that. So hold the turkey; but please do pass the carbs.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-40132125273312011252021-11-22T18:58:00.001-05:002021-11-22T18:58:28.874-05:00Clergy, Coffee & Conversation <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin54xfO5WubFZywOF2Ft-BcDVUTh-UpKOVxh8GT_NPFe-p96V6o72xKpz9xidrcePBfdRI0RjJPDB9HqWDzKZIQfHdGv-1EfV-vTv4U4w89-D5u5gnKgIRmLHj5XKQRFIQfWRdPl2wSIw/s158/safe_image.php-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="158" data-original-width="158" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin54xfO5WubFZywOF2Ft-BcDVUTh-UpKOVxh8GT_NPFe-p96V6o72xKpz9xidrcePBfdRI0RjJPDB9HqWDzKZIQfHdGv-1EfV-vTv4U4w89-D5u5gnKgIRmLHj5XKQRFIQfWRdPl2wSIw/s0/safe_image.php-2.jpeg" width="158" /></a></div>I'm grateful to Steve Opalenik of <a href="https://theprometheanproject.org">The Promethean Project</a> for inviting me onto his Break the Chains podcast. It was a great and wide-ranging conversation! <p></p><p>Steve is a licensed mental health counselor and, once upon a time, he and Bryna were colleagues at Bay State Community Services, where Bryna is now the Director of Development and Community Relations. He's also a terrific interviewer, basically the Oprah of the Massachusetts mental health podcast universe. </p><p>Seriously, he is good at drawing out his guests and inviting introspection. His passion for physical and mental wellness also comes shining through his conversations.</p><p>We spoke about coffee, church, faith, dogs, dog poop, and...Bryna. Listen to the podcast and you'll learn her reaction to my telling her I felt a calling to the priesthood, while we were engaged. Yes, I told her in a public place.</p><p>You can <a href="https://open.spotify.com/episode/3717pkcsoq2Y0HKwrRj7j3?si=nWOk6th5TdSw3T2e34S8-w&fbclid=IwAR3_ftazpVsaVMS_npsxtvmRlKj6M-IAQRuBYozBH7fbX9PFWkt5qvlaSaw&nd=1">listen to our conversation here</a>. Enjoy!</p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-89120877400118218612021-10-20T19:28:00.000-04:002021-10-20T19:28:06.510-04:00Hybrid Ministry<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAn2r7AHnUU_Nyke09Ob8tvS5iYmOwsrZFdeYC-RVtmtjyMAm5sWLyhOKtBorVvAzn6ttyIbi7NNylRI5YmVVFYZTiZbnPTeiLwPmq1J88wxz1Taoqbxi8x7MflfCcMTnhC1VDObO3hrY/s960/164606803_10223906862010193_8591260444443579431_n-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAn2r7AHnUU_Nyke09Ob8tvS5iYmOwsrZFdeYC-RVtmtjyMAm5sWLyhOKtBorVvAzn6ttyIbi7NNylRI5YmVVFYZTiZbnPTeiLwPmq1J88wxz1Taoqbxi8x7MflfCcMTnhC1VDObO3hrY/w320-h240/164606803_10223906862010193_8591260444443579431_n-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">As you may know, I've been an early and strong advocate for hybrid ministry as we move (slowly) into becoming the post-pandemic Church. I wanted to commend to you a series of three articles written by Neva Rae Fox for <i>The Living Church</i> over the past several months that deal with this very issue.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Yes, I'm quoted in these articles, but there are also many others with strong insights and various opinions. I would encourage Vestries and other church leaders to use these as conversation starters for their own contexts.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The most recent article, which came out this week, is titled <i><a href="https://livingchurch.org/2021/10/12/is-there-a-place-for-post-pandemic-hybrid-worship/?fbclid=IwAR2u6gu0G34l8ZNYkgzlerDfmsLv4RxOboB9JDd9tbrEQvQ0xhjpwu1SGdA">Is There a Place for Post-Pandemic Hybrid Worship?</a> </i>[Spoiler Alert: Yes]</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The previous two are <a href="https://livingchurch.org/2021/06/09/the-hybrid-church-what-is-it-part-1/"><i>The Hybrid Church: What is It?</i></a> (part 1) and <i><a href="https://livingchurch.org/2021/07/07/presenting-hybrid-church-effectively-part-2/">Presenting Hybrid Church Effectively</a> </i>(part 2).</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">And if you're seeking additional information on hybrid ministry, here's a video I put together on the topic, which includes my 8 Tenets for Hybrid Ministry. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="329" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wj-4IJ3Mv3Q" width="470" youtube-src-id="wj-4IJ3Mv3Q"></iframe></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; text-align: left;"> </span></div></blockquote></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I'd love to hear any thoughts you may have on this topic or experiences with hybrid ministry you'd be willing to share. In the meantime, stay safe out there and keep the faith!</span></p><p> </p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-57639875360028765832021-10-18T19:06:00.003-04:002021-10-18T19:06:33.199-04:00In Good Faith: Walking Humbly<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In the October edition of my </i>In Good Faith column<i>, I write about the joys of dog ownership and the importance of humility.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Walking Humbly</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On most days, at some point, I can be seen walking down the street carrying a bag of poop. This</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab5ORd8hDV9GaTMG5j-Im12T9qDkmbeUIiJl2HFhxg9K8MC3nikKO85Yl3nb8X4P9XSxtwmi3bQOzW38cHN90O1eq4CLll6NNe4eHVDip4R8RReeAj037EY8O-nnWHuW6xvKUt0c5FeI/s960/244392644_10225009407213134_7604620986598604099_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="774" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab5ORd8hDV9GaTMG5j-Im12T9qDkmbeUIiJl2HFhxg9K8MC3nikKO85Yl3nb8X4P9XSxtwmi3bQOzW38cHN90O1eq4CLll6NNe4eHVDip4R8RReeAj037EY8O-nnWHuW6xvKUt0c5FeI/w280-h347/244392644_10225009407213134_7604620986598604099_n.jpg" width="280" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">would be a much stranger sight if I didn’t also have one or both of our dogs walking beside me. Yet I find that this small, simple act of dog ownership helps on the humility front. It’s hard to have an outsized view of yourself when you literally carry dog poop around town in a brightly colored bag on a daily basis. </span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As Americans, we’re generally not too big on humility. We’re more into keeping up appearances and keeping up with the Joneses. We’re taught to seize the day, that might makes right, that only the strong survive. Rather than lifting up humility as a virtue, we’re more inclined to equate humility with weakness. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And that’s too bad. Because if we all genuinely embraced humility, I’m pretty sure the world in which we live would be a much more enjoyable place these days. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Maintaining a healthy and realistic view of one’s own importance isn’t about low self-esteem or self-renunciation. Rather, it’s about lifting others up, leaving space for those beyond ourselves to function more fully in the world around us. It’s about listening to voices besides our own and opening ourselves up to differing viewpoints.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Perhaps not surprisingly, I believe our current political landscape could use a dose of humility. Our politicians could stand to dial back the self-aggrandizement, and people on all sides might recognize that they may, even occasionally, not have all the answers. The amplification of one’s own views on social media surely doesn’t help with the ensuing divisiveness. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">From a faith perspective, without humility we tend to forget our place in the world. Our self-righteousness can take over and we slowly, but surely put ourselves on the same plane with God, rather than taking our place as humble servants of God. Which, in the religion business, is called sin. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Of course, even faith leaders are not immune to a lack of humility. Joel Osteen drives a Ferrari. There are clerics who revel in the opulence of their office, more concerned with status than service. Which doesn’t leave much room for humility, for giving away power and prestige, rather than stockpiling it. Nor does it speak to the one who humbled himself on a cross. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Embracing humility doesn’t mean spiritual groveling. We are indeed worthy to stand before God, and we should live with the sure confidence that we are truly and wholly loved by God. But setting ourselves over and above other members of God’s creation is neither spiritually sustainable nor how God intends for us to walk through this world. Which is easy to forget in this age of self-affirmation and self-reliance and self-indulgence and self-justification.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What is it that keeps you humble? It may be walking down Main Street carrying a bag of poop; it may be listening to others before sharing your opinion on Facebook; it may be acknowledging a mistake at work rather than blaming a co-worker. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I invite you to reflect upon ways that you might walk more humbly through this world of ours. Dogs, of course, are optional. </span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-19054909014734178802021-08-17T08:36:00.004-04:002021-08-17T16:32:12.629-04:00In Good Faith: Hometown Hauntings<p><span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my August </i>In Good Faith<i> column (written on vacation!), I write about visiting my hometown of Baltimore and a Bruce Springsteen song I can't get out of my head.</i></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Hometown Hauntings</b></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Maybe it’s because his daughter won a medal in equestrian at the Tokyo Olympics. Or perhaps</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IBJNtFYYnNBT06JlUTWm3oj9lu050VBry349Dwt21a9nmCi3hhMb-8a5QW4i35v7n-Mqg-rT1NxL6sTOT_2FfGd31NJNtl3vER-oUzJSeM3rNFowNsGNp6i4TdKzDcozZhKIkAQqSrk/s500/jimmys_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4IBJNtFYYnNBT06JlUTWm3oj9lu050VBry349Dwt21a9nmCi3hhMb-8a5QW4i35v7n-Mqg-rT1NxL6sTOT_2FfGd31NJNtl3vER-oUzJSeM3rNFowNsGNp6i4TdKzDcozZhKIkAQqSrk/s320/jimmys_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">it’s because I was back home in Baltimore last week visiting my family. But either way, I haven’t been able to get Bruce Springsteen’s song “</span><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77gKSp8WoRg" style="font-family: arial;">My Hometown</a><span style="font-family: arial;">” off his </span><i style="font-family: arial;">Born in the USA</i><span style="font-family: arial;"> album out of my head this week.</span><p></p><p></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Granted, it’s not the most uplifting track. It’s quite haunting actually, as it tells the now familiar story of an old manufacturing town racked by economic woes and racial strife. By the last verse, the narrator has made the decision to move his own young family out of his “hometown” to seek opportunity elsewhere.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I’m not trying to depress you here. But there is always a strong dose of nostalgia, and even some regret, when we visit our hometowns. There’s often great joy, too, of course. I loved being with my family and watching the five cousins joyfully interacting with one another. Nothing beats that. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But when you return to a place you haven’t lived for 25 years, there is a tangible sense of loss when reflecting on those no-longer-there places that make up your earliest memories. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I drive by the little league field of dreams where I played a mean shortstop for the Bulldozers and see luxury condos, it hurts a little. When I pass my favorite ice cream shop and notice it’s become a dentist’s office, that’s painful. It’s not that we want to live in the past — life goes on, change is inevitable. But it can’t help but feel as if a small part of us has died along the way, a part that we’ll never get back.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Not to be overly dramatic about, say, Jimmy’s Restaurant closing in Fell’s Point (I still can’t believe <i>that</i> one), but it’s okay to take a moment to grieve such losses. To reminisce with old friends and family members about the places and people that meant so much to us, once upon a time. And to remember that it’s not really about the buildings themselves, but about those with whom we shared the experiences.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The kaleidoscope of cherished memories makes up a strong part of our identity, which is precisely the pull of a return to our hometown. It may be bittersweet — memories can be both life-giving and soul-trampling. But, taken together, they help form who we are as individuals.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The good news is that wherever life takes you, whether you’ve stayed in your hometown or moved away, God loves you for who you are. No matter where you’ve gone or what you’ve done or what’s been done to you, God loves you. And I don’t think it’s possible to ever state that enough.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">They say home is where the heart is. Which, when you think about it, offers great freedom to those of us who have left the places of our early roots. Your heart moves with you. Yet even knowing that, it’s okay to acknowledge that a piece of our heart may well remain behind. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And I still can’t believe I’ll never again eat a BLT at Jimmy’s Restaurant.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-35699720735051520472021-07-13T13:58:00.005-04:002021-07-13T13:58:39.401-04:00In Good Faith: For the Love of Dog<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my latest </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about the loss of our sweet 18-year-old family dog. </i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">For the Love of Dog</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We lost a beloved family member last week. Well, technically speaking she was a member of our “pack,” as that’s how dogs see themselves. But Delilah, our yellow lab/husky rescue left this mortal patch of earth after 18 years and three months. It was an amazing run, not just for the length of time but for the love she doled out along the way.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Officially, Delilah was not a therapy dog, but she had her own ministry of presence at the </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJkVedo66I-EdVPaaf32duJDlQgoTYQk4CzDXIOzTqOH7-EBT189-_V3Z_l4dbU6Sd_bHUAFlZTcAJP9PZrLFuck8rNzvGk7fEp44t_QADQFiQAFCLsHh0v1ObKP0SAjq8i7OdiGT2mY/s640/IMG_0213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJkVedo66I-EdVPaaf32duJDlQgoTYQk4CzDXIOzTqOH7-EBT189-_V3Z_l4dbU6Sd_bHUAFlZTcAJP9PZrLFuck8rNzvGk7fEp44t_QADQFiQAFCLsHh0v1ObKP0SAjq8i7OdiGT2mY/s320/IMG_0213.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />parishes I’ve served in both New York and Massachusetts. From welcoming visitors to comforting bereaved families to visiting nursing homes to putting children at ease, Delilah was a faithful companion to so many. Frankly, she was a more faithful pastor than I could ever hope to be, sprinkling unconditional love around with reckless abandon. </span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Before being furloughed by both the pandemic and arthritis, Delilah came to work with me nearly every day. I know this was more unusual before all of our pets became co-workers over the past year-and-a-half of working from home. But she embraced her role and her commute, enthusiastically bounding up the stairs from the rectory to the church.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Delilah also served as a marker of time for our family. She journeyed with our children from elementary school to their early 20s; she’s been in every one of our Christmas cards for the past 17 years; she endured countless goldfish, two ferrets, and even our now three-year-old <i>other </i>dog; she accompanied us on an interstate move and countless other adventures. Delilah has simply been there, through all the sorrows and joys and messiness of life. She has seen it all and yet remained overjoyed to see us each and every day.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As anyone who has loved and lost a pet knows, the grief is real. There’s an emptiness that transcends the physical emptiness of the dog bowl and creates a paw-shaped hole in your heart. But it’s also part of the deal. We bring pets into our homes, give them our hearts, love them, allow them to minister to us in ways great and small, and then cherish the memories when they’re gone. The love is as fierce as the grief.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Although I realize it offers comfort to many, I’m less enamored of the whole notion of the “Rainbow Bridge,” that mythical crossing animals make from this world to the next. I am, however, keenly aware of the rainbow that forms over Noah’s ark in the book of Genesis. The rainbow that emerges after the flood, is a sign of God’s promise to never abandon God’s people. As the storm subsides and the rainbow appears, God says, “I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #010000; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #010000; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I believe our beloved pets are part of this covenant, and I’m convinced they play an integral role in our relationship with the divine. Through them, we glimpse God’s love for all humanity. In the ways that our pets comfort us and care for us and cuddle with us and even, at times, confound us, we see the very face of God. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of Delilah’s great joys in life was stretching out in the backyard and soaking in the sunshine. She could literally do this for hours. Besides the reminder to all of us to enjoy the present moment, something so many of us struggle with, I also hear echoes of the 23rd Psalm as I envision Delilah now lying down in green pastures and reveling in the celestial sun. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And as the storm of grief abates, I look forward to reveling in the vivid, multi-colored, rainbow-like memories of Delilah that will cheer us all in the days ahead.</span></p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-10657710034300557832021-07-13T13:56:00.001-04:002021-07-13T13:56:06.426-04:00In Good Faith: Pushing Back Against Period Poverty<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my June In Good Faith column, I write about menstruation. Yes, you read that correctly. </i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Pushing Back Against Period Poverty </span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Growing up, my lone sibling was a brother. As a parent, I have two sons. Needless to say, menstruation has never been a big topic of dinner table conversation. But that’s changed in recent weeks. I’ve been talking about menstruation not only at the dinner table but at church on Sunday mornings and even with virtual strangers.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That’s because we have a new ministry at our parish that seeks to address period poverty. Free. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2uuhAQfrDsQoxAx_EGZT-48wqnki4mVJNGfxfplh6x9r81BPROsnxWOMFq5RJK3xc20C0WCzAqgKzLsPjjRMJNsf8QW4SxJcKcjY3ExZt_DBG0D0hVOZ-pqLAOvsJJinMyKBQWyOe9Q/s640/image_50457857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2uuhAQfrDsQoxAx_EGZT-48wqnki4mVJNGfxfplh6x9r81BPROsnxWOMFq5RJK3xc20C0WCzAqgKzLsPjjRMJNsf8QW4SxJcKcjY3ExZt_DBG0D0hVOZ-pqLAOvsJJinMyKBQWyOe9Q/s320/image_50457857.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />(pronounced ‘free period’) provides free menstruation products to those in need on the South Shore, but the need transcends local geography.</span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">During the pandemic, one of my parishioners became aware of the lack of available products when she and her daughter went to drop off supplies at a local non-profit collection site. Kenzie Blackwell noticed mountains of deodorant and toothpaste but very few menstruation supplies. This got her thinking about the need on a broader level, led her to research the issue, and Free. was born soon after. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What’s shocking to so many, and was certainly news to me, is that these products are not covered by benefits. And this gap presents yet another barrier to equality in education and employment as people are forced to miss school or work simply because they don’t have the means to address a basic biological function. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Period poverty, which is defined as, “inadequate access to menstrual hygiene tools,” has been with us for generations. Unfortunately, it has traditionally been shrouded in shame — which is why Kenzie refers to period poverty as a hidden need. Many prefer to avoid the topic and lose opportunities rather than ask for help. In addition, few organizations offer the needed supplies, in some cases because they are unaware of the need and in others because it’s not deemed a subject for polite company.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At root, I think of this as a theological issue, which is why I’m proud our church has embraced this cause. As people of faith, we vow to respect the dignity of every human being and this is, ultimately, an issue of respect and dignity. The mission of Free. is to ensure that a basic biological function, one instituted by God in the creation of humanity, doesn’t act as a barrier to living a full and fruitful life. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So in addition to collecting products for distribution to partner agencies, we also hope to raise awareness nationally and encourage other faith-based organizations and non-profits to take up the mantle of this long-hidden issue of equity that directly impacts so many. If you’re interested in starting a Free. chapter in your own context, would like more information, or would be willing to make a donation, please don’t hesitate to be in touch. For more information, visit the Free. Facebook page at www.facebook.com/Free.Period.Ministry. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">As a society, we can and must do better. And the first step is to normalize conversations around period poverty. Which is why I will continue to talk about menstruation and the ripple effects it has on people in need. Even if that means making the occasional conversation partner a bit uncomfortable in the process. </span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-10146292915333534552021-04-30T19:39:00.004-04:002021-04-30T19:39:48.562-04:00In Good Faith: Liberty and Justice for ALL<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my latest </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about the Derek Chauvin verdict, the discovery of Harriet Tubman's childhood home, and the ongoing work of racial justice.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Liberty and Justice for ALL</span></b></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">On the very day the much-anticipated verdict in the Derek Chauvin trial was handed down, I was struck by another headline that crossed my newsfeed. Given the events of the day, it didn’t garner a whole lot of attention. But the home where Harriet Tubman likely grew up was discovered by archaeologists on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. After years of searching, they found the remains of the place where Harriet lived as an enslaved child with her parents. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This homestead, surrounded by woods, was the place where the woman known as the </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmKVV_WM89Hh3OW3k6pYLhvedvu_ud7MOJ-_FBq2KUcZNConOXlw9JQJO67GqDCCR5iABF3IrwSUFK29H6YmPHKTFdN_ksc_M2zTgU7FK2AbOTgCrsBTMcKL6gN2aTIVIViNXfm9E7JU/s1165/harriet-tubman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1165" data-original-width="824" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmKVV_WM89Hh3OW3k6pYLhvedvu_ud7MOJ-_FBq2KUcZNConOXlw9JQJO67GqDCCR5iABF3IrwSUFK29H6YmPHKTFdN_ksc_M2zTgU7FK2AbOTgCrsBTMcKL6gN2aTIVIViNXfm9E7JU/s320/harriet-tubman.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br />Conductor on the Underground Railroad first learned to navigate and survive. It was also likely the place where she came to the crushing realization that freedom in America was not extended to people who looked like her. </span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The juxtaposition of these two stories resonated with me, but it took a parishioner of mine, a black woman from whom I’ve learned much over the years, to highlight the real significance of this connection between these two events. She related the varied emotions we were feeling in the aftermath of the Chavin verdict, back to Harriet Tubman’s experience on the Underground Railroad. For as much joy as there may have been in leading someone from slavery to freedom, in successfully navigating that hard road from bondage to liberty, it was tempered by the fact that there were always others who remained in chains. There were always more slaves to lead into freedom; there was always more work to be done.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And even as <i>one</i> police officer was held accountable in the killing of <i>one</i> unarmed black man, there is always more work to be done in the fight for racial equality. The tragic reality is that true equality for people of color in this country remains elusive. Blood continues to be spilled and the deep wailing of grief continues to pierce our hearts. We proclaim “liberty and justice for all,” even as all are not experiencing liberty and justice. And that is a failure. A failure of humanity, a failure of lofty rhetoric, a failure of faith. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Because, and I’m speaking to my fellow white people here, we cannot remain silent while our black and brown siblings are crying out for justice. We cannot stand idly by or walk on by while our fellow children of God are living in fear and crying out in pain and wailing in grief. At least not if we seek to embody what it means to love our neighbors as our selves.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What I hope people recognize is that racism is not something that exclusively affects people of color. It is destructive first and foremost to our black and brown siblings, yes. It rips away dignity through discrimination, it bruises emotionally and physically, it tears down economically and socially. But the sin of racism — for that’s what it is — also eats away at white people. From a faith perspective, it prevents us from living into the fullness of God’s kingdom here on earth. Racism distances us from God and inhibits us from being the people of love, grace, and compassion that God has called us to be. From a human perspective, racism clogs our hearts with hate and destroys us from the inside out. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This week has reminded all of us that, as with Harriet Tubman — the woman known as the Moses of her People — there is always more work to be done. We owe it to our friends of color, as well as to ourselves, to roll up our sleeves and continue on. Until no human child of God is treated as less than exactly that, the work of anti-racism must continue.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-16165208919892890042021-03-18T08:05:00.003-04:002021-03-19T09:32:36.950-04:00In Good Faith: Shielding the Joyous<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my latest </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about my fear of needles, vaccine selfies, and joy amidst grief.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Shielding the Joyous</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Needles make me squeamish. It’s always been that way, even though my kindly pediatrician was</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPg9axlhsU_hyphenhyphen2cwvagKGxj_B7QxXM8QhkVCdIXxNJ44DqX5oIOINESm5ZEmcTGGoj8tSxBKawilKOF50i4bp1Kxrin8O3hH2jIACKpZhSW5YfpcLttWWjs_MHHVT9pSu8m4SILhSat4/s549/COVID-19+Vaccine-iStock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="549" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqPg9axlhsU_hyphenhyphen2cwvagKGxj_B7QxXM8QhkVCdIXxNJ44DqX5oIOINESm5ZEmcTGGoj8tSxBKawilKOF50i4bp1Kxrin8O3hH2jIACKpZhSW5YfpcLttWWjs_MHHVT9pSu8m4SILhSat4/w291-h194/COVID-19+Vaccine-iStock.jpg" width="291" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">a family friend. I dreaded going to his office as a kid, like a medieval prisoner headed to the rack. I still have to look away whenever a nurse administers a shot during some hospital scene on a TV show, and ask my wife to tell me when it’s safe to resume watching. There was never a question of whether or not I’d be a pre-med major in college. </span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So let’s just say the news has been hard to watch of late. As the vaccine distribution program has thankfully ramped up, there sure have been lots of close-ups of needles going into arms. It feels like camera operators take particular glee in the precise moment the needle breaks skin. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And this doesn’t even begin to cover the vaccination selfies on Facebook. They are ubiquitous these days. In fact, I’m not sure if the vaccine is even fully effective if it’s not accompanied with a social media posting.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This isn’t to disparage those who share these photos. Especially at the beginning, when first responders or elderly parents were getting vaccinated in the first wave, this was cause of great jubilation and hope. And as we move toward herd immunity, seeing needles all over Instagram is a small price to pay. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yet I’m aware that these photos are hard to see for some — and not just for the squeamish among us. For those eagerly waiting for their vaccine turn, and the return of some form of normalcy, there’s a hint of jealousy at play. Yes, we’ll all get there. But for the isolated and lonely, the extroverted and the restless, patience is often elusive. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It’s been a long, hard, trying year for everyone. We ache for human contact and connection, for the routines and rituals of regular social interaction. Seeing some get there sooner than others, as happy as we may be for them and as important as we know it is, leaves a portion of the population feeling left out. It’s temporary, of course, but it doesn’t minimize the feeling of being left behind. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There’s a curious line in a favorite prayer of mine that invites the Lord to “shield the joyous.” I think it speaks to the fleeting nature of joy in a world that has its fair share of pain. We seek to amplify the joy of receiving the vaccine, even as this joy is surrounded by the profound grief of living through a deadly global pandemic. We mourn for the over half a million people who have died from COVID-19 in this country alone. We empathize with those who continue to suffer from the virus’ long-term effects. We wait with those who have yet to receive the vaccine. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Whenever we end up getting vaccinated and returning to a modicum of pre-pandemic life, I pray that our joy will be shielded. That we will revel in once again being among those we most cherish, even as we recognize that not everyone is quite there yet, and some will never be.</span></p><div><br /></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-38881443062135489952021-02-11T20:04:00.001-05:002021-02-11T20:04:20.945-05:00#VirtualShrove - An Invitation<div class="" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of the best things about the Episcopal Church is the annual Shrove Tuesday Pancake <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4Z1GABPZ0rqkVo-HtHB3-sty__VNwY0O571Z8bcG7oox4Dm4BayyhBbvdm4wYgjXVRiE-9JPM8CcyB8yx3Rz_oizcpMduxfkDT3qQVLdJcQQ7vHAtHJMawETbfGtOXuaFefoNDqI2xo/s490/B-FjU0CCQAAWsex.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="345" data-original-width="490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4Z1GABPZ0rqkVo-HtHB3-sty__VNwY0O571Z8bcG7oox4Dm4BayyhBbvdm4wYgjXVRiE-9JPM8CcyB8yx3Rz_oizcpMduxfkDT3qQVLdJcQQ7vHAtHJMawETbfGtOXuaFefoNDqI2xo/s320/B-FjU0CCQAAWsex.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />Supper. Call it what you will -- Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday -- but in parish halls across the land, the day before Lent kicks off is all about the pancakes.</span></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">At the parish I serve, </span><a href="http://www.stjohns-hingham.org/" style="color: #245dba; text-decoration: none;">St. John's</a><span style="background-color: white;"> in Hingham, Massachusetts, it's one of the great highlights of the year with fabulous food, an intergenerational crowd, pancake races, and the ritual burning of the palms from last year's Palm Sunday service, which we use to make ashes for the next day's Ash Wednesday liturgies.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">But what you do when there's a pandemic and your community can't gather for the annual tradition? </span></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHhAKp7FMiSbhksYlfuB_8B2B43j0JZuT9bI7YtAeJ7V2ZH9jm2EogHTDE-wRfqY3QkXk9bR0FwZsXgoVRe_C-d7_zV84s1Kyuum1TB7oRM81sET8umuLtj1Lk7SXlFpNaGct3ODfuko/s1600/IMG_1219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; color: #245dba; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiHhAKp7FMiSbhksYlfuB_8B2B43j0JZuT9bI7YtAeJ7V2ZH9jm2EogHTDE-wRfqY3QkXk9bR0FwZsXgoVRe_C-d7_zV84s1Kyuum1TB7oRM81sET8umuLtj1Lk7SXlFpNaGct3ODfuko/w240-h320/IMG_1219.jpg" style="-webkit-box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1) 1px 1px 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(24, 62, 124); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1) 1px 1px 5px; padding: 5px; position: relative;" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">We actually have experience with this because in 2016, amid the infamous Snowmageddon, we had to hold a Virtual Shrove Tuesday Pancake Supper due to the INSANE amount of snow (plus a burst pipe to add to the fun). </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Just as we did then, we encourage you to join in your own feast by...</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">eating pancakes on Tuesday!</span><span style="clear: right; color: #245dba; display: inline !important; font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Whether it's for breakfast, lunch, or dinner (or all three!), eat pancakes and then </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">post pictures of your feast to social media with the hashtag #VirtualShrove. Whether you're eating pancakes alone or with your family, in a blinged out Mardi Gras mask or around a fire pit, why not show the world you're preparing for Lent?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white;">Oh, and if you're curious as to why it's called Shrove Tuesday? Here's the deal:</span></span></p><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">The day before Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, is known as Shrove Tuesday. To shrive someone, in old-fashioned English (he shrives, he shrove, he has shriven), is to hear an acknowledgement of sins, </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">assure</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"> the person of God's forgiveness, and to offer appropriate spiritual advice. The term survives today in ordinary usage in the expression "short shrift." To give someone short shrift is to pay very little attention to someone's excuses or problems. The longer expression is, "to give short shrift and a long rope," which formerly meant to hang a criminal with a minimum of delay. </span></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;">Shrove Tuesday is also called Fat Tuesday (in French, Mardi Gras) because on that day a thrifty housewife would use up the fats that she had kept around for cooking (the can of bacon drippings for instance). Fatty foods would not be eaten during the penitential season of Lent. Since pancakes were a standard way of using up fat, this day became associated with them. Which is why, of course, so many parishes hold Shrove Tuesday pancake suppers. So this last day before Lent has become the 'feast' to prepare for the time of 'famine' in the desert. </span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: arial;">May your pancakes be fluffy and your preparations, despite the circumstances, joyful. Stay safe out there, friends.</span></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-16270839348942672522021-02-11T08:15:00.000-05:002021-02-11T08:15:20.668-05:00In Good Faith: A Many-Splendored Thing<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my February </i>In Good Faith <i>column, I write about the many-splendored opportunities to demonstrate love during a pandemic.</i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">A Many-Splendored Thing</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">“Love is a many-splendored thing.” I could have <i>sworn</i> that was a line from Shakespeare and not </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1jEmjrv-R9TNtxBo40a0hzViXliMN6gQS7L0j1niCHbDIlvYypM5-KCdKHYEI1Fu-pr_HR78XaqoNeBAZHFw_MziQCkuMHOZJtnFHbFnPYT5NljMq5IuqlH5cRUbi7CjbHvL1kKfi_I/s480/hqdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1jEmjrv-R9TNtxBo40a0hzViXliMN6gQS7L0j1niCHbDIlvYypM5-KCdKHYEI1Fu-pr_HR78XaqoNeBAZHFw_MziQCkuMHOZJtnFHbFnPYT5NljMq5IuqlH5cRUbi7CjbHvL1kKfi_I/s320/hqdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">just a line with a link to the 1950s. A novel, a song, and a film of that title were all released in that post-war decade. Alas. I was even willing to spell it “splendoured” to make it look more Shakespearean.</span><p></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Love is in the air this week with the imminent arrival of Valentine’s Day. Never mind that we can’t touch or breathe on other people these days, let alone hug or kiss them. And never mind that the day commemorates a third century priest who was beaten and stoned before his beheading at the hand of the Roman emperor for marrying couples in the Christian faith. So romantic!</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But, since love is indeed a many-splendored thing, I’ve been reflecting on the different ways we’ve loved one another during this pandemic. Ironically enough, we’ve shown the greatest love for one another by staying apart. We’ve sacrificed the intimacy of friendships and extended family relationships by picking up the phone or logging onto Zoom. Rather than going over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house, we FaceTimed her. We found new ways to safely gather with friends, forsaking the indoor hearth for the outdoor fire pit. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At the parish I serve, we’ve been fully remote for worship for nearly a year. Of course, we ache to be with one another in-person, but our context and guiding principle of loving our neighbor precludes that, and we’re willing to wait until it’s safe for us all to regather. This is an act of love, as difficult as it may be. And while our worship may be virtual, our faith is surely not. Which is why we’ve stayed connected to God and one another throughout this time.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">While wearing masks has unfortunately been politicized, this too is ultimately an act of love. We wear masks as tangible signs that we care about our fellow human beings. Love involves sacrificing our own interests for the greater common good. Masks, in addition to being practical shields against a deadly virus, are symbols of our love for others. What would Jesus do? He’d wear a mask.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One act of love that’s inspired me recently came about after a phone call from one of my parishioners. She had just spent <i>hours </i>online seeking to secure vaccine appointments for her parents. After successfully working through the serpentine system, she wondered if we might form a small team of tech savvy folks to help older parishioners secure appointments. Within the hour, we were doing just that — providing resources, making calls, and navigating online portals on behalf of folks for whom the entire process was daunting. I’m convinced St. Valentine himself would have been proud of this effort.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I invite you to think about the creative ways you have shown love these past months; ways in which you have forged connections and deepened relationships amid trying circumstances. These are all displays of humanity at its very best. Sure, “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet” (definitely Shakespeare). But even without the dozen roses emblematic of romantic love, love is a many-splendored thing. For love is what gives life meaning and infuses it, even during this season of pandemic, with hope.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-14687937827095974882021-01-15T08:40:00.002-05:002021-01-15T08:40:28.225-05:00In Good Faith: Can We Handle the Truth?<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my January </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about the Capitol insurrection, truth, and the legacy of Oscar Romero.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Can We Handle the Truth?</b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I was on sabbatical a couple years ago, I visited a coffee farm in El Salvador, high up in </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieP0J1nlPzLDSS2hANDUKKvbTjVR7iOEG-3prww5U1-FPZTICA0k97YczCBzHTeEVVECUQojU4aWGN9rsIYiyPy3MnMmliU8-cX62_ikz_dvnMgQofdMOMj4xmV7rPvBrWuCi1bFZdCg8/s960/29542286_10215329960673020_8915057146341926622_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieP0J1nlPzLDSS2hANDUKKvbTjVR7iOEG-3prww5U1-FPZTICA0k97YczCBzHTeEVVECUQojU4aWGN9rsIYiyPy3MnMmliU8-cX62_ikz_dvnMgQofdMOMj4xmV7rPvBrWuCi1bFZdCg8/s320/29542286_10215329960673020_8915057146341926622_n.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">the hills near Santa Ana. The farm had been in the same family for generations and it was a beautiful piece of property with coffee plants growing under canopies of banana trees. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">At one time there was a grand manor house on the plantation, but now all that remained were the ruins. It had been destroyed in the Salvadoran Civil War that started in the late 1970s. As I ran my hand along exterior walls still pockmarked by bullet holes, it was difficult to imagine the violence and bloodshed that had taken place just a few decades before.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Watching the images from our nation’s capital last week, reminded me of that day in Central America. Civil war, political violence, the inciting of riots, reckless rhetoric, armed gunmen, the destruction of property, murder — these are all things I never thought could take place here in our country. Not because we’re better than anyone else — we surely are not — but because mob violence unleashed in the halls of Congress is inconsistent with the yearning for a more just and perfect Union. The cognitive dissonance between the rhetoric of our stated values and the reality of what we witnessed was both striking and heartbreaking.</span></p><p></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Collectively, we watched the violation of a treasured national symbol unfold in real time, as it was desecrated by rioters, conspiracy theorists, white nationalists, and insurrectionists, some bearing Confederate flags and others wearing t-shirts with anti-semitic slogans. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">When I was on that coffee farm, I met the owner of the property, and he was a proud and gracious host. Over lunch I asked him about Oscar Romero, the former archbishop of El Salvador. I figured maybe he’d encountered him at some point and had a story to share about this saintly soul who risked everything to lift up his country’s poor and vulnerable populations. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">But at the first mention of Romero’s name, the man’s face clouded over. The charm dripped away into an icy stare and it dawned on me that, while I naively assumed everyone in the country loved and admired Romero and treasured him as a national hero, the ruling class did not. It was anti-government rebels who had destroyed the family home, and the monied class was strongly allied with the repressive military regime against which Romero had railed. Romero was a truth-teller, an advocate for social justice, an ally of the oppressed, one who condemned violence and torture, and a man whose vision of equality for all people contrasted sharply with the ideology and practices of a power hungry dictator. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The day after preaching a sermon in which he called on all soldiers, as Christians, to stop carrying out the government’s orders to violate its citizens’ basic human rights, Oscar Romero was assassinated while standing at the altar celebrating mass; martyred for telling the truth.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">If you’re a politician, truth-telling won’t necessarily get you reelected or make you popular with your base. And yet, if there is anything this country needs right now, it’s more truth-tellers. Leaders with the courage to stand up, despite the political winds, and tell people the truth without spin or bias or personal interest. We need less flag waving — whether that’s an American flag or a flag emblazoned with the name of a particular candidate — and more truth-telling. We need courageous truth-tellers to hold us all accountable when we stray from our national ideals, just as Archbishop Romero held the oppressors in El Salvador accountable for their despicable actions.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8E0A4OzgyGb7fUeD0fLZ5euQKmfEL_tNBiKKwqbU8EqUKVyvP5melCoCcq2E3gGLwPDYsGWR1r3J0_5BVwj-G8Y9p_WLNoxD_X_r7kZ9rO9pdoammj4WUBJOuIgWVxJq7RiBfJZ1biA/s960/29468795_10215329959792998_8934544101010402390_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr8E0A4OzgyGb7fUeD0fLZ5euQKmfEL_tNBiKKwqbU8EqUKVyvP5melCoCcq2E3gGLwPDYsGWR1r3J0_5BVwj-G8Y9p_WLNoxD_X_r7kZ9rO9pdoammj4WUBJOuIgWVxJq7RiBfJZ1biA/s320/29468795_10215329959792998_8934544101010402390_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">I’m not sure what our collective future holds as a nation. But I do know that we can disagree without demonizing one another. That we can seek truth rather than spreading falsehood. That we can repent for the ways in which we have not lived up to our values. That what we witnessed last week wasn’t merely an aberration, it was a reflection of America in 2021. And that if the bodies of those who stormed the Capitol building had been black and brown rather than white, those hallways would have been stained with blood. In the spirit of truth-tellers like Oscar Romero, we need to hear the uncomfortable truths. For only then can we begin to embody hope and unity, rather than division and despair.</span><p></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That old bullet-riddled manor house in El Salvador had since been converted into an open-air nursery. Gardeners lovingly tended the young coffee plants that would soon be placed deep into the farm’s rich soil. Out of destruction, injustice, and violence, the seeds of new life and growth were literally being sown. May we seek the freedom that surely abides in truth.</span></p><div><br /></div></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4381472662149763328.post-80656455376249393092020-12-23T09:49:00.001-05:002020-12-23T09:49:10.794-05:00In Good Faith: Christmas is Canceled?<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>In my December </i>In Good Faith<i> column, I write about the inability to steal or even cancel Christmas. </i></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: arial;">Christmas is Canceled?</span></b></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In a normal year, many of us would be heading over the river and through the woods to <br />grandmother’s house. But this is not a normal year and we don’t want to inadvertently give grandma COVID. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiZg5LwWh3HOMbOBv2WQQ8EaxJ-uEUCuG6rPn66DqYsRzOa3cj_H70FaoywmYqANyreq_7dqZuKTuPl6FJYkQeVYjlrpOpFI9mri6r6x4Bcg3_frBLfOeIfkhfZyPuRRZd51w0Sy3r64/s750/IMG_6234.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="750" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiZg5LwWh3HOMbOBv2WQQ8EaxJ-uEUCuG6rPn66DqYsRzOa3cj_H70FaoywmYqANyreq_7dqZuKTuPl6FJYkQeVYjlrpOpFI9mri6r6x4Bcg3_frBLfOeIfkhfZyPuRRZd51w0Sy3r64/s320/IMG_6234.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;">In a normal year, we might go Christmas caroling to wish our neighbors a Merry Christmas and demand some figgy pudding in return. But this is not a normal year, singing is a great way to spread the virus, and figgy pudding sounds dreadful. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In a normal year, the faithful would gather at church on Christmas Eve “joyful and triumphant” to welcome the newborn king. But this is not a normal year and, because we love one another, we’ll be holding services exclusively online. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yes, there is much to mourn this year. We miss the joy of being together with friends and loved ones; we miss hugs and cookie swaps and the sharing of holiday cheer; we grieve for the family and civic traditions that won’t happen; Christians miss the sights and sounds of gathering in sacred space to mark this holy time. On the surface of things, it all feels different because it <i>is </i>all different. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I stumbled upon a rather misleading headline in a British tabloid last week that proclaimed, “Christmas Canceled for Millions.” The subtext was a government decision to implement lockdown measures to combat a new strain of the coronavirus. And while I don’t doubt this will financially and socially impact many in England, the problem is, that’s not how Christmas works. As the classic Dr. Seuss story <i>How the Grinch Stole Christmas</i> reminds us, you can’t actually “steal” or even cancel Christmas. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And that’s the good news as we prepare to celebrate Christmas in unique ways this year. The trimmings and trappings, the parties and presents fade away, leaving us with the very essence of the celebration: love entering the world in human form. That love may show up in a stable, but it’s up to us to bring that love into our own lives and then share it with the world. Love simply cannot be canceled.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Perhaps that’s the true miracle of Christmas in 2020. Not that everything is perfect — we don’t live in a Hallmark Christmas movie where there is <i>always</i> a predictable and happy ending — but that God sees our struggles and enters into them by walking right alongside us. God takes all that is not ideal in our own lives — the loneliness, the brokenness, the fear, the heartbreak, the grief — and through relationship with us, transforms it into a loving, liberating, life-giving hope.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Wherever and however you celebrate Christmas this year, I pray it will ultimately be about love. Not the sentimental kind, but the transformative kind that triumphs over every fear. The kind that reminds you that God delights in you simply for who you are, even when you’re feeling down or imperfect or overwhelmed. Because it’s not just true that God loves you, it’s the deepest truth there is.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">So if there’s one thing to remember this Christmas, it’s that while everything is different, nothing ultimately changes. Merry Christmas, friends, and please do stay safe out there.</span></p><div><br /></div></div>Tim Schenckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913584491460599491noreply@blogger.com0