As parents of young adult children, we reminisce about stories we read to the kids in their toddlerhood, like Santa Mouse and Jan Brett s Christmas Treasury. We still use many of the same holiday-themed cocoa mugs, and I devoutly unpack the Christmas dishes like the treasured heirlooms they are (though their value is solely sentimental). The Advent calendar I bought on clearance years ago is filled with chocolates yet again, the magnetic doors struggling to hold shut. Christmas decorations from our 20-plus years as a family are spread throughout the house, the twinkle lights ready to be strung and a space waiting for a tree.
"Every church says that they re friendly and welcoming, with the best hospitality," the speaker said, "but they re liars." There was a round of laughter. The cleric was speaking to a room full of Episcopal seminarians, priests and professors over a "Lunch and Learn" about Latinx ministry. Why are we laughing? I wondered with an uneasy smile on my face. Because his delivery was humorous? Or maybe the truth was so bold that we didn t know how to react, and laughter was the most socially acceptable thing we could express.
On July 1, the Episcopal Church calendar commemorates Pauli Murray, a rock star in my book of saints. Murray was a civil rights activist, women s rights activist, lawyer, author, and priest the first Black woman Episcopal priest and among the first group of women ordained in the Episcopal Church. Murray knew something of what it meant to keep moving forward toward a vision that was not yet realized. Having something of a divine imagination must have fueled Murray. I look forward to reading more about this saint and watching the documentary "My Name is Pauli Murray," available on Amazon Prime.
On Sunday, Nov. 14, we took advantage of a sunny afternoon following our church service to plant bulbs along the foundation below our mural facing Peach Orchard. Wearing masks as we clustered together, taking up well-used trowels from the gardeners among us, and getting a little dirt under our nails were part of the experience. Our intent for the activity, though, was to counter a slump we were all feeling in the midst of pandemic life. By planting bulbs, we had something to look forward to come springtime. We were planting a little hope, a tangible reminder that we are a people who believe in resurrection, life and love.
On Sunday, Nov. 14, we took advantage of a sunny afternoon following our church service to plant bulbs along the foundation below our mural facing Peach Orchard. Wearing masks as we clustered together, taking up well-used trowels from the gardeners among us, and getting a little dirt under our nails were part of the experience. Our intent for the activity, though, was to counter a slump we were all feeling in the midst of pandemic life. By planting bulbs, we had something to look forward to come springtime. We were planting a little hope, a tangible reminder that we are a people who believe in resurrection, life and love.