The St. Hilda - St. Patrick team raised $1,265.00 for Race for the Cure this year! Rosemary Stapleton was the team member with the most donations: $550. Thank you to every one who walked and/or supported our team.
Thanksgiving Thoughts
1. Cranberry relish. The cranberry relish is made and I discovered the correct marking on the package. My cranberries were grown just a few miles from me after all. All we do to make it is to grind up a package of raw cranberries with an orange and add some sugar for taste. You will never find a can shaped cranberry blob on my table. Normally, my children make it and they squabble about who is adding the most cranberries. They have made the cranberry relish from the time they could walk but this year Lucas is in France with his girlfriend and Kaley arrives on Thanksgiving day just in time for dinner. Unfortunately, my relish is a little more pureed than it should be because of the food processor. When I was a child, before electricity was discovered, I would help my Mom make it with a hand grinder that we latched onto the table. The consistency was chunkier and I think it tasted better.
2. Lucas. Last year we had the delight of introducing an American Thanksgiving to Lucas’ French friends. This year, Lucas requested that I send him my recipes for the basics. He and Magali are going to try to pull off Thanksgiving dinner in Lyon. They have two big obstacles. Everything will need to be changed to metric and they will have trouble finding the ingredients. They do not have cranberries, canned pumpkin, sweet potatoes, or even turkeys without special order.
3. My walk. It is a gorgeous day. I was angry when I got home because my shoe was all squished with dog poop. Why oh why don’t people clean up after their dogs?? I would never consider leaving an Apolo pile behind. Canine fecal coliform is the number one growing pollutant in Puget Sound a few feet away. Apolo poops huge piles and we have been having “three bags full” walks lately after Dave switched to Costco dog food. With leaves all over the ground, dog piles blend in so somewhere within a three mile radius of my house, I really smashed a pile.
4. Thoughts. I still had thoughts running through my head on my walk. Maybe it is good that I did not discover my poopy shoe until I smeared it on my wood floor or my thoughts would have been interrupted. On Monday afternoons, I try to make it to my church for our weekly Ministry Meeting. Anyone can come. About five of us meet with our priest, Peter and now our new assisting priest, Cynthia. Basically, we shoot the breeze. We discuss who we are and what we should be doing as followers of Christ. We laugh. We cry. We try to get this religious thing right which is difficult when it is really all one big exciting mystery.
5. Advent. We are trying to figure out how to present Advent to the congregation this year. God loved us so much that he sent his Son to us to be born in a smelly old barn. Joseph probably had poop squished on his sandals. But then—he probably did not notice. All of us in the room yesterday shared our deep concerns. Our Episcopal Diocese is trying to attack extreme poverty and disease in Africa. We have some excellent programs that are working and reaching people but it is not enough. My little thing at the moment is to try to do something about global climate change with my local Thanksgiving but it is not enough. Another person in the room is in charge of supplying Thanksgiving baskets, Christmas gifts and food, and Easter baskets to 11 needy families but it is not enough. She shared that in all of the 20 years she has been doing this, the families are more desperate than ever before. More families are using our food pantry than ever before. We don’t have enough. One group of folks from our congregation just returned from New Orleans. Another group is leaving next week but it is not enough. The consequences of Katrina are still unimaginable.
6. Epiphany. And then we kind of had an epiphany. We have been trying to grow our church by advertising and asking people to join us for their own personal spiritual journeys. But isn’t this appealing to every one’s selfishness? “Come and worship with us. You will be welcomed. You will have fun. You will feel good. Joy with Jesus!” Nope, it hasn’t worked. In the mean time, our government is doing squat about poverty, disease, global warming, and disaster relief while it spends trillions of dollars on war. Nada! Nothing. But churches—oh my gosh—churches are facing these issues and doing things about them and actually having success and making a difference.
7. We can do it. So, perhaps people will be attracted to churches when they realize they can actually participate in tackling the major problems in the world and in our communities. One can be plugged into an entire array of programs by stepping through our doors. For example, on Sunday I learned how I could save the lives of children in an entire family in Africa by donating one mosquito net. This inexpensive item donated through a Seattle scientific organization in partnership with our Episcopal Diocese will help prevent malaria. Yesterday, one of us questioned whether or not talking about cyclones, earthquakes and brain-eating amoebas in the weeks before Christmas was too depressing. The answer is that having each of us involved in taking action to solve problems is the greatest gift we can give to the Christ child during Advent. And when we all gather together and participate in large numbers, it may be enough. It just might be enough.
We call this hope. Yes, that’s it. Advent is a time of great hope.
reprinted from http://mukilteomusings.blogspot.com/Â by Janet Eaton
Do you consider yourself a member of a particular community? Do you give all of your time and attention to that particular community? On the other hand, do you consider yourself a member of a variety of communities? Do you divide your time and attention equally between these communities? How do you prioritize where your time and attention go? Are you able to articulate which (if any) community is more important, or do you respond to what seems most urgent? Do you recognize that there is a difference between urgency and importance, and does that play a part in your decision-making about where, when, and why you spend your time and attention?Â
I’m asking these questions for a reason: As we plan for a new church year, we want you to recognize how and where this particular community fits for you. Would you take the time to answer these questions:Â
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Our culture makes many different demands upon us, and people develop assumptions based on popularity of opinion, without questioning whether the popular opinion is the one to which they actually subscribe.Â
It’s time for us to answer who we are as a community, without the veil of popular opinion, and without bowing to what culture dictates. What is most important to us, and what is the focus of our community?Â
We have a huge amount to offer to one another and the larger community and culture around us. But we first need to determine what it is that is important to us as members of this particular community. Will you think on this? Will you then respond to our community in a new creative and visionary way? Mary Gates
The shootings at Virginia Tech got to me last week. My family members are on three different college campuses and it all makes me realize that such a horrific event could happen anywhere in the United States. Our prayers are with the victims and their families. In addition, our prayers are with the family of the young man who committed this atrocity and then took his own life. As a church, we must be ever mindful of our youth and the struggles they face. We must do all we are able to do so that this never ever happens again. Peace be with us all.
St. Hilda St. Patrick’s Peace Garden and Labyrinth.
cross-posted from
http://mukilteomusings.blogspot.com/
The Children of Camden
Last night my husband and I watched ABC’s 20/20 with Diane Sawyer. The program was about America’s children in poverty. Camden, New Jersey was the star because it is the poorest and most violent community in our country. Sawyer profiled several kids living in Camden and compared them to a nearby neighborhood of kids living an upscale life. These two communities are ten minutes apart and yet the Camden kids live in complete squalor. Many of the children are homeless and if they are lucky enough to have a place to live, they survive without lights or heat surrounded by cockroaches and drug deals.
I think I lost it when little Ivan at the beginning of kindergarten was asked to count how many times a day we have meals and to name them. Easy for a five year old, right?? Answer: three meals a day 1-2-3, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Although this five year old was able to count, he had absolutely no idea how to respond to the simple question. Ivan doesn’t have enough to eat—in the United States of America.
It all took me back to my days as a teacher’s aide in a remedial program in a school in the poorest area of Kansas City, KS. No difference exists between the abilities of the kids in the oppressed parts of our cities and the abilities of the kids in fancy suburbs–NONE. The difference between the children is opportunity, chance, self-confidence and dignity. Having a warm home with books and three meals a day can change everything. It makes me furious that we have such a huge problem in this nation.
Drugs and alcohol ruin these kids forever when they hit their teen years. It is not hard to understand joining a gang and taking drugs if you sleep in a cold room on a chair with your siblings. Drugs and gangs are the symptom and not the cause. We need to help children at an early age in order to instill hope and to encourage their passions and dreams. They need to believe in themselves and the possibilities of a good life.
Imagine–imagine if we took a fraction of the 4 billion dollars a month we are pouring into the Iraq war and poured it into the Ninth Ward in New Orleans, the Quindaro district in Kansas City, or into Camden, New Jersey. Imagine the lives we could change. Imagine.
The link to information about 20/20 last night:
http://abcnews.go.com/2020/story?id=2819991&page=1
During the show, they mentioned the group Urban Promise which is making some inroads into the devastating poverty in Camden. They have set up a way to donate to help the kids Diane Sawyer profiled. I am so grateful this is available for us to help because during the entire program last night I kept asking what I could do.
http://up2020.servicenetwork.com/
After a little additional checking, it is not hard to find the saint who is behind all of this. His name is Bruce Main and in my opinion, he’s got the right idea about what Jesus was trying to teach us. I am happy to see that an Episcopal church in the area–St. Mary’s Episcopal–has invited Bruce Main to speak and that they support Urban Promise as a part of their outreach. Go St. Mary’s!!
http://www.urbanpromiseusa.org/
http://www.urbanpromiseusa.org/info/speakers.html
http://www.stmaryshh.org/outreach/index.html
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My head always struggles this time of year. I did not have this angst in my brain as a child. In Helena, Montana, everyone was pretty much the same economically. I didn’t see disparity between groups of people. My husband’s parents were well off by Helena’s standards. We grew up three blocks apart. Truly, minimal difference existed between our families. While they had a little money and a successful jewelry store, my father had education and the respect of the community as the principal of the local junior high.
Seattle is different. We have tons of folks with tons of money. Recently, an article in the paper told about a high school history teacher who donated $1 million to the history department at UW. He is retired and never had a salary of more than $35,000 per year. He merely dabbled in our hot real estate market on the side and earned millions. Nobody knew. His first priority was his students and he is grateful for his education–hence, the donation. The history teacher is one example of many.
http://archives.seattletimes.nwsource.com/cgi-bin/texis.cgi/web/vortex/display?slug=milliondollarman01m&date=20070101&query=history+teacher+million+UW
Yet everyday on the streets of Seattle, one can witness severe poverty. Furthermore, tucked within all of the neighborhoods and only blocks from million dollar houses are apartments or small homes with people barely making it. Through my church we help these needy families in Edmonds, Lynnwood, and Mukilteo with food, presents, and basics such as toothpaste. My kids would pick a matching child of the same sex and age and shop for them. Now the match yeilds older teens who need winter coats and socks. But my help seems paltry. The families are still destitute. We still spend too much on ourselves. In my opinion, my children were raised with privilege and a nice house beyond anything I ever imagined as a kid in Helena. It is all so dichotomous.
And I am haunted always by a Christmas Eve 25 years ago. As a young lawyer working in a downtown Seattle law firm, I waited in the dark for my bus. Working in the big city was exciting. More than once while standing at the bus stop, I would look up at the sky scrapers and feel amazed that this little girl from Montana was there. But this one dark night I was approached by a homeless man. He told me he had no where to go and it was Christmas. He asked me if he could come home with me. In all likelihood, alcohol gave him the courage to pose the question. He was not belligerent. He was not coming on to me. He was not panhandling. He was a desperate and sad soul.
How did I respond? I told him it was not possible. I said no. I apologized and wished him a “Merry Christmas”. He walked away. I stared at the streets of Seattle and the Christmas lights through the bus window and tears trickled down my cheeks. The encounter profoundly affected me that Christmas and every Christmas since. I did nothing to help this person except to feel terrible about his predicament.
My response over the years, I guess, has been to teach my children. They have received my message and for this my soul is grateful. My son plans to head for South America after he graduates to teach English to children and in some way to improve living conditions for the poorest of the poor. My daughter is hooked up with some great organizations trying to end global poverty. From her, I received my best Christmas present–donations in our name to Oxfam.
http://www.oxfamamericaunwrapped.com/
Each of us received a card describing a representation of the gift she made in our name. Along with the description was a personal note from her:
1. For her brother, she bought a sheep.
“Dear Lucas, You are fortunate to be able to swathe yourself in wool and leather and to consume lamb and steak whenever you please. But some people have to live off of rice and thin textiles. This Christmas you can feel happy in knowing that your gift is allowing a family to survive and make a living. So enjoy your roast beef! Love, Kaley”
2. For her Daddy, she protected traditional fishing grounds.
“Dear Daddy, Since we have the means to be able to pay for a personal fishing trip every year to Alaska I thought it would be applicable to ensure that some family with less than that can do the same thing! I love you and Merry Christmas—feel good about this gift. Kaley”
“Dear Mommy, when you have to go to the bathroom you have the luxury of looking out at a beautiful perched view of Puget Sound in a room that will eventually be etched in luxurious marble. Some people have to %^&* in their living room. You can feel good this Christmas that you are upping someone’s quality if life even a smidgen by providing them with a fraction of the luxury you have when you excrete. I love you and Merry Christmas. Kaley”
And the song in my head as I struggle with dichotomy. Thank you, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young for “Teach Your Children“:
October 1 was a gorgeous service. My husband was off making wine and I hadn’t had a chance to call my new neighbors and friends to see if they needed a ride. As usual, I pulled out of my driveway in a hurry without my lipstick. It seems the Mukilteo police are off having doughnuts somewhere on Sunday mornings–thank goodness–because I admit I speed all the way. Inevitably, I manage to get behind someone really really slow on Bev-Ed road. Sure enough a white car going about 20 mph was ahead of me.  When I noticed myself a little too close to their bumper, I backed off. I mean, they might have been on their way to St. Hilda St. Patrick’s, too, and I do not want us to be known as the road rage church. Anyway, they did not pull into our parking lot but I did. It was full and what a lovely sight it was.
As it turned out my new friends were there and I dashed in to sit next to them. Wow! Look at all of the people. A warm calm came over me. Father Peter did not even have the guests introduce themselves because it would have taken all morning. My friends had a lot of questions which I couldn’t answer about “Little Sisters of St. Clare” or the Franciscans in attendance. Since they hail from a Roman Catholic background, they knew more than I did. I was able to explain who Bishop Hampton was, however. And I explained Dorothy’s devotion.
Visually, the service was beautiful. With all of the additional voices, “Dona Nobis Pacem” soared out of this world. Father Peter’s sermon was perfect and inspirational. I loved how he stated that “Wow!” was a most appropriate way to glorify God because that was how I was feeling. Somehow, the Gospel describing Jesus as the vine and all of us as branches even included my absent husband who was off crushing grapes.
Sister Dorothy Anne’s Profession touched me. When we witness one of our own making such sincere promises, we cannot help but do the same with our own hearts.
I send out a big “Thank You” to Sister Dorothy-Anne for sharing herself with us. Thank you to all of her friends and family and supporters who came and made our Sunday so special. Finally, I especially thank Debbie Lindhardt and her hospitality team for the fabulous lunch and reception afterwards.
My new friends, who also attended the salmon bbq, now expect this sort of celebration every week. But as long as we all have “WOW!” in our hearts every week as we spend time with each other, the Holy Spirit will be amongst us.
