This Terrible Joy

Jay DeFeo, The Annunciation, 1957/59.

Why do you leave the ordinary world, Virgin of Nazareth… / Why do you fly those markets, those suburban gardens, / You have trusted no town with the news behind your eyes. / You have drowned Gabriel's word in thoughts like seas / And turned toward the stone mountain…to the treeless places.

— Thomas Merton

On the fourth Sunday of Advent this year, the Lectionary tells us the story of Jesus’ birth from Matthew’s gospel: “When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” While Luke gives us our familiar nativity scenes of manger and shepherds and friendly animals, Matthew confronts us with the reality of a what a surprise pregnancy meant in Jesus’ time and place: shame, ostracism, and as our reading says, “disgrace.” But what Matthew’s and Luke’s accounts share is that the angel of the Lord appears to announce God’s plan for the world, a plan that is set into motion because Mary said “yes.”

At this point in Advent, as we look towards Christmas, we are in the time of Mary, the time of the Magnificat. In Luke’s gospel, we rejoice as we hear Mary’s joy, in what C.S. Lewis famously called “a terrible song,” meaning a “dreadful, frightful, and fearsome” song.  The Magnificat shakes the foundations of all we know, or all we think we know, as Mary reveals that the cosmic events she’s gotten caught up in are nothing less than the pivot of the ages. God visits Mary and Joseph with news so stunning it would take the rest of their lives to understand it all. The reversal of wrenching circumstances, the lifting up of the lowly, the exaltation of the humble that Mary sings about shows us that this is how God works.

Christmas is a time to rejoice in the glory of the Lord, but it’s also a time to be confronted by the very human reality of the story of Jesus’ birth. Neither Mary, nor Joseph, nor Jesus, are two-dimensional figures acting out a sentimental tale. They are real people, caught up in the most real situation possible – the situation of God’s action towards us in the Word made flesh. It is a time of awe. It is a time of joy.

May the blessing of our newborn Savior
be with each of you this season,

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

All I Want for Christmas

Allan Rohan Crite (1910-2007)

I love Christmas music. I’m one of those people who could listen to it all year long. Deck the Halls, Silent Night, O Come All Ye Faithful, Joy to the World, I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas, and of course, everyone’s favorite … All I Want for Christmas (Is My Two Front Teeth).

Well, maybe that’s not your favorite, but I have been thinking about the song because, frustratingly, I can’t get it out of my head. As a result, I’ve been pondering over and over that since I have my two front teeth … What do I really want for Christmas? To ask for more “things” seems ridiculous. I already have all that I need and, in fact, more than I need.

Amid this pondering, I came across a beautiful Advent poem by Saint John of the Cross, whose feast day is December 14.

If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the road
pregnant with the Holy and say,
“I need shelter for the night.
Please take me inside your heart, my time is so close.”
Then, under the roof of your soul,
you will witness the sublime intimacy,
the divine, the Christ, taking birth forever,
as she grasps your hand for help,
for each of us is the midwife of God, each of us.
Yes, there, under the dome of your being,
does creation come into existence eternally,
through your womb, dear pilgrim,
the sacred womb of your soul,
as God grasps our arms for help:
for each of us is His beloved servant never far.
If you want, the Virgin will come walking down the street,
pregnant with Light, and sing!

— Advent Poem, St. John of the Cross

In these holy days, if you want … the Virgin comes, the Holy comes, God comes, Light comes, Love comes and says, “Please take me inside your heart, my time is so close.”

What do I really want for Christmas? I want a heart that is open and ready to receive the Holy One and within my soul “to witness sublime intimacy, the divine, the Christ, taking birth forever, as she grasps [my] hand for help, for each of us is the midwife of God, each of us.”

That’s what I say that I want, but when the Virgin comes “walking down the road pregnant with the Holy and [says], ‘I need shelter for the night. Please take me inside your heart, my time is so close.’” Will I say — Yes? I pray I say — Yes!

Advent Blessings,

The Rev. Paul Jeanes III,
Rector

Expectancy

In the expansive realm of religious belief, there are so many Biblical stories into which we can delve, about which we can debate, stories we can research and refute. Passages of Scripture one can exaggerate, de- mythologize, or critique historically, literally, structurally, or theologically. Verses which inspire one to moralize, spiritualize, or from which to extrapolate great apothegms.

And then there is this beautiful narrative we are preparing ourselves to tell — One special child’s birth. A marvel. A puzzlement. A story of breathtaking proportions that no amount of the usual rhetoric can undo: The child is born, the angels sing, and every day people gaze on the newborn face of God. The prophecies of Isaiah are fulfilled. The promises of archangel Gabriel have come true. The Messiah, the Christ has been delivered into the world by a young woman in an unassuming spot.

What a curious way for the Almighty God to behave. What a modest means to move the world towards redemption. God in flesh appearing as a helpless baby boy bundled up on a bale of hay. Not much of an entrance for a Savior, is it?

So I have to wonder, Why do we need these days of Advent to abide in anticipation of this story we long to tell? What is it about these days of waiting that have the power to shatter and rebuild our whole world of faith? What is it that the coming of a newborn baby Jesus can do that God Almighty can’t?

Perhaps we need time to anticipate His birth because it promises us a new life. Jesus will redefine humanity by living within it from his very beginning. Perhaps we need time to accept that the Holy One promised to us will be born of a woman in absolute humility. Might this impress upon us the vulnerability of holiness, and the sweetness of God?

There was a time when Jesus was entirely dependent on human beings to come into this world, survive in this world, and that time has not come to an end yet.

As Mary carries the child, it is we who are expecting. Expecting the disruption and radical rearrangement that the birth of any child brings — reassessment of our priorities, of our beliefs about what is important, our beliefs about who is important. Expecting to love, really love, — painfully, poignantly, powerfully love — the sacred nature of all humanity with a delight and joy unlike any other. Expecting reason to hope for ourselves, and all that we cherish. This Advent may our hearts abide in Hope and may our Spirits stand transfixed, expecting. Expecting to recognize that our attention to all that which is Holy is most urgent.

The Rev. Joanne Epply-Schmidt, Associate Rector

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