Holy Ground

Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

Holy Ground. That sounds wonderful right now. A place so safe you don't even have to wear sandals. just bare feet and open hearts in front of the divine.

Certainly we all have places that we consider Holy Ground. Iona. Claggett. Taize. Thin places where we suddenly feel closer to God. There are other kinds of hallowed ground, of course. Camden Yards, The Big House in Michigan, Wembley, Wimbledon. Closer to home you might think of Faidley's, The Jones Falls, or even Chaps Pit Beef as 'hallowed ground.'

Perhaps one of the reasons we have so many examples of hallowed ground is that we are desperate in this day and age for that connection to the divine. But the mistake that we make is (as so often happens) not reading to the end of passage.

Because after God is done talking to Moses, this Holy Ground reverts to being just... ground. What makes any ground holy is the presence of God, and if we are to believe the Gospels, the most reliable way to achieve the presence of God is... to gather together.

In the Church, there is a strain of sacramental and liturgical theology that says places (and items) are sanctified by their use.

When Memorial is a Church. When the altar is set and the candles are lit and the community is present and prayers and voices are lifted... then God is truly present.

Many of you have felt such moments, and many hope to do so again or for the first time.

But when the candles are extinguished and the linens are put away and the hymnals set back in their chairs it becomes, like so many other spaces, an empty building. Memorial is indeed sanctified by its use and it has been out of use for some time.

This is why you all elected to renovate the sanctuary so we could put the space into 'use' more often, and why we freely open our doors to the community in many, different ways. It is also why many of us have felt rather bereft of that spiritual connection, because this sanctified space has been in such disuse.

Now. We have learned (and re-learned) some important things about God's presence. First we have been reminded that we count among this body both the living and the dead, and when even one of us is gathered in the sanctuary we are still surrounded by the great cloud of witnesses that came before us.

Second, we have experienced first hand that just as God can make Godself present in a mideast desert, God can be present in a zoom room or any other metaphysical space. This has been welcome good news for all of us, especially in the darkest days of the pandemic.

What does this all mean for Memorial and our little patch of sacred ground going forward? I think it means that first and foremost we should be intentional about how we gather, pray, work and serve in this place. That we gather with a renewed vigor to worship and serve the Lord in all of God's goodness.

AND that because we now know the sacredness and the holiness does not come from the stones and brick, but from God's presence - we also seek to take that presence out to the broader community.

So that, wherever we are standing might be Holy Ground, if only for a moment (Though I recommend that you keep your shoes on).

Lenten Reflection 2

Genesis 15:18—On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the Euphrates.”

Prayers of the People, Holy Eucharist I—Open, O Lord, the eyes of all people to behold thy gracious hand in all thy works, that, rejoicing in thy whole creation, they may honor thee with their substance, and be faithful stewards of thy bounty.

Prayers of the People, Form IV—Give us all a reverence for the earth as your own creation, that we may use its resources rightly in the service of others and to your honor and glory.

Honestly, I don’t like the word Ownership, I prefer Steward, because my sisters and brothers that is our calling.

We must always remember that all things, including ourselves, ultimately belong to God and God entrusts us with resources and the responsibility to be good stewards of God’s creation.  A good example of this is the Parable of the Five Talents.  The Parable of the Five Talents (Matthew 25:14-30) is not really talking about money but stewardship and responsibility.  In short, we are not to waste what God has given us.  We should not hide what God has given us.  We are not to do nothing with what God has given us.

Each of us has God-given gifts and the things we have are blessings from God.  We don’t all have the same gifts but whatever we have, God expects these gifts, these blessings to be used wisely.  We have free will to choose.  It is up to each of us to decide how to use these gifts to be lights that shine. 

What will we do with the gifts we’ve been given?  The laundry list is long.  I’m reminded of a quote from Maya Angelou—“Be a rainbow in someone else’s cloud.”  We will help the needy, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, grant forgiveness, love one another, etc.?  Of course we will, because we are willing stewards in God’s kingdom.

I often speak about being a beacon of light to shine in the darkness of those less fortunate than us. We can be good stewards of our time, our talents, our faith, our friendships, and our lives.  We can delight in creation, respect the dignity of all persons, and responsibly use the Earth’s resources.

Most important is to be good stewards of ourselves—our mind, body, and soul.  If we aren’t good stewards of ourselves, then we cannot be good stewards of anyone or anything else.  The Lenten period is a time to reflect on how to be good stewards of ourselves.  Use these forty days for reflection, prayer, and rest.

Author: Deacon Natalie+

Lenten Reflection 1

During this Lenten season, the Memorial community is reflecting on the meaning of place. This week, we are asked to consider the physical space of Memorial Church at 1407 Bolton St and what it means to us.

For me, Memorial was the place that brought me back to church after leaving the Catholic Church in which I grew up - with many years of wandering in between. The prayers, sounds, and smells reminded me of my childhood and were comforting. That was 19 years ago. Since then, I have laughed, cried, hugged, celebrated, and remembered too many times to count in this space - from the choir chairs, the pews, and even the pulpit a time or two. I was involved in turning this space into a theater for 2 weeks out of the year - whether singing, dancing, baking, producing, or directing. Those were opportunities to bring joy in community and create with my kids - especially during troubled times in my life and the life of Baltimore.

I find energy in the peaceful quiet when the church is empty and the loud symphony when it is filled. Though there have been times when I needed distance from those stone walls. And when I was ready to come home, the doors were open and I was filled once again.

So, these last two years as we were forced into the wilderness for much longer than 40 days have been difficult. I am grateful that we were able to redefine church and remain in community from afar, but I have missed the inside of the sanctuary and the gatherings in Farnham Hall. I missed having the option of celebrating worship in our space. I can't lie - I enjoy attending church in my jammies with my coffee in hand and puppies at my feet. While comforting, still not the same sense of comfort I get sitting in the pews (I do miss the pews...) or singing with the choir (I miss that, too).

I was reminded of this a few weeks ago when I attended church in-person for the first time in two years. I could feel the sound of the organ (our new organist, Kenny, is amazing). The service was active again (it feels weird standing on zoom). There were one armed hugs. All the parts of the choir were blended as they should be. I received the eucharist and was fed. In my gratefulness of having our virtual services, I forgot about those moments where I feel the thin spaces and closer to God.

For me, I need that sacred space to gather. A place where I can lay down my burdens. A place of welcome. A space that can be transformed for the good work that needs to be done that day for God's people. A space that continues to evolve to meet the needs for this community and the broader city of Baltimore. A space that serves as an example for my kids for how to care for others and love thy neighbor - all our neighbors. I look forward to seeing you at an upcoming service or event.

- Stacy Wells, Junior Warden, resident of Bolton Hill, and mother of Nate (14) and Mary Anne (13)

Celebrating Spontaneity!

Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Luke 13:32

Today something amazing happened. I had a meeting in Harlem Park and so I drove back past St James Lafayette Square, and Father Meadows was walking across the street. 

So I stopped and hopped out, and he invited me in to chat and to stay for their noon Joint Lenten program. 

And I said yes! 

When is the last time you ran into someone spontaneously and agreed to do something you weren’t planning to do?

For me it was March 3, 2019 when some friends asked if I wanted to meet for dinner. 

So now I’m in a room full of people I don’t know, listening to a preacher colleague and getting ready for a “communal” lunch (still grab and go). 

What joy there is in spontaneity! 

In this weeks gospel, Jesus is admonished by some friendly Pharisees that he should go into hiding because Herod is out to get him. But Jesus says (more or less) I’m sorry we are having too much fun! I don’t know what today or tomorrow will bring but I know I don’t want to stop.

Jesus. Big fan of spontaneity. 

As masks come off and restrictions lesson it will be emotionally and physically challenging for some of you to re-engage with work, church, and life in general.  If you are feeling worried, anxious, or stressed about the prospect - let me encourage you to find the joy in the unexpected.  Celebrate the spontaneity that our continually shifting reality presents and lean in to it.

Now. I know that does not mean everyone reading this loves to meet new people. That is a “me” problem for sure. 

But there are many ways of celebrating Spontaneity. Stop in at the BMA to see the new BMA staff curated exhibition. Pop into your favorite restaurant for a drink or a meal. Find a new store, a new path, a new thing to celebrate. And savor it.  Find a new seat in church, a new favorite hymn, or just enjoy the way the light falls in the sanctuary on a Sunday morning. 

The next few months will be again a season of changes. It is important to find the joy in these changes because like Jesus we don’t quite know when that Third Day is coming, so let’s have fun and find some joy today and tomorrow.

Baptized by Water, Spirit and Stories

Bolton Hill is full of stories sprinkled just beyond our baptismal font in the nave: stories flowing in the fonts of Black neighborhoods. Baptized by water and by Spirit, members of our Memorial community have been on a journey. A journey of paying attention and listening to stories: stories from our neighbors at Eutaw-Marshburn Elementary School. 

As many of you know, Baltimore City Public Schools suddenly announced their intent to close Eutaw-Marshburn last year. For us at Memorial, our baptismal calling was to listen. With consent, members of our church community listened to parents, students, and educators struggling to find answers: answers to what was happening, or why the school was closing. We heard stories of frustration and exhaustion. Stories about the immensity of COVID-19 and the school closure amplifying stress in their school community.

Seeking change with our neighbors, we rallied together outside Baltimore City Public Schools’ headquarters to delay the vote. We prayed with signs, our feet, and with silent listening. Silent listening so that our neighbors’ voices might be amplified. Listening and not expecting our neighbors to relive their stories for our benefit. We listened to stories about after-school programs, food distribution, early childhood education and family support programs at Eutaw-Marshburn. We listened to our neighbors’ stories of love, family, strength, pride, and solidarity. We listened to our neighbors’ stories of fears about children having to cross some of the busiest streets in Baltimore to get to school if Eutaw-Marshburn closes. We joined our neighbors in seeking a two-year delay to the vote. Baltimore City Public Schools granted one year.  

Listening is at the heart of our baptismal calling. In baptism, we recall the story of God's love and justice at work throughout history. Through baptism, we are empowered to bear witness to the grace and power of God moving amidst our neighbors today and their stories. Living into our baptism requires action: listening to stories—Black stories—not speaking over our neighbors’ stories. By listening, we might bear witness to the truths being told, honoring our neighbors’ sharing of their stories with us. By listening with an open heart and mind, we might pursue communities of reconciliation and justice—a stirring of Christ’s passion in Baltimore.

We are unsure of what stories lie ahead for Eutaw-Marshburn. Even so, as a Justice-Focused Jesus-Centered community, we trust that we need to continue listening. Bolton Hill is full of stories sprinkled just beyond our baptismal font in the nave: stories that flow in the fonts of Black neighborhoods. Baptized by water and by Spirit—and by stories—may we continue to center the voices of our neighbors, paying attention and listening to their stories: stories from our neighbors at Eutaw-Marshburn Elementary School.

Masks & Scripture

When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him.

Gosh, even the lectionary gets it. Okay,  maybe the  Israelites weren’t  fearful of a maskless Moses that day, but many of us have had a sense of fear, trepidation, worry, confusion when we have walked into a space and seen people not wearing masks.  It’s been a very long time since we’ve seen each other’s smiles. 

Here in Maryland, the Governor rescinded mask mandates for State buildings and recently the Maryland School Board announced the same for schools. Across the country more localities are doing the same.

Stepping back from the anxiety of seeing people maskless again, this should be good news!  We have been suffering and struggling with the COVID 19 pandemic for two years now, and wearing a variety of masks, face coverings and other types of protection.  Our state is 84% vaccinated with at least one dose.

Many in  this community and our loved ones have contracted COVID 19 and are doing well,  particularly now that vaccines are readily available.  Masks, particularly in crowded places, or if one is ill, may become a more common part of our lives as they are in many parts of Asia. Though sometime in the coming months, the majority of people won’t be wearing them for  the regular comings and goings of life - shopping, parties, school, and church. This is a significant change. 

When one lives through a traumatic experience, like the pandemic has been, , moving out of it can often be just as hard.  It is the reason the Israelites were worried of leaving Egypt, why they wanted to stay in the desert instead of finding the promised land, and why they were fearful when they saw Moses’ face - not because he forgot his KN-95, but because they knew he had heard from God - and that it meant something new for them.  This new stage of the pandemic is new for us. 

Fear not, I am not taking direct messages from God on when we should remove our masks in Church, nor do I expect to.  But, we have been taking our cues from the Mayor of Baltimore and the Bishop of Maryland.  For now, we will continue wearing masks in worship and while singing, but we may soon be at a point when masks will be optional.  

We will, as we always have, listen to the Diocese and Baltimore City’s public health authorities and follow their instructions in order to create a safe environment for us all.  I know that some people will feel more comfortable still masked when the time comes for Memorial to change our current requirements.  Wearing a KN-95 offers protection to the wearer, even if others are unmasked.

When you see friends, neighbors and strangers without  a mask - even if their face is shining like the sun -  it is ok to acknowledge that this is different, and that it could elicit feelings of fear . Have faith that we are moving past this one challenge, and hopeful for what the future holds.

Tri-Church Lenten Program

Ash Wednesday Bolton Hill Tri- Church Service

The Feast of Absalom Jones

Isaiah 42:5-9

Thus says God, the Lord,

who created the heavens and stretched them out,

who spread out the earth and what comes from it,

who gives breath to the people upon it

and spirit to those who walk in it:

This past week the church commemorated the Feast of Absalom Jones - the first black man ordained in the Episcopal Church.  Jones, along with Richard Allen (the Founder of the AME Church), were both Methodists when they felt called to start a black church for black people. The Methodists would not allow it, so Jones became Episcopalian and founded St. Thomas Church in Philadelphia.  

He must have been a patient man, because the church was founded in 1794 and he was ordained deacon in 1795.  However, he was not ordained a priest until seven years later.  

Many ordinands remained deacons longer than our current practice of six months to a year, but there were certainly other factors at play in Rev. Jones’ case.  

I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness,

I have taken you by the hand and kept you;

I have given you as a covenant to the people,

a light to the nations,

Certainly, St. Thomas and Absalom Jones himself still struggled for full acceptance into the Episcopal Church.   But they still kept doing the work of the Gospel.  During the yellow fever epidemic of the late 1790s, when white clergymen and congregations were fleeing the city to keep themselves healthy, Jones and his congregation went out and cared for the sick, white and black alike. 

to open the eyes that are blind,

to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,

from the prison those who sit in darkness.

I am the Lord, that is my name;

my glory I give to no other,

nor my praise to idols.

Jones and other were also active politically, including lobbying congress to revoke the fugitive slave act and to put higher penalties on kidnappers who would kidnap free blacks and attempt to sell them into slavery. 

See, the former things have come to pass,

and new things I now declare;

before they spring forth,

I tell you of them.

Despite growing up in the Episcopal Church, I had never heard of Absalom Jones until I was in Seminary.  When did you first hear his name?  How many other Black voices from within the Church are we still unaware of because of our own internal biases and blinders? 

The Vestry Retreat

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the…

This weekend, your vestry will gather for the first part of a two part virtual retreat.  Our retreat leader is The Reverend Alissa Newton (bio here), the program director for the College of Congregational Development.  

The twelve, well fourteen, of us will gather in a virtual upper room and bring our fears, worries and trepidations as well as our hopes, dreams and joys to the table.  Alissa will help us construct an understanding of what it means to be a vestry, and what it means to lead a Church like Memorial coming out of a pandemic.  This is really important! Because we have a large turnover in vestry members, and quite a few who are new to this kind of church leadership. I invite your prayers for all of us this weekend as we begin this journey.  For Bill, Stacy, John, Shannon, Wendy, Keenan, Alice, Sarah, Katie, Steve, Beth, Ryan, Paul and myself.  

Following this weekend, don’t be surprised if a vestry member reaches out to you! 

Alissa is giving us all homework to do between the two sessions, to ensure that all of you are also able to share in this work and this journey.  

The Gospel verse above comes from the passion narrative in John, and is understood to be one of the most anti-Semitic verses in the text.  There is a lot of discussion as to whether it should be edited, changed, or removed all together.   I won’t opine on that here - but I will say that if we leave out the final word (Jews) and allow that blank space to fill in all of the fears that keep us from truly living into our own calling, to take risks, to follow Jesus - then we get pretty close to how the disciples were feeling.  

It was and is a sad and symbolic example of how one class of people stood in then and now for all that is foreign, different and scary - how the Church has many times over sought to put the blame on Jesus’ death on the Jewish people rather than understand it was us and our fears that allowed Jesus to die on that cross.  What is sadder is how that kind of fear based living, continues to motivate so much hate and hurt in the world today.  

Because we seek to be a community of Love, we will take our fears with us on retreat - so that we can name them, claim them, and avoid ourselves falling into those familiar traps of ignorance, indifference and hurt.  Perhaps you have fears, concerns and worries that have from time to time mutated into hate and division?  If so, perhaps you can invite Jesus to the table to walk trough them.  

After all - he showed up in that upper room when the door was locked, he certainly can show up for you too.