Unity Matters. May 28, 2023. The Reverend David M. Stoddart

 

Acts 2:1-21

One day a young man visited a very traditional church whose denomination is best left unsaid. The music was beautiful, the liturgy was flawless, and everyone was impeccably dressed. It wasn’t exactly a warm place: actually it felt very cold and formal. But the readings, the hymns, the whole experience somehow moved this man deeply. He raised his hands in prayer, praise for God filling his heart as his body swayed gently to the choir’s anthem. The people around him, however, looked on in dismay, whispering among themselves until, finally, one of the ushers, an especially severe looking gentleman in a bespoke suit, came marching down the aisle. He went right up to where the young man was sitting, wrapped in prayer, and said, “Excuse me, sir. Your behavior is most inappropriate. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.” The young man looked bewildered and said, “But why? I am enjoying the music and the worship. I’ve got the Spirit!” And the usher replied, “Well, you didn’t get it here.”

F0r the record, I am quite certain you can get the Spirit in the Episcopal Church. That said, however, I know that many people (and not just Episcopalians) can feel very uncomfortable with the manifestations of the Holy Spirit described in the New Testament, things like speaking in tongues, prophesying, and worshiping with jubilant enthusiasm. So pronounced is such behavior in our reading from Acts today that onlookers accuse the disciples of being drunk at 9:00 in the morning.

But I don’t actually want to focus on our worship style this morning. I want to take one step back and remind us all of what the Holy Spirit does that causes such joy and effusiveness. The primary thing the Spirit does in the Bible is not fill us with good feelings or make us clap our hands and shout during the liturgy. No, the first and most important work of the Holy Spirit is to make us one with Christ and one with each other. Realizing that essential unity matters more than anything else. Everything — everything —depends on that. The source, the wellspring of all the joy, all the manifestations, all the gifts, all the fruits, all the power of the Holy Spirit is a profound experience of union with God, with other human beings, and with all of creation. When through the Spirit we see that we are truly one, all of us deeply interconnected, then the infinite power of love is unleashed and there are no limits to the joy and wonder we can know.

Just look at this reading from Acts. When the Spirit is poured out, then all the usual divisions of nationality and language are overcome, and everyone is connected. Everyone hears the Good News, everyone shares in the same experience of divine love. They are a very diverse crowd, but even so they are one. And when Peter stands up to preach, he quotes the prophet Joel, who predicted that someday God would pour out God’s Spirit on all flesh, and all flesh would be united: sons and daughters, young and old, slaves and free – they would all share in the same Spirit, a prophecy that is fulfilled on that first Pentecost and continues to this day. So we are not just one with each other here, but one with people around the world. And not just with those who are alive, but also with those who have died. In our Evening Prayer service we pray that “we may be bound together by your Holy Spirit in the communion of all your saints,” i.e., all those who have gone before us. We pray for them because even now we are one with them, and in the fullness of time we will see them again.

None of this is to say that we are not individuals. Each one of us is unique and uniquely precious to God. But heavenly reality transcends all of our normal dualistic, either-or thinking. In God, we are individuals, each one of us a once-in-eternity manifestation of divine life, and at the same time we are completely one with Christ and one with every other creature through the Holy Spirit. That’s not a logical problem to be solved, but a mystery to be lived and enjoyed.

And enjoyment is where I am heading with all of this. If we want to experience the joy of the Spirit in our lives, then the way to do that is not to focus on our feelings. The way to do that is to practice communion, to practice living not as isolated, separated entities but as spiritual beings deeply connected with all that is. And to start, practice the presence of God. God is intimately close to us in every breath we take, during good times, bad times, all times. As Thomas Keating says, the only thing that separates us from God is the belief that we are separated from God. But that belief is an illusion. The Holy Spirit uses worship, prayer, acts of self-giving, moments of beauty, and countless other ways to remind us that we are in fact one with Christ, one with God, united in eternal love. Practice accepting that, practice living that, and the Spirit will move powerfully and we will feel her joy.

And in the same way, we can practice living in communion with each other. You know, people will often tell me how much they enjoyed working on a WAC cooking team, or serving in the food pantry, or participating in some ministry here at church. They usually don’t use Spirit language to describe what they’re feeling, but that’s what’s happening: as they do something in union with others, they are experiencing the Spirit’s power and joy. And that’s one of the wonders of worshiping together. When we are together like we are right now, and we’re united in prayer, exchanging the peace with each other and sharing in the Body and Blood of Christ with one another, then even with all our individual personalities and differences, we are one in the Spirit, whose love is infinite and whose joy is beyond measure. If we do nothing else on this Pentecost Sunday, we should allow ourselves to see that and celebrate that.

And how will we express it? Well, that will vary from person to person. Some will do it exuberantly and loudly, others will do it quietly and softly. If we genuinely experience the truth, then we will find an authentic way to express that truth in our lives. The means of expression, though, are secondary. What matters most is experiencing the truth, and the truth is this: through the Holy Spirit of God, you and I are one: one with Christ, one with each other, one with all that is.

The Legacy Carries On. May 21, 2023. Emily Rutledge

Ascension Sermon

Christ’s Legacy

My middle and high school years were spent at a small all-girls school in downtown Honolulu. St. Andrew’s Priory is an Episcopal school founded by Queen Emma Kaleleonalani and the Episcopal Sisters of the Transfiguration. Queen Emma traveled the world and brought the Sisters and The Episcopal Church to the islands. The Priory, as we call it, was founded on Ascension day of 1867 for girls in Hawaii to receive an education. As a school rooted in both the Anglican tradition and the Hawaiian monarchy we had deep connections to ritual and to liturgy.

To this day, every Ascension Eve, the junior class stays all night to decorate the 20 foot coral cross that the school is built around. The class creates, with more flowers than I can explain, a stunning piece of art that represents who they are as a group and presents it as a gift to the graduating seniors. The two classes sing to each other and the senior class hands the school over to the juniors, entrusting them with the care of Queen Emma’s legacy while surrounded by both the girls who are anxiously awaiting their time to decorate the cross and the women who have long since moved on from their time as students there.

Queen Emma died in 1885. The sisters no longer run the school. The monarchy was overthrown in 1893. The state capital has been built across the street from the campus since Hawaii became a state in 1959. And still, girls circle a coral cross, covered in flowers, and sing to each other about the legacy they carry on. A legacy rooted in the love of Queen Emma, who came to know Jesus and believe that her faith called her to bring equality and education to the girls of Hawaii.

Today, we too celebrate the Ascension. Arguably one of the wildest parts of our faith. Jesus, who had died and was resurrected, walked with his friends for forty days, and then, withdrew from them and ascended to heaven. Literally lifted up into the clouds. As a church we are dedicated to science and fact. We pride ourselves on knowledge and understanding. And yet, there is no scientific explanation for the ascension.

A seminary friend sent our class a funny meme this week that said, Ascension Day; when Jesus started working from home.  The Ascension is one of the times in our life as a church that we are called to lean heavily on the mystery of faith. And the truth is, that HOW it happened is much less important than WHY it happened.

When God was walking around with skin on there was a clear point person. Healing, teaching, and community building were all through Christ. A student isn’t going to teach the class when the teacher is still in the room. And, as we will see next week when we celebrate Pentecost, we are sent help in the form of the Spirit but She is universal, within all of us, while Jesus was a single man, in the middle east, teaching radical love.

The ascension matters because we became the legacy. We are the healers and the teachers and the community builders. From the apostles that first began the work to us now, we are the manifestation of God with skin on. The ascension requires us to be the hands and feet of God in the world, living out the teachings of Christ- which we only know because those before us did the same.

I didn’t first know about Jesus through sermons or through the Bible. It was through Aunty Maryalice, who always made sure that every child at church had a part in the Christmas pageant. And by the unknown fairy god-person in my town that sometimes left cash in an envelope on the window of my mom’s car. And how when a person experiencing homelessness started sleeping on the bench outside our little beach church we left baskets of food and blankets instead of an eviction notice.

And I’ve seen the way that you are the legacy of that love-through meals, and phone calls, and Saturday morning altar guild, a well placed joke when the experience is too difficult to bear, and backpacks of food for Agnor-Hurt students. See we, we are the legacy of Christ. In His time on earth, Jesus was always working to bring the marginalized to the center. Jesus was always seeking out more justice, more inclusion, more love.

While it’s tempting to focus on His Star Wars-like exit from earth, the reality of the ascension is that it was when we were left to do the sacred work of loving the world into wholeness. Work that began with Jesus and has been carried on through generations of believers is now left to us. Jesus withdrew, he did not disappear. Jesus made space for the community he planted to grow into a cloud of witnesses who live out the call to love God … love our neighbor … and love ourselves in a million different ways.

See, the kingdom of God that Jesus preached about his whole ministry is impossible unless we show up as His legacy of love.

It is only through us that the resurrection and ascension mean anything. It is only through us that loving God, loving our neighbor, and loving ourselves brings light to the world.  St Teresa of Avila’s prayer reminds us that we are tasked with being Christ’s legacy…

Christ has no body but yours,

No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which He looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are His body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

And as Christ’s living legacy we say, Amen.

Extend An Invitation. May 14, 2023. The Reverend Kathleen M. Sturges

 

Acts 17:22-34

Fear of speaking in public. Back in 2014, The Washington Report reported that that was America's biggest phobia. 25% percent of respondents to a survey about their fears said that they were most afraid of speaking in public. A close second was fear of heights. And third place went to the fear of snakes, bugs, and other animals. But I’ve got another fear that might top the list, especially for those of us who worship in the Episcopal Church, and that would be the fear of evangelizing. My guess is that most of us would rather do almost anything else - maybe even speak in public - before bringing up the topic of our faith with someone else. Bottom line: evangelism carries with it a lot of baggage.

But that doesn’t seem to bother the apostle Paul in our reading from the book of Acts. Standing in front of the Areopagus, which was a meeting place of the governing authorities in the city of Athens, Paul launches into a speech first applauding the Atheneans in their pursuit of faith and then points them to the true god made known in Jesus Christ. 

Likely when we hear that story, though, we tune out or adopt a very passive role as spectator. “Good for Paul,” we might think, and rationalize,  “Of course he’s putting himself out there and preaching the gospel because he’s an apostle - a special person appointed to do that.” We avoid even considering, for the briefest of moments, that perhaps it’s not just Paul who’s called to talk about his faith but we are as well. Because, guess what? We are. Now I don’t know about you, but just thinking about that puts a pit in my stomach. And maybe you’re looking at me and thinking that given I’m a priest I shouldn’t feel that way but I do - for a host of reasons. I don’t want to offend anyone. I don’t want to be rejected. I don’t want to make a relationship feel uncomfortable. There’s a reason that polite conversation dictates that one should avoid discussing both religion and politics and that’s because it’s just too risky.

I get all that and I bet you do too. But even with all of our good reasons that doesn’t change the fact that God wants us - needs us - to let others know about the good news: the good news that everyone is deeply loved. The good news that no one is without hope. The good news that, ultimately, no matter what, all shall be well. Part of loving our neighbor is sharing this news because it has the power to transform lives for the good.

So given all that, perhaps shifting our idea about what evangelism can look like might help. First of all, let me just say, preaching the gospel is not about being obnoxious. It’s not about lecturing someone on the Bible or the creeds or acting like you know it all. Who wants to be around that? And on a practical level, it rarely works. Truth is most people don’t come to faith because they reasoned their way into it. More often it’s a slow and gentle process of awakening that happens through relationships. First, relationships with people which open us the door to a deepening relationship with God. And because that is the case, that means that sharing your faith can look very much like an invitation - in particular, an invitation to come to church. Because it turns out that the number one reason people become a part of a Christian community is not because they like the building or the Sunday school program or even the priest (although I hope you do!). The number one reason people become a part of a worshiping community is simply because someone they knew invited them.

Invitation is powerful. It’s powerful because when we invite someone to church our invitation is really piggy-backing on God’s invitation that is already at work in their life. You’ve probably noticed by now that God never forces herself on anyone. There’s no coercion placed upon us to believe or to trust. But there is always invitation. An invitation that has been stirring in us from our very birth. An invitation to know God and to live God’s life of abundance. All that to say that our invitation, which might go something like, “Would you like to come to church with me?” can be so powerful because what it is doing is giving an audible voice to God’s invitation that is already stirring in a person’s heart.

Imagine with me, if you will, a person that you might invite to church. And then imagine that person has an analog clock face inside them - you know the traditional, old-school clock with moving hands and numbers. Now, if this potential invitee has a clock inside them with both hands pointing to 12, then whatever you say, that person will accept your invitation. You could even say something like, “You won’t like it. And I don’t really like it myself. But would you be interested in coming to church with me?” And if they are at 12:00 they will say, “Yes!” - yes because God’s Spirit has moved them to this place of receptivity. She has been working on this person’s heart and they are 100% ready for an invitation. But if someone’s clock is at 3, then whatever you say, it will be completely rejected. The response may go, “Me? Go to church? Are you crazy?” And if that’s the case then you know that they are at 3:00 in their relationship with God. And say you invited someone who is at 6:00, they might say something like, “I have thought about this, but church is full of hypocrites.” Then again, if you invite someone who asks something concrete like, “What time does the service start?” And you excitedly respond, “Oh there are lots of options, 8am, 9am and 11:15.” To which they reply,  “Well actually I’m busy.” There’s no need to be disappointed, you just know that God’s moved them to the 9:00 position. Then if you talk to someone who's at 11:00, they are so close. So close to accepting, but not quite there yet. “No, I don’t think so,” they might say, “But you can ask me again later.” As we are willing to extend an invitation to various people we will encounter folks at all different places on the clock face. And we see this in the varied responses to Paul’s preaching of the gospel. Some scoffed (3:00-er’s). Others were willing to listen some more (probably some 6:00 and 9:00-er’s mixed in). While others became believers (those were the 12:00-er’s!).

But hear me when I say this - the win, for Paul and for us, is not whether someone accepts our invitation. Whether they accept or not is God’s business. The win is simply in the ask. “Would you like to come to church with me?” That relatively simple invitation is one of the ways that we can do what God calls us to do - to share our faith, to proclaim the good news. The invitation is our part. God takes it from there. And no invitation returns void. God uses each one to bring someone closer, to move them along the clock face until their hearts are ready to say, “Yes!”

So if there is someone who has come to mind…a friend, a family member, an acquaintance. Perhaps it’s because God’s Spirit is prompting you to extend an invitation. “Would you like to come to church with me?” Remember, the win is in the ask. Because God is playing the long game. And in that game it is God who eventually wins us all with love.

Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled. May 7, 2023. The Reverend Kathleen M. Sturges

John 14:1-14

Do not let your hearts be troubled. I’m of two minds when I hear Jesus say that. On the one hand I respond like a dry sponge to water. My heart says, “Yes,” as it longs to soak in those words, let go of whatever troubles it, and settle into God’s rest. But then there’s the other hand…the part that pushes back saying, “Really?” I think, “You’ve got to be kidding me!” How can anyone get through this life without a troubled heart? Beyond the common concerns and worries we might have for ourselves and for those whom we love, how can any person with a heart look at the world with all it’s pain and suffering and not be troubled? And in addition to that I’d like to point out that even Jesus’ heart was troubled - troubled when he saw Mary and others weeping at the death of Lazarus (John 11:33). Troubled when speaking of his coming betrayal (John 13:21). And when anticipating what was to come in the hours before his death, Jesus confesses, “Now my soul is troubled.” 

So what is Jesus talking about when he says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled”? Partly what he seems to be doing is bringing the reality of our hearts and our lives into the light. He’s naming what already is. We have troubled hearts. Jesus knows because he, himself, has experienced it. But along with this Jesus also knows something else. He knows that our lives do not have to be defined by nor limited to what troubles us.

In our reading from the gospel of John, the disciples' hearts are troubled because Jesus has just told them that he’s leaving them. “I am with you only a little longer,” he says a few verses before our reading begins, and “Where I am going you cannot come.” Now we have the gift of hindsight, we know it’s all going to turn out ok, but that’s not the perspective of the disciples. They only know what they know in real time and being told that their friend and teacher is leaving them must have been very hard to hear. They had given up everything to follow him. Their whole world revolved around him. And now he’s saying he’s leaving them? Just like that? Their world was falling apart.

Do you know what that’s like? I certainly hope not, but given life’s twists and turns it’s likely that you do have an inkling. I’ve lived it and I’ve watched others live it as well. Someone we had hoped to spend the rest of our lives with leaves - either by choice or by circumstance. A loved and cherished child has a heartbreaking struggle of a life. The career that everything was invested in fails. A dreaded diagnosis is made. A dream is lost. In so many ways life does not go the way we had hoped and our hearts are troubled.

There’s really no disputing that. That can all be true - and yet that is not all  that is true. Even with troubled hearts Jesus seeks to reassure the distressed disciples that even in their circumstances they know the way forward, the way deeper, the way that is truer - it is the way to the place where he is going. But "Lord,” protests one of the disciples, “we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” To which Jesus responds, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”

Now given that I’m talking about troubled hearts I feel compelled to take a bit of a detour here in regards to Jesus’ words - I am the way and the truth and the life - and how often it is used to do a whole lot of damage in people’s lives. Sadly, in way too many Christian circles, “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” operates as a license to judge, exclude, and condemn God’s beloved people. I know this because I heard the stories and seen the lives. And I feel confident in saying that when Jesus’ words are used - or really abused - like that, it is God’s heart that must be the most troubled of all. Because it’s just wrong - wrong on so many levels. The big gospel message that God so loved the world is good news - not bad news - good news for us all. And all does indeed mean all.

And Jesus’ words here are also good news. That is clear if you take the bible seriously and pay attention to the context. For I am the way, and the truth, and the life is not prompted by the question, “Hey, Jesus, tell me, is everyone going to heaven?” or “What’s going to happen to Muslims or Jews or other world religions?” No. The context is that the disciples are afraid, confused, lost. Their friend is leaving them and the only question that is burning in their troubled hearts is where are you going Jesus? And how can we know the way? Jesus' response is meant to be a reassurance that the disciples are not being abandoned. I am the way. I am the truth. I am the life. These words are not a threat. They are a comfort. Jesus is insisting here that fear and worry, the sense of abandonment and any other troubling feelings of the heart are not the final word. They are not the last chapter in our story. Because even though Jesus will no longer dwell in the disciples’ physical presence he will still be with them - but in a different and even richer way.

That is because he is not leaving them to go to another local - a place where you can point to on a map. Rather by sacrificing himself for the sake of his friends and giving up his life for the world, where Jesus is going is into a deeper reality, into the depths of love. And it is in that way, that truth, that life where he will be found.

 We know this because, again, context is important. Right after Jesus drops the bomb that he is leaving he offers the disciples this, a new commandment, that they love one another. That is the way. Because it turns out that as we act in love and go deeper into love that is where and how we will know and experience Jesus. He will dwell in you and you in him. Just like it is with God the Father as Jesus says, “I am in the Father and the Father is in me.” Through love we are being invited into a dynamic, mystical way of dwelling with the divine that brings healing, wholeness, and life.

So if your heart is troubled today know Jesus’ words are especially for you, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Like the disciples we only know what we know. We don’t have any perspective but what we experience in real time. Even so, Jesus knows that whatever troubles you is not the final word. And you experience the truth of this if you are willing to enter into God’s invitation to love. Find a way to love today. Give of yourself for the sake of another. For in doing so you will become even more rooted and grounded in the source of all love. Christ Jesus will dwell in you and you in him. Now does that mean that your heart will no longer be troubled? Maybe, maybe not. There’s no guarantee. But what is guaranteed is that our hearts and the hearts of all whom we love will always be held secure in the love of God. And, ultimately, it is in that divine love that troubled hearts will find their rest.

 

What You Give Is What You Get. April 30, 2023. The Rev. David M. Stoddart

 Acts 2:42-47

I’m sure most of you are familiar with this feature on Apple phones: there’s probably something

similar on Android phones. When you right swipe the home screen, you see the date, your next

calendar commitment, how charged your battery is, top news stories, and a photo. Like many of

you, I have hundreds if not thousands of photos on my phone or stored in the Cloud, and every

time I open my phone it shows me one. Often, it’s a picture of my smiling children, sometimes

taken years ago. And I’ll see it, and think, “Oh yeah, that was a great trip,” or “I remember how

much fun that day was.” Since I don’t normally scroll through all my photos, these snapshots

from the past are a gift my smartphone gives me each day.

Unlike smartphones, the lectionary is old technology, but today it also offers us a snapshot from

our past, our past as a church. Our reading from Acts is just a snapshot: it’s a brief look at life in

the early church. And it’s a picture filled with smiles. My favorite part is, they broke bread at

home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God. Glad and generous

hearts. There was great gladness in the early church. They were clearly living in the joy of the

resurrection, and praising God with real delight. And their gladness prompted tremendous

generosity: they shared what they had freely with each other so that no one went in need. And

such gladness and generosity was clearly very attractive. Luke records that in those early days

Christians had the goodwill of all the people: they weren’t judgmental scolds, they were joyful

believers. And so it’s not surprising that day by day the Lord added to their number those who

were being saved.

It’s quite a snapshot. But what’s the key to it? Why all the smiles? Well, the apostles were among

them, performing many signs and wonders, which presumably included healings. That would

certainly have provided moments of awe. But I don’t think that by itself accounts for these glad

hearts. After all, most of these people were like us: they had not witnessed the resurrection or

seen with their own eyes the risen Christ. And human life being human life, they no doubt

experienced their fair share of suffering and pain. And they were certainly not perfect by any

means. And yet we can feel something powerful in this text: the glad and generous hearts shine

through. What really accounts for that?

Well, I think the reading makes that clear at the very beginning: They devoted themselves to the

apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. This was a

worshiping community, and it was as a community that they enjoyed the happiness recorded in

this account. Luke emphasizes this when he writes, Day by day . . . they spent much time

together in the temple. During his earthly ministry Jesus formed a community, and it was only

as a community that his followers knew the joy of the resurrection. In the New Testament, there

is no such thing as an individual Christian or an isolated believer. It is only in community with

others that we can experience the Good News of Jesus in all its fullness and live lives that are

blessed for us and attractive to others.

This is an important message, but it may not be easy for us to hear. Our society tends to prize

individualism. And all of us function as consumers. So it’s natural for us to look at things in a

self-centered and pragmatic way: “What’s in it for me? What will I get out of it?” Those are fair

questions, and sometimes they are necessary questions. But when it comes to life in the church,

they can be an impediment. If each one of us is basically operating as a religious consumer,

wondering, “What am I going to get from going to church?,” and that’s the way we approach

worship or any other church activity, then we will probably miss out. The key to gladness in the

early church is the key to gladness in any church now: it is active participation in the life of the

community, a giving of ourselves to each other.

That goes beyond “What do I get from it?” to include “What will I give to it? How will I invest my

time, my energy, and my gifts in this community?” In my decades of church life, the people with

glad and generous hearts have been the people most involved and engaged. And that shouldn’t

surprise us: Jesus said the measure you give will be the measure you get back (Luke 6:38). It’s

by giving, by actively sharing in a vibrant common life that we will most fully experience the

presence and love of the Risen Christ.

That means that our presence in worship right now is not just about what we may get from it:

just by being here together, we are making it possible for others to get something from it as well.

Coming to church matters: the more people who actually show up, the more ways the Holy Spirit

can move. And beyond worship, there are many ways to come together. We all have different

gifts and different interests; we may help out at the Food Pantry or attend a Bible study; we may

serve on a ministry committee or help make our grounds beautiful. And we all go through

seasons of life: sometimes we may be super involved, and other times we may need to rest and

just worship on Sundays. Sometimes we may only be able to watch the livestream. But the

bottom line is that we need each other. We need each other to realize Christ in our midst.

Parish life is not always easy: I’m painfully aware of how difficult it can be at times. But I am

constantly reminded of how good it is, in ways great and small. This past Wednesday at WAC,

the cooking team I am part of was missing several people, but after dinner, some others joined

in to help us clean up. We joked around and laughed as we washed dishes and put stuff away.

And I thought, as I have thought countless times, “Thank you, God. I’m so glad to be here. I’m so

glad you are here with us.” That would not have happened if I had been alone. And I could give

you a thousand more examples of that. So I thank you for showing up this morning. If you are

new, I thank you for being here. Each one of you matters. And I invite you to participate in our

common life in whatever way the Spirit moves you so that together we may truly live with glad

and generous hearts, praising God who is in our midst.