Letter from Fr. Allen: June 22, 2018

adoration-clipart-chalice.jpg

+JMJ+

Dear friends,

This Sunday the regular progression of Sundays after Trinity is interrupted by the Feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, which takes precedence over the Sunday. In the Gospel we will hear again how John's father, Zechariah, who had lost the power of speech when he expressed his incredulity at the angel Gabriel's announcement that his wife Elizabeth would bear a son (for Elizabeth was "barren, and both were advanced in years"), regains his voice upon naming the child John, as Gabriel had instructed him. 

So, for nine months, Zechariah was silent. It was a punishment, of course, for his unbelief. A punishment, to be sure, but also a gift - at least I would think so. Certainly it would be frustrating not to be able to make yourself understood, your wishes known. But at the same time, that enforced silence must have given opportunity to reflect on the angel's visit, on the miracle (surely a miracle, and at least the great surprise) of his unborn child's conception, the visitation of his kinswoman Mary, bearing her own miracle Child, and then to give thanks, to turn his heart in praise to God, perhaps even to compose in his mind that great hymn of praise which came pouring out of him when his tongue was finally loosed: "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he hath visited and redeemed his people; And hath raised up a mighty salvation for us, in the house of his servant David..."

Zechariah was granted (whether he wanted it or not) the gift of silence. But ordinarily for us, silence is a discipline we must undertake and develop: to let another speak and to attend to his or her words; not to respond to every internet provocation; to really think through a concern; and especially in prayer, not to fill the minutes with words but to be quiet and listen for God's still, small voice.

And of course, with Zechariah, after the silence comes praise. [Here] you may listen to a song my children and I love by Rain for Roots, a band that specializes in Bible story-songs for children (of all ages). It captures the building tension in Zechariah's heart as the day of John's birth approaches, and the wonderful release that comes when, in obedience, he names the child "John."

May God grant us, as he did Zechariah, the twin gifts of silence and song.

God bless you, 
Fr Allen

A Homily Thread on the Parable of the Mustard Seed

Parable of the Mustard Seed etching by Jan Luyken 

Parable of the Mustard Seed etching by Jan Luyken 

Homily thread [on the Parable of the Mustard Seed for the Third Sunday after Trinity]:

It is easy to lose patience, to become frustrated with injustice in the world, frustrated with sin and corruption and ineffectual leadership in the Church, frustrated with the slow-to-the-point-of backing up growth of holiness in our own lives.

It's really easy to be impatient with the impatience of others. We want it all to happen now. But listen to our Lord's parables of the Kingdom. God is doing the building, not us.

Even in the natural world, he takes the tiny, insignificant mustard seed and he turns it into a plant that becomes a home for birds. Our Lord dies, his battered body is planted in the grave, and his body, and with it our frail humanity, is raised to new and eternal life.

And he takes twelve insignificant, often fearful, often doubting men in an insignificant backwater outpost of the Roman empire and builds a Church that fills the whole world, and so many of us have found rest in its shade.

So, patience. We must never look at the world, or at the Church, or at our neighbor, or in the mirror, and lose hope. And no cup of water given in Jesus' Name, no word of encouragement spoken, no act of love, no matter how small, is given in vain.

These are seeds scattered in the Lord's garden, and he will give the increase. He who began this good work, this Kingdom of righteousness, will bring it to completion in the day of Jesus Christ.

And God, as he always has, will use the most unlikely-seeming, the most insignificant-appearing, means to do it: a splash of water, hands laid upon a head and smudge of oil, a bit of bread and a sip of wine; a kind word; a sign held on a sidewalk; a whispered prayer.

He will use even you and me. /Amen.

Letter from Fr. Allen: June 15, 2018

adoration-clipart-chalice.jpg

+JMJ+

Dear friends,

How do we treat things that are precious? With care, of course. I recently read a fascinating (to me, anyway) book with the quirky title, Meetings with Remarkable Manuscripts, by Christopher de Hamel, in which the author takes the reader, as it were, on trips to libraries across Europe and North America where he examines twelve of the most precious medieval manuscripts in existence, and relates those experiences to the reader, telling not only the history and significance of the manuscript (for instance, a Book of Gospels produced in Rome in the 6th century and which is almost certainly the same volume sent by Pope St. Gregory the Great to St. Augustine of Canterbury, the great missionary to England), but also the actual process and more tactile sensations of handling the book - what the manuscript feels like, what it smells like, and so on. 

But of course these are rare, fragile books and may only be viewed under careful conditions. So de Hamel describes his encounter with the famous 8th century Book of Kells, Ireland's most precious cultural artifact, which resides in the library of Trinity College, Dublin. The book was brought from its vault to a specially secured room. A humidifier had been brought in earlier in the day to make sure that the atmosphere was at the optimum condition for preservations of the vulnerable parchment. There was a special table, "prepared in advance with foam pads, a digital thermometer, and white gloves." But even the white gloves were not for de Hamel, who was to keep his hands to himself. Instead, the library's chief keeper of manuscripts carefully turned the pages "with the extreme tips of his fingers, usually from top and bottom simultaneously."

I know that medieval manuscripts are not likely so fascinating to you as to me. But what should be common to us all is the careful, thoughtful handling of a rare and precious things. No doubt we all have our own personal objects which we treat with comparable care: children may look, perhaps, but certainly not touch.

And if we are so about an object, a thing, how much more so must we be careful in handling, in touching, a person - not just with thought and care but also with, if I can put it this way, "charity aforethought." I thought of this last Sunday as I held little Westy Miller and conferred upon him the sacrament of Baptism - what a gift to hold in my arms this little child, so tiny, so vulnerable, but willed and intended and redeemed by God, infinitely precious.

All of which is to say each time we make our Holy Communion, we are receiving not just something, but Someone, our Divine Redeemer, and so it is important that we do so with thought, with care, with love.

Below you will see a short video which is helpful for thinking about this - not only in what the Church requires, but also how those objective requirements serve and enhance our own devotion in faithfully receiving our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. So watch, and then at Mass "taste and see that the Lord is good."

God bless you, 
Fr Allen

P.S.  Several of you have asked about the decision of the Supreme Court of the United States not to hear the appeal in the dispute within (between?) the local Episcopal/Anglican diocese(s). I will indeed have a little something to say about that soon, but for now, please do pray for these brothers and sisters and Christ, for many of whom this is a very painful and uncertain time, and let us resolve again to be a community always of joyful and peaceful Catholics, whose life together is a sign of the unity Christ desires for his Church.

“How to Receive the Eucharist” from the Archdiocese of Portland, Oregon

Letter from Fr. Allen: June 7, 2018

adoration-clipart-chalice.jpg

+JMJ+

Dear friends,

I read some time ago that when Pope St John Paul made an apostolic journey to his native Poland, a Mass was planned for the parish in which he grew up, in the town of Wadowice. As Mass began, there was some confusion as the people and clergy realized the Pope was not in the procession! It turned out that as everyone moved forward down the aisle, John Paul took a hard left, and was to be seen in the small baptistry, where he knelt, embraced, and kissed the font where he on 20 June 1920 had died with Christ and been raised with him in the waters of Baptism.

This Sunday we will baptize our community's newest and youngest member, Logan West Miller. It will be an opportunity for all of us, even as we rejoice for Westy, to recall our own baptisms, and, as we are sprinkled with the baptismal water and the Asperges me is chanted, to give thanks (even if we may not embrace and kiss the fonts in which we were reborn) for the union with Christ effected there, and for the "glorious freedom of the children of God" which is ours.

I thank all of you who attended last Saturday's parish meeting. You will be hearing more soon about our discussions that day, and especially about next steps and opportunities to lend a hand as we move forward together in faith.

And thanks also for the lovely reception and your many generous gifts on the occasion of my fiftieth(!?) birthday! It was very much appreciated, and your friendship will help me ward off the ever-encroaching senescence and decrepitude!

See you Sunday, and God bless you, 
Fr Allen

Pope Saint John Paul II at his baptismal font image via @ChurchinPoland

Pope Saint John Paul II at his baptismal font 

image via @ChurchinPoland

Letter from Fr. Allen: June 1, 2018

adoration-clipart-chalice.jpg

+JMJ+

Dear friends,

As you know - I hope! - this Sunday is our "Feast of Title," the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, more commonly known as "Corpus Christi." Further, it will be the fifth anniversary of our community's foundation. It was on this great feast when our original band of pilgrims was received into the full communion of the Catholic Church at the hands of Monsignor Jeffrey Steenson, our first ordinary. 

As I recall that day five years ago, I recall that I had some ideas, even some confident ideas, about how things would unfold for our community from there. I was wrong in every respect! Just last week at Mass we heard St James warn us against being too certain in our future plans: "Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and get gain'; whereas you do not know about tomorrow. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we shall live and we shall do this or that' (James 4.12-15).

Well, God's plans are better than ours! His plans are for our sanctification, for our maturity, for our salvation. And while we may not know God's plans, we may be sure that he does. As he said by his prophet Jeremiah to Israel in their exile: "For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope" (Jer 29.11,12). 

None of that means that we are to be passive or not to make plans. Not at all. Rather, it frees us to be faithful and bold, knowing that God cares for us, watches over us, and will lead us finally home to himself. This Saturday's parish meeting is precisely about being faithful and bold as we speak and pray together about next steps for our community and even make practical, concrete plans so that we may grow and this project to preserve and nourish the Anglican patrimony in the Catholic Church may be a means for many to discover the peace and joy of the Church's full communion. So please come! And if you cannot come, please pray!

And on Sunday afternoon, do not miss the Choral Evensong and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament in celebration of our Fifth Anniversary! We will have a wonderful choir and the sacred music will be "Spoleto-worthy." A festive reception in the courtyard will follow. This will be the last of our monthly evensongs until September, so if you haven't yet attended, this your chance. Do come - and invite your friends!

See you Sunday, and God bless you, 
Fr Allen