Members of the Body

My friend Robert Hendrickson, rector of St. Philip’s in the Hills in Tucson, recently put together this chart for his annual meeting. It tracks what are called ‘deaths of despair’ (ie, deaths from suicide and addiction) compared to the introduction of particular technologies. The “50% mark” indicates the point when 50 percent of households in America had Internet access. 

If we think of our nation as a body, there are certainly parts of that body that are ill indeed. The social fragmentation that can come with certain technologies seems to play a role, although correlation certainly isn’t proof of causation. But something has caused an increasing number of Americans to feel that their lives aren’t worth living, or that they need to escape from their pain through self-medication. 

The Church is a body, too, and we are not immune to the struggles of society as a whole. But there are no parts of the body that are superfluous, or un-needed, or unworthy of love. In our Epistle reading for this Sunday, St. Paul writes, “there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’ On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable.” We need everyone in order to be who we are, the Body of Christ in Trinity Church. 

Being a member of the body of Christ means being conjoined with one another in the same way that one limb is joined to another. When we’re members of the same body, we find that we can’t dis-member ourselves by cutting parts of ourselves off.  But neither can we participate in a crushing uniformity, without the joys of difference within that unity. Unity is not sameness. 

Without the body, without our other limbs, without each other, we find ourselves cut off from who we truly are. Without the body, we can’t live out our own calling. To be who we are called to be, we need each one of you to live out your calling, too. We are all connected. This year, as we walk together as followers of Jesus, I invite you to discern what your role in this body is. I invite you to participate in that body ever more deeply, whether that’s helping the liturgy, participating in a fellowship group, or joining us for the Daily Office. We need each one of you, and we’re not complete without you. 

Yours in Christ, and Christ alone,

Kara+

P.S. Join me on February 9th and February 16th for a special forum series on technology, including artificial intelligence, and its implications for Christian life. 

IN GRATITUDE: REMEMBER, REFLECT, AND RENEW

Journeying Through the Seasons of Life with Christ and One Another

Sustain us, O Lord, in your Holy Spirit.
Give us inquiring and discerning hearts,

 the courage to will and to persevere,

 a spirit to know and to love you,

and the gift of joy and wonder in all your works.

Amen.

Dear Good People of Trinity,

The final chapter of our sabbatical journey has now come to a close. On New Year’s Eve, the Jeanes family departed from JFK and flew to Córdoba, Argentina, beginning a pilgrimage across sacred terrain of both land and heart, time and space.

In Córdoba, we walked in the footsteps of Christina’s childhood. We visited the home where she, her siblings, and her mother once lived, and the school she attended. Together, we walked the streets they walked and experienced places that shaped their lives 45 years ago.

From there, we traveled to La Paz, where Christina’s brother has a small “ranchito.” For four wonderful days, we embraced the beauty of the countryside—taking walks, riding horses, swimming in the river, sharing stories with friends, and yes … even played a round or two of golf. A highlight was the Argentine Asado, a feast of food, laughter, and love shared with dear family and friends.

Our pilgrimage continued with a seven-hour bus ride to San Nicolás, the town where Christina’s mother, María Luisa, was born. We visited the house where she grew up, the school where she was valedictorian, and the park near the river where she played with her sisters. A truly special moment was reconnecting with Abuela’s only remaining childhood friend, Graciela, now 91. Graciela’s joy at our visit was palpable as she shared stories of their adventures—school days, dances at the social club, and even tales of youthful romance. “We met when we were four,” she said, “and we were friends for life—inseparable!”

On our last night in San Nicolás, we gathered on the banks of the Río Paraná. There we read poetry, shed tears, looked to the sky, said prayers, and then “earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust” - we returned a portion of Abuela’s and Tia’s, ashes to the river in which they swam and played, had picnic’s on the bank and walked to the water’s edge with young suiters to perhaps steal a kiss under the moonlight.

Our final destination was Buenos Aires. What an amazing city! Over three days, we walked nearly 10 miles a day, taking in the Teatro Colón, Plaza de Mayo, Recoleta Cemetery, Casa Rosada, Puerto Madero, the Metropolitan Cathedral, and so much more. Though our feet were a bit sore, our spirits were filled!

Yet, as with all journeys, this one came to an end. It was time to return home.

One of the most poignant moments was watching my children show Graciela pictures of her and Abuela as children. Her joy and tears captured the essence of life’s fleeting beauty: the laughter, love, and dreams of youth intimately intertwined with the wisdom and memories of age.

I wonder if when she looked at those pictures if it seemed as if it were yesterday. Only yesterday, when she and Abuela were 12 years old and going to their first dance at the San Nicolas Social Club. Wearing their best dresses and their hair done, young and full of life and dreams - looking across the room at handsome young boys and wondering if one of them would ask them to dance. And then the time came, a boy caught their eye and walked across the room, and asked for a dance. Their first dance and their hearts racing, now in the blink of an eye, 80 years have passed.  Yet, I felt that within her heart and soul, I could see a young girl still full of life and dreams and wanting to dance.

Life moves so quickly, dear friends. Each day, the music of life plays, and God invites us to dance. To live and love, to hope and dream, as long as we have breath. Even when life is hard and our hearts grow weary, God is with us—through every moment, from our first breath to our last.

Let us not miss the wonder of this sacred dance.

Thank you for the gift of this time away. Thank you for loving me and my family. Thank you for giving us this holy opportunity to dance!

Peace and Blessings,

Paul

Baptism

Each year, on the Sunday after the Epiphany, we celebrate the Baptism of our Lord. This year, we will have much to celebrate as we welcome two young Christians into the household of God. It will be a joyous morning, and I hope you will come! 

But what is baptism for? What does it do? The Catechism in the back of the Prayer Book tells us that “Holy Baptism is the sacrament by which God adopts us as his children and makes us members of Christ's Body, the Church, and inheritors of the kingdom of God.” (BCP p. 858) Like all sacraments, it is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. The outward and visible sign in Baptism, of course, is the water in which we are baptized in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The inward and spiritual grace is “union with Christ in his death and resurrection, birth into God's family the Church, forgiveness of sins, and new life in the Holy Spirit.” (BCP p. 858) 

Baptism is about inclusion in the household of God, to be sure. It’s about God accepting us and about our accepting Christ as our Lord and Savior. But there are also things to be rejected: the powers of death, the forces that draw us from the love of God, all those things that corrupt the creatures of God. In baptism, we say no to death and yes to life, passing by God’s grace through death to life in Jesus’ cross and resurrection. This no and yes is the ground of our Christian lives. 

The 20th century Episcopal lay theologian William Stringfellow wrote that “the vocation of the baptized person is a simple thing: it is to live from day to day, whatever the day brings, in this extraordinary unity, in this reconciliation with all people and all things, in this knowledge that death has no more power, in this truth of the resurrection….What matters is that whatever one does is done in honor of one’s own life, given to one by God and restored to one in Christ, and in honor of the life into which all humans and all things are called. The only thing that really matters to live in Christ instead of death.” (Instead of Death, p. 112) In the end, this radical re-orientation from death to life is what this Sunday is about. It’s also what every Sunday, and every day of our lives as Christians, is about. Won’t you join me in this holy adventure? 

Yours in Christ, and Christ alone,

Kara+

Epiphany

It has been a glorious Christmastide for me, and I hope it’s been wonderful for you as well. We have been blessed with beautiful worship services through Advent, on Christmas Eve, and at Lessons and Carols. I am tremendously grateful to our music program and to all the volunteers throughout all our ministry areas who put in long hours to help us worship the newborn King. THANK YOU for all you do. 

We’re almost ready to turn from feasting to what’s next. But at Epiphany we stand in awe before “the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things” (Ephesians 3:9) Epiphany is a day of encounter, when we recall three visitors from far away, coming to a place they had never been, not entirely sure what would happen next. The wise men knew that they were being led to something important, to the child born king of the Jews. But until they met Jesus, they wouldn’t truly understand what any of this really meant. Until they met Jesus, they had no idea of how their lives were about to change.

We are called to look for the newborn Jesus, to look for the light to the gentiles, to look for God’s incarnate grace, in the circumstances of our own lives. We’re called to look for him at work, at the grocery store, at home with our families and friends, in fellowship shared, and in our church. These are the places where God presents himself to us, the places where God's truth is revealed. These are all places where we may bring our gifts to the King and cast them before his throne. These are the places where we bring our gifts to the giver.

And what happens when we do just that? What happens when we meet Jesus? Scripture tells us that the wise men were warned not to return to Herod, and so they went home by another road. Once you meet Jesus, there's no going back. The old certainties, everything we thought most reliable, we find them vanishing like smoke. All we thought was the solid world melts into air. But what replaces it is built on solid rock. What replaces it is the path of love, of life, and of light.

We truly have had a wonderful season of Christmas here at Trinity Church. Having met the Christ child, we stand at a fork in the road. Will we try to go back the way we came? Or will we live as people who have seen the one who is the Way the Truth, and the Life face to face?

Yours in Christ, and in Christ alone,

Kara 

Christmas Day

Dear Friends,

On Christmas morning, after a glorious day of worship at Trinity Church, I woke up around 6 AM. I went downstairs, got a cup of coffee, and sat by the tree for a while. I cherish these early hours, when the house is quiet, and everyone else is still asleep. These moments are sacred.

As I sat there, I found myself drifting back to Christmases of my childhood. I would jump out of bed at the crack of dawn and run into my parents’ room with my heart about to bust – “Get up! Get up! Santa came! Santa came!” Then we would make our way to the family room to see that indeed Santa had made a visit! What joy! So many beautiful memories.

Then, I reflected on the Christmases here in Princeton, I see our kids faces and feel their boundless energy as they ran around the house, bursting with excitement. The cookies were gone, the milk was drunk, and the presents were under the tree. Christina and I would watch with tired smiles, the result of late-night wrapping sessions. Our weariness was a small price to pay for the happiness and joy of the children.

But time moves on, and our children are now 26, 24, and 21. They no longer wake us at 6 AM, racing downstairs and shouting, "Did Santa come?" Christmas morning has taken on a different rhythm. Now, the day begins at a more leisurely hour—around 9 or 9:30. We gather quietly, chatting until everyone is awake. With the fire lit, Christmas music playing softly, we open our gifts in an “orderly” manner.

Yet, even now, the magic of Christmas morning remains. There is still laughter, jokes, and playful tossing of wrapping paper. Ribbons end up in hair, new clothes are modeled with flair, and the occasional gift sends the room into fits of laughter.

There is something profoundly beautiful about this experience—unwrapping gifts chosen with love and care. The “fanciness” of the gift doesn’t matter. (I often forget that in my desire to get the “perfect” gift – which only causes frustration.) What truly matters is the love and intention behind it.

As I sat by the tree, I thought: What if we approached each day with the same excitement and joy we feel on Christmas morning? Each morning, God grants us the gift of a new day. Like a wrapped present, the day holds possibilities waiting to be discovered.

I confess, most mornings I don’t leap out of bed with joy, eager to greet the sunrise. I don’t wake up proclaiming, “This is the day the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it.” But what if I did? What if I chose to embrace each day as a precious and intentional gift from God?

Every morning, we are given the gift of life—a new day to unwrap, experience, and savor. Each breath we take is a reminder of the potential for joy, love, and new experiences. Each day is a little like Christmas—not because of the date on the calendar, but because God has given us the gift of this moment, this life, this breath.

Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Merry Christmas,

Fourth Sunday of Advent

Dear Beloved of Trinity,

The day is fast approaching, and soon we will celebrate the Nativity of our Lord Jesus Christ. Tomorrow, we will be blessed to hear the story of our Lord’s birth as shared through the voices of the children and youth of our parish.

“Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you… Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:28–33)

Come and experience once more the profound story of the birth of our Savior. Let us open our hearts to hear the story as if for the very first time. Let us hear the words of Gabriel and know that God is indeed with us. Let us set our fears aside and open our souls and lives to give birth to the Son of God.

May the presence of God be ever near and may you feel irresistibly drawn to the Holy One through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Together, let us bring forth Light and Life into the world.

We look forward to seeing you tomorrow for the Christmas Pageant and our festive Advent Brunch!

Blessings to all!

Paul

Rejoice in the LORD Always

Dear Beloved of Trinity Church,

This Sunday, we celebrate the third Sunday of Advent.  “The term is derived from the Latin opening words of the introit antiphon, ‘Rejoice (Gaudete) in the Lord always.’” * On this day, it is customary to wear rose-colored vestments and light a pink or rose colored candle, hence the alternative name for the day, “Rose Sunday.”

 From Philippians 4:4-6:

“Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice:

let your moderation be known unto all men:

the Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing:

but in everything, by prayer and supplication,

with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God.”

This is followed by the first verse from Psalm 85:

“Lord, thou art become gracious unto thy land:

thou hast turned away the captivity of Jacob.”

The Latin text:

Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, gaudete.

Modestia vestra nota sit omnibus hominibus:

Dominus enim prope est. Nihil solliciti sitis:

sed in omni oratione et obsecratione

cum gratiarum actione petitiones vestræ innotescant apud Deum. 

Benedixisti Domine terram tuam: avertisti captivitatem Jacob.

As we come ever closer to the celebration of the Nativity and our Lord’s return, may we rejoice in heart and soul, in word and deed, for Christ was and is and ever shall be our hope, our peace, our joy, our love, our light.

Advent Blessings,

Paul

* “An Episcopal Dictionary of the Church, A User Friendly Reference for Episcopalians,”

     Don S. Armentrout and Robert Boak Slocum, editors.

All Glory, Laud, and Honor

Did you notice the out-of-season hymn on Sunday? It was “All Glory, Laud and Honor,” one that we generally associate with Palm Sunday. It’s even prescribed by the rubrics of the Prayer Book for that day - one of only a few instances where the Prayer Book recommends a particular hymn. As Meg noted in her article last week, Bach’s church in Leipzig included Palm Sunday music in its Advent observances. Doing so marks the parallels between the coming of Christ into Jerusalem before he was crucified, the coming of Christ in his birth that we observe at Christmas, and the coming of Christ that we expect at the end of days. It also reminds us that Christ comes to us every time we receive the Eucharist. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,” we sing at the Sanctus during the Eucharistic Prayer, and in so doing we echo the song at Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. 

Advent is a season when we try to think of past, present, and future at once - which is really hard for humans to do! But this is how God’s time works. One of my favorite illustrations of God’s time is in the TV comedy The Good Place, where Ted Danson’s character explains eternity as “Jeremy Bearimy.” He says, “Things in the afterlife don’t happen while things are happening here, because while time on Earth moves in a straight line — one thing happens, then the next, then the next — time in the afterlife moves in a ‘Jeremy Bearimy’.”

A “Jeremy Bearimy” loops and doubles back on itself, and the dot above the “i” is a pretty good representation of how Augustine describes eternity, where all time is present to God. 

This is where we live, especially in this season of Advent where past, present, future, and eternity loop around, double back on themselves, and where God beckons us onward in expectation of Christ’s coming. 

Come, Lord Jesus!

Kara+

P.S. I’m writing this from London, where I just saw part of a Roman wall that was built about 80 years after Jesus was raised from the dead. I also got to touch John Wesley’s pulpit at the church he founded. It reminded me in a very tangible way of the beautiful story we are caught up in, the story of God’s action for us in Jesus Christ.