Category: Church

Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me….

9/29/2019

I was lay leader at church today. Here is what I shared. (I sang the first line.)

Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me….

We gather here today knowing and believing that peace on earth begins we each of us and that it is strengthened when we come together as a community.

As the psalmist tell us,

Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet;
righteousness and peace will kiss each other.
Faithfulness will spring up from the ground,
and righteousness will look down from the sky.
(Psalm 85:10-11)

Increase our faith O God, open our hearts to love so that righteousness will spring up from us and peace will look down on us all.

Today, right now, let peace begin with me, let it begin with each person here, in this town, in this country, and in the world.

Praying for peace in the churches of Rome

9/15/2019

I’m in Rome to pray for peace for six days. My plan was to light a candle for peace in at least 100 of Rome’s 900 churches. However, I’ve ditched that 100-church goal. Most likely it would be impossible to reach, and it would definitely be nonsensical. I’d just be rushing in and out, snapping a picture and adding the church name to my list. I’ve decided not to light a candle, but to pray for peace in some intentional, visual, way. Contributing to peace is my goal.
     Yesterday morning I went to three churches, raising the count to ten. Sant’ Agnese fuori le Mura and Santa Costanza are in the same complex outside the walls. Outside the walls because Sant’ Agnese has as a catacomb, where early Christians were buried. Rome had a policy that no one could be buried inside the city. Then to gaze at Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Teresa in Santa Maria della Vittoria. I’m glad I had my bus pass. In the afternoon I found myself praying for me in seven more churches. As of last night the count is up to twenty.
     My intention to pray for peace in churches has me aware of all the people I pass along the streets. The sheer numbers, the multiple skin colors, body sizes, ages, languages. I am not other; I am one of them. Our uniqueness makes us one.
      And then there are the obviously loving people, most likely parents, who accompany their children with special needs. At the altar at the Church of San Giovanni in Laterano a mom was supporting her adult son who was draped on her. As he drooled, she wiped his mouth. Then they walked on, arm in arm.
     As I sit in this little park in the early morning it comes over me that regardless of what praying for peace means to each of us, when we think peace we become aware of the equanimity between all people. In wanting peace for myself, I have to want it for everyone.

Vacation Bible School

8/27/2019

Me as Rebekah.

I posted the following on my cottage-by-the-sea blog. Here are the Bible stories that we highlighted to illustrate being a good neighbor. The main scripture, was Jesus’ great commandment: Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. (The roles I played are in parenthesis.)

Day One: Love God and Your Neighbor: Mark 12:28b-29 (Person One)
Day Two: Who is My Neighbor? Luke 10:25-37 (The Samaritan)
Day Three: Live Peacefully: Genesis 26:12-23 (Rebekah)
Day Four: Everyone is Invited: Luke 14:15-24 (Jesus)
Day Five: Share with Others: Acts 2:42-47; 4:32-37 (Guest)

Every so often I have to remind myself to ‘stay out of organization.’ I came up with that phrase when I retired from teaching, and although I still stand by it, there are times when I get too involved in everyday life, and bingo, I am reminded again.
Every morning last week I helped out at the Vacation Bible School (the theme was Please won’t you be my neighbor?) at church by participating in a skit about the Bible story of the day. By Friday I knew that the daily routine had trust me into organization and depleted me from the morning solitude that centers and balances me. I’m glad I was involved, and I’m glad I was reminded to be attentive: I may step into organization from time to time, but that is not my chosen modus operandi these days, and I can always step out.

St. Elizabeth's Chapel

8/11/2019

I attended the 8 o’clock service at St. Elizabeth’s Chapel this morning. I love walking up the wooded path from the parking lot to the stone chapel, designed and built between 1912 and 1914 by Ralph Adams Cram, architect of St. John’s the Divine in New York City, for himself and this family.
A summer Sunday mornings isn’t the only time to visit the chapel, at least the external grounds. Sit on the bench outside the entrance and watch the sunlight dance of the chapel’s façade and amongst the leaves on the forest floor and trees.
www.st-elizabeths.org/history-chapel.shtml

Worshipping at Greater Framingham Community Church

7/22/2019

The church I attend has no air conditioning, so with yesterday’s 95 degree forecast, Sunday service was held on line. Instead, I chose to worship at the Greater Framingham Community Church. Gfccnet.org
. And worship I did. I’m still in awe of how praise and thanksgiving was front and center of the entire service. Praising God and thanking God through the music of a live band and singing, and through word expressed by the pastor and the ‘amens’ from the congregants. But it was more than that. Gratitude encompassed everything—it took over.
     What I’m trying to convey here is beyond words. Too many words don’t help; in fact they hinder. John 1:1 tells us, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” One word, gratitude; one word, love; one word, Jesus.
      There is much more to say about yesterday, but not now, not yet, maybe not ever. Perhaps I’ve said it all in the one word that was at the core of yesterdays service. I trust that when I go return there to worship on another Sunday I will receive the same Word. But I’ll go again, just to hear it and be refreshed (they have air conditioning).
      (I didn’t take any photos because I went as a worshipper, not as a tourist or blogger.)

Who is God at St. Cuthbert's?

6/16/2019

St. Cuthbert’s Church is located at the west end of the Princes Street Garden. To the south, towering above, is Edinburgh Castle at the end of the Royal Mile in Old Town. To the north is New Town with its Georgian homes and private gardens.
    St. Cuthbert’s represents both the old and the new Edinburgh. History has it that a church has been standing at the site since 850 CE. Today it is an active parish church of the Church of Scotland.
     I love to walk about St. Cuthbert’s graveyard, reading the headstones and wondering, “Who were these people?” Over the years new sections have been added to the graveyard, providing extra intrigue and mystery.
    Yesterday as I was wandering about, I was distracted by a few garbage bag bundles left here and there; then when I looked around a low wall, I was startled to see scattered trash on the ground. Around another corners a man was coming out of tent.
     St. Cuthbert’s has been a sanctuary throughout the centuries and now it is one for homeless people!
     In such situations we are apt to ask, “Where is God?” But Krish Kandiah, in God is Stranger: Finding God in Unexpected Places, suggests we ask, “Who is God?” And so I ponder: Who is God for these homeless people? For the administrative staff of St. Cuthbert’s? For me, a tourist wandering through? (I refrain from taking pictures of homeless people.)

Wanting a "God church"

6/9/2019

I attended the memorial service for a dear friend yesterday at the UU Church in town (the church we attended when raising our children). The service was one of the most heartfelt I have ever experience, and for that I am very grateful.
Gratitude, good memories, and sense of community, however, were not enough as I went out the door. I missed the mystery and the hope inherent in a Christian service. The absence of any God reference brought home, once again, why I had left that church to return to my roots in the UCC church that I can see from my upstairs window.
When asked, I say that I left the UU church because I wanted a “God church”. Amen.

St. James Episcopal Church in Florence

12/10/2018

     Yesterday I attended Sunday worship at St. James Episcopal Church (where I used to go when I was a student here in 1959-60). The program was printed in both English and Italian, parts of the service were conducted in Italian, and Communion was open to everyone. The congregation was composed of people of all colors, languages, and nationalities. To quote my mom, it was what Heaven is like.
     Their mission statement:
We rejoice in a diverse and international parish family, and serve Italian and English speakers from many denominations, back grounds and cultures.

     The Rev. Cannon T. Mark Dunnam, preaching (in English) on Luke 3: 1-6, drew a contrast between the powerful rulers of the day and ‘insignificant’ John the Baptist. The message was compelling: God calls insignificant people like us to do powerful things.

Praying at St. Trinita in Florence

4/15/2018

One of my go-to prayer churches in Florence is St. Trinita, a small, gothic style church on Piazza Trinita, and near Ponte Trinita. A trinity in itself.
I sit in a pew that gives me a view of Christ’s life through art.

Runners and churches in Rome

4/9/2018

A beautiful day yesterday for the half-marathon run throughout Rome. So many runners, so many groups, running for autism and cancer, supporting causes and individuals. I am called to the Christian story, but clearly the Christ was in every person I passed, in every runner and spectator, in every person selling bottles of water. God shows no partiality.
Rome is a city of many churches, most built in the 16th century as Rome responded to the Protestant Reformation. Baroque, baroque, baroque. Here are some I passed on my walk around the city. Sorry I can't give you the names.