Making History

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about history. Not just because we’re living through extraordinary times in world history and our nation’s history, which we are, but also because we’re doing some of our own work of creating history right now.

Our Annual Meeting is coming up in a few weeks and I’ve been working on planning for annual reports, which are a kind of writing history, a way of telling the story of who we were and what our church did in 2020.

But at the same time I’ve been digging around in older history. We’re getting ready to do some construction in the church office and we had to clear out a big closet that’s full of archival materials, of letters and correspondence and records from the 1870s and 1880s and beyond. My favorite ones are the letters from Rev. Cutler (of course), planning for the 100th anniversary of the church in 1940, and inviting people to submit a memory, or make a donation, or come and celebrate with St. John’s. My absolute favorite letters are the ones saying “no” because people found some extraordinarily polite ways to say, “No, I can’t help you.”

It strikes me, though, that none of them thought they were writing history. The notion that one of their pieces of stationery with a careful note would become a part of the historical record, the idea that I, eighty years later, would be reading what they’d written, would seem bizarre.

But that’s what we’re all doing, all the time. Every action we take every day, everything that we say to another person, everything that we do, is creating part of our world history and of our own personal histories. There may be a casual compliment that you give, or a harsh word you wish you hadn’t spoken, that’s remembered years down the road; that shapes somebody, that transforms the path that they’re walking through life. And all of that is history.

So as we ponder how to remember 2020, remember also that the way we talk about our pasts shapes our futures; the way we think about our past shapes the way we live our lives in the present, and the way we will live our lives for years to come. So when you think about 2020—when you think about 2021!—I pray that you do it in the spirit of love and hope that God has given us by the Holy Spirit, who gives us faith for a brighter world to come.

Peace

The theme for this week, for the Second Sunday of Advent, is “Peace.” When I think about peace, I think about the Hebrew word shalom, which we usually translate “peace”; but it means something a little different. I speak a little modern Hebrew. In fact, I speak about as much modern Hebrew as a one-and-a-half-to-two year old—and I know this because we have a lot of them in our neighborhood. The second-most-spoken language in our local elementary school is not Spanish or Mandarin or Hindi, but Hebrew; there are a lot of Israeli expats and immigrants who work in the tech sector in Cambridge and live near us. So I’ve gotten a lot of practice with my playground-Hebrew listening skills.

When you say “How are you?” in Hebrew you say, Ma shalomka? It means “how are you,” but if you didn’t know that you might translate it, “How is your peace?” This should be our first hint that shalom doesn’t really mean what we think of as “peace” in English.

When I think of “peace,” I think of the absence of something: the absence of conflict, the absence of noise, the absence of trouble. “I just want a little peace and quiet.” But shalom must mean something else. “How is your peace?”

Here’s the second clue: when you’ve paid a bill in Hebrew, you say Shilemti et ha-cheshbon, “I made peace with the bill.” “Peace” has this sense of wholeness, of rightness, of completion. When I make peace with the bill, I’ve paid it off; I’ve completed the transaction. When I am at peace, I am whole, I am well, I am healthy. There is something right between me and the world, between me and God.

A lot of us have had more peace than we wanted to, in the sense of “peace and quiet” in the last month. It’s been so quiet we’ve felt isolated. Some of us, especially those with little kids or loud family members working next to us, have had too little peace in the sense of “peace and quiet.” But I think none of us have had quite enough peace in that sense of wholeness, of wellness, of completion, of rightness between ourselves and the world, between us and God.

So this week, I wonder; what is it that is bringing you peace? What is it that’s not just bringing you quiet, but wholeness? How can we cultivate peace in a world that’s often not peaceful? How can we grow into our whole selves, at peace with God and one another?

Saint John’s Choir!

Our lovely, talented, dedicated Saint John’s Episcopal Church Choir, directed by the Organist and Choirmaster, prepare for our Festival of Lessons & Carols in the soft glow of a yesterday’s late afternoon winter light.

Join us December 14th at 5PM for an afternoon of enchantment, as we celebrate the stories and songs that are this season of wonder. Please support us with your “Like,” and “Share,” and “Invite Friends” on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can scroll down and see the Left Sidebar on our Website, where we have large icons for each. Click on the icon for Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram to navigate quickly and easily to each.

At Saint John’s Episcopal Church, Charlestown, MA, we’re always so glad you’re here!

Saint John’s Episcopal Church
27 Devens Street
Charlestown, MA 02129  (617) 242-1272

Presiding Bishop Curry to Preach at the Royal Wedding

The Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, the Right Reverend Michael Curry, will preach the sermon at the wedding service of Prince Harry and Megan Markle this Saturday, May 19th. Bishop Curry is known for his charismatic and evangelistic preaching, and his invitation to preach at the service is a siginficant and welcome departure from royal tradition. To read more, click here.