Thanksgiving Greeting from the Rector of St. Luke's

Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
 
Even as we emerge from the COVID-19 pandemic, we face a world that is torn by strife - a vicious war of aggression in Ukraine, continuing political division in our own nation, new threats of viral respiratory infections among the youngest and oldest members of our society.

While over the last two years, we were advised to limit our gatherings to closest family and friends , this year, we will be able to see one another in ways we have missed and learned to cherish. For this one thing, we must be thankful.

While we face difficult challenges in an unstable economy, and uncertain public health environment, a world order that is in turmoil, we must realize that these things are not new to our human experience. The Scriptures tell stories of challenges faced by humanity, and the nation of Israel in particular. The one constant in all these stories is the constancy and faithfulness of our God.

If we would but stop and pause to look around us, we see the work of God's mission everywhere: in the generosity of volunteers caring for the poor and the hungry; in the efforts of diplomats and world leader to work together on climate change; in our families as we see our children grow, as the child Jesus did, in wisdom and grace.

As Priest and pastor of St. Luke's Church here in Lebanon, I am particularly thankful for the commitment of so many of our parishioners, who throughout this most challenging time, have continued to foster their growth as disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ. By your prayers and support, you provide not only for your own growth but continue to support the work of God's mission in our wider community. You make clear that even in difficult and challenging times, that the church of Christ persists, and the work of the Gospel continues unabated.

With your support, St. Luke’s continues its programming for children and youth as we discover again how to learn alongside one other as well joining together for prayer and fellowship. Online bible studies and webcasts of our live worship services continue the work of reconnecting members of our parish family even as it extends that family beyond the confines of immediate Lebanon area.

Clearly, our current challenges have done little to stifle our community's dedicated service to the poor and others at the margin of society, as we continue to support the work of organizations like Lebanon County Christian Ministries financially, and when possible with our volunteer energies. These and other programs give abiding witness to the values of social justice and reconciliation that are essential to the mission and ministry of all communities of faith.

Most especially, I am grateful for our community’s quiet and constant witness to the gospel - the good news of Jesus - that lies at the core of our life together – whether we gather as Christ's Church in person or in our ZOOM rooms!

The Book of Common Prayer, along with Holy Scripture, lies at the heart of our tradition, and bids us daily to turn to God with truly thankful hearts so that

we may show forth God's praise, not only with our lips, but in our lives, as we give up ourselves to God's service, that all people may come to walk before God in holiness and righteousness all our days.

This we can do surrounded by a great throng of family and friends or even just with those with whom we live. So, we continue to give God thanks and praise regardless of the size of the crowd that may gather.

On behalf of St. Luke's Episcopal Church, I urge you to take some time to count your blessings, even as challenging times continue, and wish you and yours, a safe and very Happy Thanksgiving.

To Heal the Broken-hearted

By a rough count with a fading memory, I attended at least twenty wakes and funerals by the time I turned twelve. It was not until much later that I realized that many of my contemporaries did not share my experience. For them, waiting in lines at wakes was not a sought-after activity.

I went mostly because my parents went. They went because their elders went. They did not go because others forced them into it but because it was simply “What we do.” This is how we show up for one another. How we honor relationships. This is how we get through the pain and help others get through theirs.

The list of those mourned eventually grew to include those close to me – my “Uncle Leo” (not my uncle but my mother’s second cousin’s husband) to whom I grew exceptionally close. Not long after was my “busza” – my great grandmother – the last of her generation. Then there was my own godfather “Corky” who died prematurely by today’s standards from of a type of heart disease that we soon discovered ran in my dad’s family. And just a year later, my Aunt Ginka (her name was really Genevieve), Corky’s sister. Again, neither were really uncle or aunt but were my dad’s first cousins with whom he grew up under the care of their father, my great-uncle Martin (whose funeral was one of the first I remember). Through all this I became intimately familiar with the layout of the two funeral homes used by both branches of my family.

For many people these days, attendance at funerals has become fraught and, sometimes, impossible when the pandemic limited the number of mourners allowed to gather (if at all). Some memorial services were put on hold and yet remain uncelebrated. As the celebrations became less possible, we began to realize how much they really matter.

Ritual is what humans do to help each other navigate the ambiguities of our uncertain lives. For Episcopalians, the Rite of Christian Burial helps point us to the promise of eternal life. It uses the sad occasion of the death of someone we love to remind us that in Christ, there is always the promised vision of the heavenly Jerusalem. The services act as a counterpoint to the grief we feel. It doesn’t take it away, but provides a hopeful, forward-looking ritual.

Our tendency sometimes is not to walk through the grief at all, but to avoid it at all costs. The funeral rites in Book of Common Prayer stand in marked contrast to an increasingly popular to hold a “celebration of life.” What this developing custom fails to acknowledge is that it is backward-looking – entirely focused on the past. Remembering is good, but because we still live in the world, we must be able eventually to move into our own future.

We live in a culture that does not want to consider, even briefly, termination, with an end that is “full-stop.” Our culture seeks to deny the limits of our physical nature and existence and the limits of time. Perhaps that is why we crave 24/7 availability, open stores on days usually reserved for family celebrations (like Thanksgiving) and keep people working late on Christmas Eve. It urges us to alter our bodies surgically rather than allow them to show signs of age. In a culture of limitless consumption, it becomes easier to ignore the fact that our time on this earth is limited.

When my father spoke with me about his own obituary, he made it clear that he didn’t want to “pass on” or be “called home” or “join the angels.” He wanted a simple statement telling people that he died. Perhaps his comfort with this idea was because of his constant exposure to it as a younger man. This experience left him, and me, with the understanding that while sad, and sometimes tragic, death is inevitable – that it is a part of life.

It is probably true that no one wants to be at a funeral. It means that in that place there are people whose hearts have broken. Too often, we feel pressured to “say the right thing,” trying to make things better – which seldom happens. What is a bit easier (though uncomfortable) is simply showing up – being there – without words but with hearts wide open with empathy and love. Our presence makes a difference because there is kinship in knowing that we are not alone in our suffering.

This work is part of our mission. To heal the brokenhearted – or at least to open ourselves to the possibility that God can use us to work God’s healing. During this month of remembering and giving thanks, let us think about how we, individually and as a parish family can become part of this great and necessary work.