The View from Bolton Street

Dear Parish Family,

I listened to some of the news coverage of former president Jimmy Carter’s funeral while I drove up to the church yesterday. He has always been a hero and a role model of mine because when he lost re-election and felt despondent and rejected by the people, he determined to find another way to do the most good with the rest of his life. I don’t need to recount all of those successes here—you all know how hard he worked to provide peace, shelter, freedom from disease, escape from poverty, and more. You also know that he taught Sunday School as a volunteer until he physically could no longer do so. He knew that compassion and action go together and that this must be taught to each successive generation.

I have often speculated on what it would be like to start a charter school with the foundational charism of chesed, the steadfast and loving kindness of God. Teaching compassion and chesed through stories and dialogue along with the 21st century survival skills we all need is a true call and an urgent need, now more than ever.

Grace and compassion and the drive that motivates someone to do as much good as possible in the “second half of life” as Richard Rohr calls it, is sorely needed, perhaps now more than ever. With a change of national administration more dedicated to tearing institutions down and dividing people over false issues than governing with compassion and an eye to the future, we must not become so discouraged that we become passive. We can all do something. 

We start with our own community. We must be observant. Who is struggling? Who is thriving? If we fall largely into the latter category, how can we elevate the struggling siblings with our love and compassion in action? 

With the fires raging in what used to be my home in Altadena, CA, and the loss of one of my statesman heroes, for just a few minutes yesterday, I felt that darkness and death were winning. As I began to prepare for my Sunday message I read these words from the prophet Isaiah with fresh eyes: 

For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you. Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn. Lift up your eyes and look around; they all gather together, they come to you…   Is. 60:2-4a

Then I remembered, and I hope you will too: ours is a Light that the darkness cannot overcome. We can choose to live into and use that Light for good or we can hide it under a bushel. We can choose who we are until we are welcomed home to eternity, and we have the opportunity to remake that choice with every breath we take. Don’t let the darkness of despair overtake you when there is still work to be done: the work of compassion and chesed in action. 

What does that work look like for Memorial Episcopal Church? I have a vision, and I’ll bet many of you do, too. Please tell me about your vision. We are in the process of developing plans and a budget to fund those plans for 2025. Your vision and your voice are critical as we chart a course forward. You may write to me here: pan@memorialepiscopal.org.

Warmth and love to you all on this chilly day,

Pan+