Charleston: All Faithful Departed

Charleston: All Faithful Departed

“You have heard the whispers on quiet summer evenings when you have been walking alone. They are the sound of the ancestors, speaking softly just on the other side of what we call real. You have seen the strange lights at twilight, like candles lit in evening rooms, beckoning people home to houses you cannot see. You have felt the touch on your shoulder, when you were deep in prayer or bent with worry, and known the energy that hums along the wires of faith, the presence of a power that knows how to heal. You have experienced the physical mystery that surrounds us, the mystery of the Spirit, the thousand tiny proofs that we live next door to heaven, waking up in a wonder we are only beginning to discover.” Bishop Steven Charleston, Facebook, October 31,2018.

Yesterday was All Saints, and today is The Celebration of All Faithful Departed. These two liturgical celebrations are our church’s family reunion day. It is the time for us to pull out our family photograph album and remember where we came from and all the faithful who influenced our lives.

Where were you the night of April 4, 1968? My husband and I were seniors in medical school in Memphis. That night Martin Luther King was assassinated outside of the Loraine Motel. Memphis became a police state. Clergy in Memphis decided to respond by marching to the office of the mayor, Henry Loeb and ask for relief for the sanitation workers on strike who had brought King to Memphis.. The ministers gathered at St. Mary's Episcopal Cathedral. At the last moment, the Dean, William Dimmick, who later became the bishop of Northern Michigan, (also baptized our two sons) went into the Cathedral and took the processional cross from the high altar. Holding it high above him (he was a very short man), he led the march down Poplar Avenue to City Hall.

The air was electric. Down the streets they marched. One Methodist minister writes about one moment he will never forget. As the clergy are marching down Poplar Avenue, up ahead, he sees an elderly woman sitting on her front porch. As the procession approaches her, she stands up and screams, "GET THAT CROSS BACK IN THE CHURCH WHERE IT BELONGS!"1

Dean Dimmick took the cross out of the cathedral into the streets of a city on the verge of riot. He taught us where Christ lives especially in times of grief and oppression. Christ is out in the midst of the mess. Christ was out walking the streets of Memphis in 1968.

Today my prayer is that we will be able to emulate what we learned from Dean Dimmick and take Christ out to those who are sick and suffering, to those who are hungry, to those living in poverty, to those who have been victims of the many episodes of recent violence in our country and their families, to immigrants in and outside of our country and all over the world, to those who are lonely and fearful, to those who are invisible to most of us much of the time.

It always helps to remember especially on this day that in some way we cannot explain, that Dean Dimmick will always be there beside us, praying and cheering us on.

1. Preaching through the year of Mark, "Stepping out of the Tent," Katherine Moorehead. p. 75.

Joanna Joannaseibert.com

Schaefer: Baptism

Guest Writer Chris Schaefer

Our Baptism today

“Baptism as a way to the freedom of the children of God and as a way to a life in community calls for a personal commitment. There is nothing magical or automatic about this sacrament. Having water poured over us while someone says, “I baptize you in the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit,” has lasting significance only when we are willing to claim and reclaim in all possible ways the spiritual truth of who we are as baptized people.” Bread for the Journey by Henri Nouwen, September 29

Traditionally baptisms will be happening all over the world this Sunday as many congregations will observe the liturgy of All Saints Day. As we remember those who have died, we celebrate new birth. Claiming our spiritual truth as baptized people is so important and significant for us today. Today’s world is confusing and challenges us to work even harder to live our spiritual truth. I recently was challenged to look back at our Baptismal Covenant to find answers to questions about how our spiritual truth applies to us in today’s world. Well, it was here that I found, or better still was reminded of, what “the spiritual truth of who we are as baptized people” is. Like some of our prayers or creeds, we tend to read or recite them from root memory often losing the heart of the words we are saying. This is how I felt as I started going through the renewal of the Baptismal Covenant but then I came up short. As I read the last two questions I found my answers.

“Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

I will, with God’s help.

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every

human being?

I will, with God’s help. “ Book of Common Prayer,

p. 305.

There it is! We are already committed to what we are striving for. We are already in covenant with God to act on our commitment to Him. No matter what happens in the world, we can make a difference by leaning into that covenant. I must remember that no act or gesture is too small to make a positive, loving difference in someone’s life. And that it is only with God’s help that I can make anything happen. We already belong to this life in community. We are already joined together by our common covenant. We all must be willing to reclaim our spiritual truth of who we are as baptized people. We all must make that personal commitment.

Chris Schaefer

A night to remember

A Night to Remember

“A Prayer for the Whole Human Family.
O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. Book of Common Prayer, p. 815.

Last night we attended the packed service at Temple B’nai Israel led by Rabbi Barry Block for the eleven people who died at Tree of Life Congregation in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburg during Jewish religious services on Saturday. As I looked out to the woods beyond their wall to wall glass windows at the front of Temple B’nai Israel sanctuary, I remember so many Christmas Eve services we participated in at the Temple when we were at St. Margaret’s Episcopal Church before St. Margaret’s had a church building, and this congregation offered their space for us to worship.

One of the speakers last night mentioned that the part of the building we were in and also where the eleven worshippers were murdered is called a sanctuary, a safe place. This is what we all consider our places of worship to be, a safe place. Supposedly, that is why Episcopal Churches have red doors, a sign of a sanctuary, a safe place.

During most of the service, members of the congregation were adding more chairs as people continued to pour in. As you can see from our picture, we were at the far back but had seats thanks to Mary Manning from St. Mark’s who saved us our two seats. Eventually there was standing room only with faith leaders and politicians and friends I knew who were members of the congregation and many I knew I had seen before but could not recall their names. One of the physicians, Jim Aronson, whom we worked with at Children’s Hospital who grew up in Squirrel Hill and knew so many of those who died, spoke. Jim shared stories of Squirrel Hill and the Tree of Life Congregation as we began to become connected to that congregation as we were to the Jewish community here present in Little Rock.

Love, community, peace, compassion, empathy, friendship, common ground, togetherness, oneness dwelt in this sanctuary last night.

Perhaps two events that occurred as we were leaving may best describe what was happening. Two of the opposing candidates for mayor left with their arms embracing each other’s necks, one African American, one white. After the service, a social worker, Debby Brady, we knew from Children’s Hospital, a member of the congregation whom we had not seen in probably twenty years, insisted on driving us to our car several blocks away as she thanked us for being there.

We can still barely talk about it.

Joanna. Joannseibert.com