The Too-short Season

I have an Advent calendar that gives you a little pot of jam for every day. I had the same one last year, and it’s really one of the better options out there. (It came from Bonne Maman in case you’re still looking for one. They have not paid me for this advertisement…) I confess that while I love it, and I always enjoy getting an unexpected flavor like lavender-pear-yuzu-whatever, by the last week in Advent I am tired of eating toast and jam for breakfast. It gets old.

But for me, the season of Advent never gets old. In fact, it always feels like it’s too short - especially since Christmas encroaches upon it by the time we get to the fourth week. I would like to linger in it a little while longer. So, even though this week we anticipate Christ the King, and Advent won’t begin for another eight days, I’m already ready. Advent is a season of quiet, a season of deepening winter and fading daylight. It’s a season of unadorned holly and pine, wrapped around the wreath. It’s a time of lighting candles and longing for what has not yet happened, but which has also already happened. It’s a time when we experience the thrill of saying “Aslan is on the move,” as we read in C.S. Lewis’ classic Chronicles of Narnia.

Advent is the Janus-faced season, in which we look back so that we can look forward. We look forward to the final coming of the Kingdom of God, we look forward to that day when Jesus will come again to judge the quick and the dead, to make right all that is not right. It’s a time when we look around, and look within ourselves, and say “Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Come quickly and fix all this.”

But who is the one who comes? This Sunday, the day of Christ the King, tells us who. He is the king of glory, but he is also the Prince of peace. He is the one precisely because he is the other. His reign is one of mercy. He has come as a powerless infant, he has been crucified as the one who refuses violence, he will come again as the one in whom love, justice, and mercy are one and the same.Will you wait with me? I invite you to spend this season in prayer and anticipation, and hopefully in quiet as you can find it, so that every heart may prepare him room.

Aslan is on the move.

Yours in anticipation of the coming of the King,

The Rev. Cn. Dr. Kara Slade, Associate Rector

The Rector’s Report

Dear Beloved of Trinity Church,

This annual meeting marks my fifteenth as your rector. It has indeed been joy and blessing to have journeyed with you these past years.  As I have stated several times over the past year, I am so incredibly proud of you, the people of Trinity Church. You stood fast in the midst of Covid realities, cultural division, societal distrust, and our own painful time of investigation and truth telling.

These past years could have easily strained, if not broken, the bonds of affection that we have for each other and could have most certainly tested the resolve of our faith. Yet you remained constant and true to one another, Trinity Church, and our belief in the restorative love of Jesus Christ. This brought to heart and mind the beautiful salutation in the Letter to the Philippians. I offer a slightly modified and personalized version.

To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Trinity Church

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I thank our God for every remembrance of you, always in every one of my prayers for all of you, praying with joy for our partnership in the gospel from the first day until now.  I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in us will continue to complete it until the day of Jesus Christ. And this is my prayer, that our love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help us to determine what really matters, so that in the day of Christ we may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.

May 11, 2023 will mark the 190th year of Trinity Church. God has been faithful to us, and I give thanks for all those who over the generations have been the beloved people of Trinity Church. Last Sunday, on All Saints’ and Stewardship Celebration Sunday, Kara shared in her sermon a
wonderful quote:

Too many people spend their lives being dutiful descendants instead of good ancestors. The responsibility of each generation is not to please their predecessors. It’s to improve things for their offspring. It’s more important to make your children proud than your parents proud. (Adam Grant)

Let us give thanks for the great cloud of witnesses who came before us, and yet be ever vigilant and aware of our sacred responsibility to make things better for whose who come after us. We do this by dedicating ourselves to be a community of compassion and love, so that “our love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help us to determine what really matters, so that in the day of Christ we may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness.”

Forward in faith we go, dear saints in Christ, the beloved of Trinity Church.

Peace & Blessings,

The Rev. Paul Jeanes III, Rector

O Blest Communion, Fellowship Divine

Mozart’s Requiem is one of the most well-known pieces of choral music, it’s powerful and beautiful, and it was also left largely unfinished at Mozart’s death in 1791. He had written the Introit-Kyrie, and vocal parts for many of the other movements, but not much else, save for some clues about the instrumental figures. The Requiem was quickly completed by a colleague of Mozart’s, and there have been several other “completions” over the years. 

In coming up with this service for All Saints’ Day, I wanted to find a way to avoid performing the second half of Mozart’s Requiem (some of the initial completion is quite boring!), which meant we would be unable to sing the piece liturgically in the mass. So, I began looking for other works that would fit in the service, and I discovered Mozart’s Missa Brevis in D minor, written when he was only 12 years old — and already his third mass. While it’s in the same minor key as the Requiem, it’s a spritely and joyful piece, full of cute little vocal flourishes that “paint the text” of the mass. The Credo movement, in particular, is packed with musical representations of the Creed that we say every week, and they fly by. Listen also for the “Hosanna” which comes after both the Sanctus and Benedictus. It’s about 15 seconds long, tidy, lively, and perfect for a Missa Brevis, meaning “brief mass.”

This year, I’m hoping that the service for All Saints’ will be an opportunity for our parish to celebrate life, and the lives that have gone before us. It’s a time to hear the choir sing something old, something new, but also to come together as a community and live out this verse of For All the Saints, the hymn that will close our service:

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia, alleluia!

I hope you will all attend the service for All Saints’ Day at 5pm on November 6, featuring the choirs of Trinity Church, with orchestra, performing Mozart’s Requiem and Missa Brevis in D minor. 

Connor Fluharty,
Interim Director of Music

Youth Group at Farminary

The weather was picturesque on Sunday afternoon, October 16. It was one of those glorious fall days when everything sparkles in the slanting golden light. That was the day Trinity’s Youth Group took a field trip to the Farminary. What is the Farminary, you ask? Well, it’s the name of Princeton Theological Seminary’s farm, where students can combine theological learning and reflection with a sense of place and ecological education. 

The best way to get a full sense of the Farminairy is to visit their website.

When the fourteen of us arrived, Brendan and Jack, our hosts for the afternoon, met us by the barn. They are both PTS students who work at the Farminary. After a round of introductions, Jack invited us to look around  and notice —notice the sounds, the smells, the light, the breeze, the pond surrounded by cattails, birds circling overhead, colorful flowers, green grass — and the quiet. In moments we changed from feeling a bit awkward in this unfamiliar place to feeling curious about what was just beyond the wild apple tree we were sitting under.

Brendan led us to the garden. On the way, we passed by a long mound of compost, made of woodchips, food scraps, and leaves. He dug down into it so we could see and feel  how the decomposition of this organic heap got steaming hot. We could smell its aroma of really good, rich dirt.

Venturing into the garden, we snacked on emerald green arugula fresh from a bed of four week old greens,  plucked velvety green beans off vines climbing up poles, chomped on radishes and turnips freshly pulled out of the dirt, and delighted in the sweetness of purple and gold kumquat tomatoes, and the bitterness of red chard. The abundance of crops and the plenty of nature made us wonder why anyone goes hungry in the United States. 

If only we would provide, share, and distribute fairly. Our young people recognize this is a problem they will one day have the power to solve.

We made our way  through the trees into an open field, home to the chicken coop. 

Fun fact: If you ever go to Jammin’ Crepes on Nassau Street, you might have Farminary eggs in your crepe! Brendan introduced us to the flock, as he expertly caught and picked up a chicken. The trick, he said, is to walk up behind the bird and hold its wings to its sides as you lift. Suddenly twelve teenagers stepped over the fence, into the chicken coop enclosure,  to give it a try!  The chickens had mixed feelings about our enthusiasm.

Before we knew it, almost two hours had passed! 

We walked back to the circle of chairs where we had started. As we snacked on apples, we talked about the creation story in Genesis. The idea that humans were made by God out of dirt inspired our thoughts differently after exploring the farm.

Back under the wild apple tree we wondered about the full quadrant of the garden that was growing what looked like only weeds. Jack explained it was actually cover crop—that part of the garden was already resting for the winter. Even the soil needs rest in winter, and rest from growing certain kinds of crops, to avoid depletion. We reflected for a moment on the sacred need for rest, that God rested on the seventh day, and that we must all rest or we cannot grow.

What stands out for all of us in the Youth Group, when we think back on that lovely October Sunday, was how restful and calm the afternoon had been. Our hosts graciously shared their love of the farm, their joy of growing things, and their stewardship of Creation  as a reflection of their devotion to God. With an easy pace and contemplative approach we soaked in what the Farminary had to teach us about God and ourselves as creatures, as individuals, and as a group.

We want to go back and visit again. We’ll let you know — we’d love you to join us!

The Rev. Joanne Epply-Schmidti,
Associate Rector

Emily Pruszinski,
Director of Family Ministries

& Trinity Youth Group

Dear Beloved of Trinity

Earlier this week, Thalia and I shared with you, the parishioners of Trinity Church, the summation of the investigation into Tom Whittemore’s charges of sexual abuse from a different parish thirty years ago. This statement was written by the Rt. Rev. Daniel Gutiérrez, Bishop of the Diocese of Pennsylvania.

None of us are ever truly prepared for such a situation. Being followers of Jesus Christ and members of God’s church neither insulates nor protects us from the realities of our broken and sinful world, and when such actions damage the community, we do our best to act with honesty, courage, grace, and faith.

Our time of healing is only just beginning. There are prayers to be offered, conversations to be shared, questions to be explored, and policies and procedures to be revised and implemented. This reality has affected each of us in different ways and will shape our community as we go forward.

I want to take this opportunity to offer my sincere thanks to Thalia Mingo, our Senior Warden, Phil Unetic, our Junior Warden, our outstanding Vestry, our devoted clergy and lay staff; Joanne, Kara, Connor, Emily, Annie, Lily, Adam, Roberto, and Enrique for their dedication to Trinity, their commitment to the difficult work that is before us, and for their faithfulness to Christ and the mission of God’s Church. We are blessed to have such a team.

Finally, I want to thank you, the good people of Trinity Church, for your prayers, trust, and support. We have faced a great deal over the past three years, but I genuinely believe that as difficult as this season has been, God has been at work in our midst, and we are now standing on the threshold of a new season of life and vitality. We find our way forward as a cherished community of love and compassion proclaiming God’s word of healing and life to all.

The leadership team and I always welcome your comments, insights, questions, and concerns in order to promote understanding and clarity as we live into God’s future for our beloved community.

The Rev. Paul Jeanes III, Rector

One Unpopular Church Service that Changed the World

JANET GEDDES IN ST GILES’ CHURCH, EDINBURGH

Let me tell you a story. The year was 1637. On Sunday, July 23, at St. Giles’ Cathedral in Edinburgh, a service began that used a new liturgy for the first time. “The Booke of Common Prayer and Administration Of The Sacraments: And other parts of divine Service for the use of the Church of Scotland” had been compiled at the instruction of King Charles I for use in Scotland. Its imposition by the crown was not, shall we say, universally popular. At that first service, a woman named Jenny Geddes allegedly threw a stool at James Hannay, the Dean of Edinburgh, as he began to pray the collects. She was said to have exclaimed "De’il gie you colic, the wame o’ ye, fause thief; daur ye say Mass in my lug?" meaning “Devil cause you colic in your stomach, false thief: dare you say the Mass in my ear?”

This act started a cascade of events that would shake kingdoms. The congregation began hurling Bibles and furniture, and shouting abuse at the Dean as well. Rioting broke out in the streets and spread to other cities. Charles I refused to compromise on the use of Anglican liturgy, and in 1638 his opponents in Scotland signed a document called the National Covenant to oppose both the Prayer Book and the role of bishops in church governance. Then, in 1639, the King sent troops to suppress the rebellion started by the Covenanters’ movement. The “Bishops’ War” that followed would lead in time to both the Irish Rebellion and the English Civil War, and finally to the execution of the King.

When Cromwell and the Puritan Parliament took over, they attempted to suppress Prayer Book worship, not always with success. Some priests memorized parts of the 1559 Prayer Book and recited them under the guise of extemporaneous prayer. Others used the Prayer Book privately for occasions like family baptisms.

Then, in 1660, King Charles II was restored to the throne. A new Prayer Book was commissioned, a mild revision of the 1559 book that was intended to steer a peace-preserving ‘middle way’ in its flexibility: “It hath been the wisdom of the Church of England, ever since the first compiling of her public Liturgy to keep the mean between two extremes, of too much stiffness in refusing, and of too much easiness in admitting any variation from it,” the Preface states. The 1662 Prayer Book became the standard liturgy not only in the Church of England, but in many other parts of the world where English missionaries traveled. It remains the authorized Prayer Book of the Church of England, although there is a supplemental 20th century book called Common Worship that provides rites equivalent to our Rite II liturgy.

On Sunday, October 30, at 5pm, we will remember this heritage of prayer and worship with a 1662 Book of Common Prayer service. We are fortunate to have Drew Keane, an expert in the 1662 liturgy, consulting with us to help us structure the service as it would have been done in the late 1600s. We aren’t doing this as merely a historical curiosity, but rather as a way to discover how the “habits of the heart” practiced by Anglicans more than 300 years ago are so close to our own — and why they have lasted.

Won’t you join us?

Yours in Christ,

The Rev. Cn. Dr. Kara N. Slade, Associate Rector

Life-giving Waters

[Transcript]

Dear beloved of Trinity Church,

Greetings, I come to you from Colorado this evening. I’m here this week and weekend. I’ve been invited by one of our members to come and officiate their wedding. What a blessing it is. I’ve never been to Colorado. I’ve never seen the Colorado Rockies. I’ve never seen nature quite like this, mountains quite so high, streams so pure and lovely. What an amazing gift. When you come here, you simply have no doubt of the majesty, the beauty, the enormity of God. What an amazing sight and how wonderful to experience it.

Tonight, we’re at the rehearsal and I’m standing next to a stream which happens to be by the property where we're gathering tonight and I looked at that stream and I thought of Matthew 7:38. It speaks to the fact that we, as follows of Jesus Christ, the streams of life-giving water flow within us. The waters of God’s love — baptismal waters — flow in us and flow through us, that we might bring life and living water to all those in need, all those who are hurting, all those who are hungry, all those who are lonely.

What a gift it is to stand here this evening. And I bring you this message of living water, of life and hope. May you know and feel the living water of Christ in you. And may you open yourself to allow it to flow through you, to bring life to those with whom you walk this journey.

Peace and blessings to all of you, dear friends, and we’ll see you next week. Take care. God bless.

Is Anyone Up There?

There is this story — you probably know it — of a man who falls over the edge of a cliff and grabs on to a branch for dear life to keep from falling to the bottom of the ravine. In desperation he cries out for help, “Is anyone up there?” But no one answers. His desperation increasing, he calls out to God: “Oh God, are you up there? Send someone to save me!” And a voice from heaven says, “Let go of the branch.” The man hangs there over the ravine in fear and in silence, looking up to the edge of the cliff just out of reach and down to he yawning abyss below him. At last he takes a deep breath, looks up... and yells, “Is there anyone else up there?!”

We smile, we chuckle, with a knowing shake of the head because we have just heard an apt description of how often our own absolute trust in God actually hangs in midair.

True, there are some remarkable souls with great trust borne of mature faith in God. But for most of us mere mortals, our trust is limited — limited by our understanding of what trust in the Lord really is, what trust in the Lord is meant to accomplish.

When Jesus hung on the cross, taunting words were hurled at Him. “He trusted in God. Let God deliver him!” That caustic cynicism exposes a belief that a trustworthy God would keep God’s belovèd from all harm or failure.

Is that our definition?

Our Lord trusted that God would be present fully in times of joy, times of shattering suffering, and ultimately in the time on the other side of suffering as well. Such trust led our Lord to live a fearlessly full life as something held in hands other than His own. Do we likewise trust in the hands that will bear us all up through the best and through the most trying of times? Hands that will never let us down, but will gently set us down in place of peace and beauty at the last?

My go-to psalm in a myriad of circumstances in Psalm 131:

“O Lord, I am not proud;
I have no haughty looks.
I do not occupy myself with great matters,
or with things that are too hard for me.
But I still my soul and make it quiet,
like a child upon its mothers breast;
my soul is quieted within me.
O Israel, wait upon the Lord,
from this time forth for evermore.”

The Psalm quells the question, “Is there anyone else up there?” The Psalm in poetry says, “Let go of the branch.” These sacred verses are given to us so that we might live fully and fearlessly and abundantly. I commend them to you in trust that they will serve you well.

Yours in Christ,

The Rev. Joanne Epply-Schmidt, Associate Rector