Learning about Indigenous People - National Day of Mourning Protest

Thanksgiving looms large in our Amercian experience, and is a designated holy day in the Episcopal Church. But the story we tell of the first Thanksgiving needs to include the living experience of the Indigenous peoples of North American, and by extension, the experience of Indigenous people around the world. Here is the Boston Globe article about an important local tradition: the National Day of Mourning Protest in Plymouth, Massachusetts

Learning about Indigenous Peoples - New Installation the MFA

In our land acknowledgement before worship each Sunday, as part of our journey to justice and reconciliation, we commit to learning about the experience of Indigenous peoples. Below is a recent article from the Boston Globe about a new installation at the Museum of Fine Arts, shifting our perspective of the famous “Appeal to the Great Spirit” that has adorned the entrance to the MFA for over a century.

Transgender Day of Remembrance via TransEpiscopal

Dorie found this reflection from TransEpiscopal to be especially poignant on the Transgender Day of Remembrance, celebrated this year on November 20, 2024. Started in response to the unsolved murder of Rita Hester in Allston, MA, TDOR serves as a way to memorialize trans lives lost to violence and call attention to the disproportionate amount of discrimination and harm that trans people experience, especially BIPOC trans people.

As Episcopalians, we are called to affirm the beloved nature of all of our siblings, including and especially those who are marginalized. Our trans siblings face particularly heinous discrimination and challenges, and we must bear witness to those who have died, and stand in solidarity with and fight for those who still live. In this political moment, this work is all too urgent.

If you’d like to learn more about advocating for trans folks in the Boston area, or would like Episcopal resources for affirming our trans siblings, feel free to reach out to Dorie.

Ted's Christmas Letter

Christmas 2023

Dear St. John’s Community,

The season of Christmas is a marker like no other in our shared life.  By the time Christmas Day dawns for us here in North America, people around the world will have held religious services and family gatherings, parties and celebrations, spoken in countless languages and marked by a wondrous array of cultural traditions.  The Christmas season is a world-wide inbreaking of hope and light, made especially poignant for us in the northern hemisphere by its proximity to the winter solstice, the longest night of the year.  Christmas comes to bring light into our darkness every year.

While Christmas marks our shared life, our lives mark Christmas.  The Christmas we celebrate is marked by the life changes we experience in the year prior.  In the Cole home, we have been looking at videos of Christmas past when Theo and Zachary were experiencing it for the first time.  Those were wondrous and joyful Christmas celebrations, marking a “before time” for Sage and me forever changed when, from the unknown we all come from before conception and birth, these two beautiful boys entered our lives.  As I look to the horizon of this coming Christmas, I am reflecting on it being the first without my Mother in the world, the first Christmas where all my grandparents and now both my parents have crossed over into the unknown we go to at death. There is a sadness in this reflection, but with that sadness a hope in the mystery that is Christmas.  The mystery of Christmas is God entering our world from we know not where and manifesting in our darkness Christ’s love and light.  In that mystery, my loved ones are parted from me but not from God, and in God, love still binds us together even when I see them no longer.  

I wonder what life changes have marked your Christmas across the years.  I wonder what in your life has changed this past year that will mark the coming Christmas season.  I wonder who has come into your life bringing surprise and wonder.  I wonder who has moved on, leaving sadness but maybe also a hope that, in the end, God’s love holds us all together.

At St. John’s, we constantly experience comings and goings, some long expected, some unexpected.  In those comings and goings, there is a center in this place that holds us as we come and go, a center in Christ that manifests when we care for one another, when we care for those around us, when we care for those around the world, and importantly when we care for ourselves.  St. John’s is a center we come to for spiritual sustenance, for inspiration, for beauty, for healing, for blessing that we might go forth as a blessing to others.  That is how Christ comes to us, to bless us that we might be a blessing to those we meet along our way, from one Christmas to the next.

Each Christmas season here at St. John’s, we share a financial appeal.  This year, we reach out to ask your help to end 2023 well and set us up for an abundant 2024.  Our financial life in the aftermath of the COVID 19 pandemic is challenging, but there are signs of hope.  We have new pledging households for the first time in a couple of years and an array of organizations and groups using our space and enriching our community.  We are finishing up a robust round of capital improvements and gearing up for the next round.  

For our 2023 Christmas Appeal, we ask that each pledging household make a gift of two weeks or half a month’s pledge.  Some households will not be able to make such a gift, and we understand.  We thank you for what you do give!  Some households can and will give more, and we so appreciate your generosity!  Those of you who do not pledge to St. John’s, your generous gift of any amount to our Christmas Appeal is most appreciated!  Thank you!  Please use the enclosed envelope to make your Christmas gift to St. John’s and bring it to any of the upcoming worship services through December 31 listed below, or mail it to the church at the address at the bottom of this letter before December 31.

By supporting one another through our support of St. John’s, we keep a marker in this community of Jamaica Plain and in our lives that Christ is always at the center, is always with us, blessing us that we might be a blessing to others.  We keep the mark of Christmas manifest year round, even as we rejoice in this special annual celebration each December.  We round our comings and goings, the unknowns we come from and the unknowns we go to, with the mark of God’s love made manifest in Christ at Christmas.  And that love is forever!  Thanks be to God!

With love and blessings,

Ted+

Monday Music: Dorie's Playlist, September 25 and October 2, 2023

Happy Monday, everyone! I was busy finishing off my prospectus for my dissertation last week, so today, you all get TWO playlists for your week ahead! I’ll link them below with the correct lectionary readings for each week. Enjoy the double Scriptural jam session! —Dorie

The readings for last week are here, and the playlist is below!

And here are the readings for this coming week, with the playlist below. Happy listening!

Monday Music: Dorie's Playlist, September 18, 2023

Another Monday, another playlist!

This week, the Jewish High Holy Days are in full swing (“Avenu Malkanu”). We then rejoin Moses and the Israelites in the desert, wandering and uncertain of what their next steps can or should be (“Shine”). It’s not about long-term planning anymore—this is about survival, quite literally. I’m struck by the faith of the Israelites in this moment, soldiering on in the wilderness in spite of doubt, regret, lack of food or shelter. I’m not sure I would have had their fortitude! God ultimately provides for them (“Big God”), and the Israelites come together once again (“Crowded Table”).

Moving onward, Paul’s letter to the Philippians encourages us to live in a Christlike manner in spite of what the rest of the world may say or do in response (“We Are Golden"). His messages about suffering for Christ as a privilege, while certainly intended as an inspiration for Christians to stand firm in faith, trouble me. Suffering is an unavoidable aspect of the human condition, and can allow someone to make meaning in their life—but calling it a privilege seems to glorify it unduly as something to be sought out. Pain may demand to be felt, but that doesn’t mean that actively seeking it brings one closer to Christ, or the way of love and care that Christ desires for us.

Our Gospel then tells the famous parable of laborers in the vineyard. I think of the laborers searching for work, giving a purpose to their day ahead and the opportunity to make meaning out of it (“Lilac Wine”). I think about the generosity of the vineyard owner, willing to share his wealth with those he hired and I wonder what may have inspired such giving (“Give It Away”). And then, as the parable ends, I marvel again at how the way of Christ fundamentally upends established social orders, and reveals a new way of abundance and care for one another (“Upside Down”). It’s a good reminder for me, that looking at things in a new way can shift my perspective, and help me see the love I might not have seen otherwise!

It’s my prayer that we all can take a moment to try and see things in a new way this week. Blessings to you all!

Read along with the lectionary here, and check out the whole playlist below.

Monday Music: Dorie's Playlist, September 11, 2023

This coming Sunday, we have the dramatic conclusion of the Israelites’ escape from Egypt, some musings from Paul on ultimate unity in Christ, and some interesting thoughts about forgiveness from Jesus—all of which makes for some pretty amazing playlist material. Let’s jump in!

First and foremost, the Jewish high holy days are beginning, with Rosh Hashanah beginning on the evening of September 15th . Given that we as Christians are deeply rooted within Jewish traditions and thought surrounding our understanding of our faith, we begin with a beautiful musical interpretation of Psalm 24 (“Achat Sha’alti”), which echoes some ideas found in our reading from the letter to the Romans. Moving on to our Hebrew Bible reading, I’m struck by the darkness that surrounded the Israelites, that protected them from the Egyptian army—what was it like to experience darkness as a comfort, as a protector? (“De Selby, Part One”). We then encounter Moses splitting the Red Sea through the power of God (“Red Cow”), allowing the Israelites to get to safety. The Egyptians, however, are swept away and drowned in a final dramatic scene (“The Sound of Silence”). I can’t help but wonder what it was like to see the Egyptians utterly decimated like that—to see so much violent death so suddenly.

Moving on to the letter from the Romans, Paul offers pointed instructions regarding judgment: namely, don’t do it. His reasoning stems from his conviction that all of us, ultimately, will be united in Christ, and petty differences that divide us take us away from that reality (“Fade Into You”). Paul has a point, but I also think that difference and particularity shouldn’t be thrown away so quickly—our differences and distinctions shape our collective reality in ways that should be met and understood, not merely dismissed. Racism, sexism, homophobia, and ableism, for example, would go unchecked and unaddressed in enraging and catastrophic ways if we did not listen to people who have experienced those realities. We can be destined for ultimate cosmic unity while still affirming the particularity of someone’s experiences.

Finally, we receive a doozy of a tale about forgiveness in our Gospel. Certainly, the point is that we as Christians are called to forgive each other (“All Apologies”, “Posthumous Forgiveness”). However, that forgiveness can look very different depending on the behavior that follows (“Pay My Debts”). Forgiveness is only one piece of the puzzle; it’s what we do with it afterward that can determine if we are truly following the way of love found in Christ. We find ourselves where we started, back in the darkness again—only this time, the darkness is a place of misery and gnashing of teeth (“De Selby Part Two”).

You can read the stories here, and listen to the playlist below. See you next Monday!

Monday Music: Dorie's Playlist, September 4, 2023

This week, we encounter stark dualities in all of our readings: between life and death in the continuing saga of Moses and the Israelites, between living a loving life modeled after Christ in Romans, and in mediating disagreements and their consequences in Matthew. God dramatically reveals plans to murder the firstborns of the Egyptians after previous plagues had not succeeded in persuading Pharaoh (“Dorothy”), and the text takes a grim tone as the Israelites make preparations to spare themselves from this plague (“All Along the Watchtower”). I can’t help but wonder what the final thoughts of the firstborns may have been (“The Trapeze Swinger”). And while God is continuing in a decidedly genocidal direction which should give us all pause, it’s also worth noting that these sacred stories are opportunities for us to make meaning out of the chaos that happens. Our Jewish siblings take this responsibility very seriously, especially as they celebrate Passover with a liturgical intricacy and precision for thousands of years (“Dayenu”).

Moving on to Paul’s letter to the Romans, we are instructed to regard ourselves as fundamentally equal to one another, to owe one another nothing, and to love one another as perfectly as Christ loves us. Personally, I sometimes find this easier said than done (“The Debt I Owe”). Paul doesn’t leave us with some impossible task, though—we are shown that we do have the capacity to overcome any individual condition that seeks to divide us from the unitive love in Christ (“Meet Me By the River’s Edge”). Finally, in our Gospel, Matthew shows Jesus’ instructions on how to resolve disagreements, including the importance of communication and listening (“Space Oddity”) and remembering that community can be a tool to help (“Forever On Your Side”). I wonder, though, what’s on the other side of that—what sadness and pain rear up from the depths when reconciliation simply cannot happen (“Say Something”).

Follow along with the lectionary here, and listen to the playlist below. Happy Labor Day!

Monday Music: Dorie's Playlist, August 28, 2023

This coming Sunday, we’re going to be encountering the fantastic, the horrifying, the mysterium tremendum et fascinans in a huge way. First of all, we witness Moses’s encounter with the burning bush (“Fire on High”). I can only imagine how disoriented and fearful he felt during that encounter (“Am I Dreaming”), and what it may have been like for him to describe that experience to his camp (“Meet Me in the Woods”). In our New Testament reading, we hear some sage advice from Paul, exhorting us all to act as Christ would act (“Divisionary (Do the Right Thing)”). In our Gospel, we get another dramatic scene between Jesus and Peter, where Jesus reveals exactly what being the Messiah will mean personally (“Release”) and for the larger community (“A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”). Peter is notably disturbed by this revelation, and I imagine it’s two-fold: it’s both gruesome and bleak to begin with, and it’s also happening to his friend and teacher—someone he can’t imagine living without (“You Can’t Always Get What You Want”).

I’m struck this week by how grounding Paul’s instructions are—as much as I love the dramatic elements of the Hebrew Bible and the Gospel, it can be challenging to know exactly what to do with that, and how to apply it to our everyday lives. I’m also struck by how, in these stories, the events that transpire are pretty amazing and also pretty horrifying. I definitely identify with Peter and Moses in these stories: if I were them, I’d absolutely feel overwhelmed, unworthy, and very disturbed by what was coming to pass. And yet, all we can do is what we can do—we put one foot in front of the other, sometimes with trepidation and reluctance, and trusting that our fantastic and tremendous God will be walking alongside us.

Check out the lectionary readings here, and listen along to the playlist below!