Author: Church of the Nativity

Saturday, December 21, will mark the winter solstice. Either the longest night of the year, or the shortest day, depending upon your perspective. We can bemoan the fact that it is dark at 5:30pm right now in Raleigh, or we remember that the longest night means that on December 22, we move in the other direction. Minute by minute, the sun remains in our sky. Both perspectives are true, and both can be comforting in their own way.

Darkness and waiting for the light are frequent themes and images in the prayers and Scripture readings of Advent. The Advent blessing from the Book of Occasional Services is: “May the Sun of Righteousness shine upon you and scatter the darkness before your path…” I love the idea of Jesus coming to scatter the darkness in front of me. It sounds so clear, so easy. No more darkness in my path means direction, purpose, meaning, clarity.

I long for clarity, but it seems like I spend most of my time in the dark. Maybe this is why I love Advent. I may find clarity comforting, but my experience of life tells me that clarity is actually pretty rare. Usually, I am stumbling around in the dark, feeling my way through, stubbing my toe painfully from time to time, until I reach a moment of light.

Maybe what is called for is making friends with the dark? Maybe Advent isn’t just waiting patiently and enduring the darkness, but welcoming darkness, uncertainty, and even doubt? If the dark and I can be friends, maybe in the darkness God is creating something new in me, waiting to be birthed, waiting for the right moment, waiting for God’s time.

This Sunday, we hear the story of the Nativity from Joseph’s perspective. Joseph is a righteous man, planning to quietly break things off with Mary when he learns she is pregnant, but then receives a visit from an angel in a dream. The angel gives Joseph instructions, but not a lot of clarity. The angel explains that the child is going to be named Jesus and is to be the savior of his people, but no further information as to the whys or the hows that is to be. Joseph receives his instruction in the dark, and remains in the dark about his son’s future. In fact, Joseph’s next set of instructions come once again, in the dark, by a dream, when the angel tells him of Herod’s plan to kill Jesus, and urges Joseph to take his family to Egypt where they will be safe. There is no return date on the ticket, so Joseph receives, once again, another dream, in the darkness, when it is safe to return to Nazareth.

All this is to say, if you feel like you are stumbling along in the dark right now, searching for clarity or purpose, you are in good company. May you make friends with the darkness this Advent. May it be a time of quiet rebirth for your soul and for the next right thing God is asking of you.

This Sunday is the third Sunday of Advent. Over half of Advent is over, and we are quickly coming upon Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

What were your hopes and dreams for this Advent season? Was there a practice you wanted to try? Did you stick with the tried and true of the lighting of the Advent wreath, or opening the windows of an Advent calendar?

I confess to you that with the multiple funeral services in the past two weeks, my Advent practices have fallen to the wayside. Truthfully, they never even started. My poor children never got an Advent calendar. Our Advent wreath is still packed away with the Christmas decorations. My dining room table still has my very limited Thanksgiving decor on it.

Some of you reading this are horrified on my behalf, I’m sure. Maybe not so much about the Advent things, but certainly over the idea that we don’t have a single Christmas light hung, or the tree up, or decorations at least unpacked! Perhaps there are others of you reading this sighing in relief and solidarity. Or perhaps you’re only half-way there: some good intentions for Advent that fell along the wayside, the Christmas decorations almost but not quite complete, more things left undone than done.

“Fear not!” says the angel. In the words of the ’80’s poets from New Jersey, we are “halfway there, whoa-oh, livin’ on a prayer.”

What I will remember from this Advent season is not how unsuccessful my Advent practices were, or the limited time I had to enjoy my holiday decorations. I will remember this Advent season as a time when I was sad, and it was okay to be sad because I was not alone. I will remember this Advent as a time when we as a church community deepened our connections with one another as we were sad together. I will cherish it as a time when I saw the community reach out to one another, and when asked, the community showed up, with prayer, with music, with casseroles and brownies, with joy and sadness held tightly together.

The remainder of this Advent, may you feel the prayers of our community around you. If you are feeling disconnected from community, I encourage you and welcome you to recommit, reach out, and re-engage once again. May you continue to pray for your fellow Nativity members, and may you rest in the knowledge that they are praying for you. Keep living in those prayers.

The song on my car radio proclaims, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year!” In my experience, it is not. Yes, the holidays and days leading up to Christmas can be fun – there are many events, programs, gifts, and parties to attend. It is also a stressful time to figure out how to plan for all the events, programs, parties, gifts, etc. This season of Advent is also a time when we particularly miss those who are no longer in this world with us; when we long to see those friends and families who are dear, but we see no longer.

If you are feeling a little blue this Advent, you are not alone. The following is a section of the homily I preached for Derek Bodford’s burial service. A number of folks have asked for a copy of it, so maybe you will find it helpful as well. Perhaps this Advent you need to invite grief in for a little while before we move to the joy of Christmas.

In her book, Big Magic, which is about the creative process and writing in particular, Elizabeth Gilbert talks about coming to terms with her fear that emerges when she writes. She writes about how over the years she has learned that pretending fear isn’t there when she sits down to put words on the page doesn’t work. So now she has a little conversation with fear before she starts to write. She tells fear very plainly that fear is welcome to sit in the back seat and come along but is not allowed to drive. And in no circumstances is fear allowed to play with the radio. But yet fear is allowed to be present, isn’t pushed away, and isn’t ignored.

I think that something similar can be said about grief, especially grief that is sudden and unexpected. Much as we are loath to do it, at times like this we might consider inviting grief in. It might be too much to ask to welcome grief, but at least consider opening the door, welcoming grief to sit down for a while, allowing her to be present.

See, grief is going to show up whether we invite her in or not. And if we don’t open the door, grief will find a way to slowly slither up through the gap between the door and floor, to snake her way through the drafty cracks in the windowsill, hide behind the knickknacks, and while your back is turned, grief will take over the room, and bring her friends, shame and regret, along for the ride.

But I believe that when we open the door to grief, right behind is our friend Jesus, who doesn’t just tag along, but enters fully in his own right, bringing with him his comfort, his freedom, and his peace.

Grief is going to rearrange the furniture, whether you invite her in or not. But while the room is being reimagined, Jesus is there too, to remind regret and shame that they can move an ottoman or a figurine, but then they need to go.

Anger might show up too, hiding in the corner, sometimes pretending to be something else. So we can let anger come in as well and we can let anger kick some things around a bit because Jesus isn’t going to let anger burn the house down, so we need not be afraid of anger.

Jesus helps us to look at the room after grief is finished and says, okay, it’s not what we wanted, but we can work with this. Grief is going to rearrange the furniture, but before she gets too Joanna Gaines on us, Jesus stations comfort, freedom, and peace around the room, before she can start knocking down walls and putting up unnecessary clocks everywhere. The comfort, freedom, and peace of Jesus allows grief to do her work, and then to fade a bit.

Grief doesn’t ever leave completely, but eventually, with Jesus’ help, we can allow grief to be tucked away, rather like that old crystal vase that belonged to your grandmother – a little heavy, a little clunky, but yet, necessary to pull out from time to time, not too long, but to fill with beautiful flowers on occasion, to remind us that grief leads to new life, a new way of being. The burial preface in the Prayer Book says, “for to your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended…”

This Advent, may you feel the comfort, freedom, and peace of Jesus.

Friends, I am writing this as we prepare as a community for several important events. Many are spending time with friends and family, enjoying a satisfying meal, and giving thanks for the many blessings of this life.

Beginning on Saturday, we will start the process of saying good-bye to three members of this parish who have enriched and enlivened our community in different ways. There are not enough words to say thank you to all of you who have stepped up to help with the preparation of these liturgies, the care of the families involved, and the offerings of food, labor, and time given. It is a remarkable testimony of the strength of this community to see people coming together and offering their support to the families at such a sad time.

In the midst of all this, the season of Advent begins on December 1, and so I would ask you to stop and take some time to reflect upon your expectation of Advent this year.

Let us not rush on in to the joy of Christmas. These past few weeks have reminded me that first we must walk through our grief, our anger, our sadness at the way the world is, in order to feel hope and expectant joy for the kingdom that we hope is to come.

In other words, this Advent, take some time to ask yourself: what matters most to you right now, and does your life reflect that?

It is estimated that an adult makes an average of 35,000 somewhat conscious decisions a day. That is a lot of choices. That is a whole lot of energy. Choices can be liberating, or choices can be overwhelming.

Being a disciple of Jesus means you have the choice to live your life asking what matters most, and making choices so your life reflects the hope and promise of the love of God. What matters most is the life we have been given, the new life that is promised to us through resurrection, and the relationships and community we cultivate to share Jesus’ love with others.

Advent allows us to experience the gap between the world as it is, and the promise of the new life of God’s kingdom to come. It is a promise of a world with no more pain, no more sorrows, where swords are beaten into ploughs, and the world is at peace.

What matters most?

Stephanie Sumner
A lifelong North Carolinian, twenty-five year resident of Raleigh and seven-year member of Nativity, Stephanie is looking forward to joining the Vestry and serving this wonderful congregation. In her professional life, she leads sales and marketing for advertising agencies. Currently she is part of the leadership team at VisionPoint Marketing, an agency dedicated to higher education, working with universities and colleges across the country. In her personal life, her world revolves around her husband Neal, 15-year-old daughter Berkeley and 19-year-old son Keaton. She has been a Sunday School teacher for the past several years and enjoys giving our younger members a safe and welcoming place to be themselves and explore their faith.

John Oldham
The Oldham family moved from NYC to join Nativity in 1999. Church of the Nativity answered their quest for an open and welcoming faith community with a strong youth program. His daughters Sarah, Kate, and Jane all went through the youth programs, served as acolytes, and were confirmed here. They are now launched, employed and living in NYC (Sarah), Raleigh (Kate) and Durham (Jane). John has taught Sunday School and participated in Habitat for Humanity builds and Buildings and Grounds work days. He currently serves as chair of the Finance team. John and his wife Sue enjoy traveling, hiking and bike riding, cooking and exploring all that our area has to offer. He looks forward to joining the Vestry and applying his business and volunteer experience toward the goals of this dynamic church community.

Josh Booth
Josh grew up on a farm in the foothills of NC, and moved to NYC to study creative writing at Columbia University. After years on the road, he discovered that Grace beats Karma, and came back home to start a family. He now raises two miraculous daughters and writes poetry about God.

Kim Stoke
Kim is originally from NJ and has been in Raleigh for a few years.  She was confirmed in the Episcopal church and previously served on the Vestry of All Saints Episcopal Church in Hoboken NJ. She is a single mother of two daughters Fay, age 13 and Claire, age 10.   When Kim is not working , she enjoys watching tv and movies, baking, and spending time with friends and family.

This coming Sunday we will celebrate the Feast of All Saints. In the history of the church, this has been a three-day celebration, beginning with All Hallows Eve, now Halloween, on October 31, All Saints Day on November 1, and then All Souls Day on November 2. Lately in the church, we have collapsed the three somewhat, remembering during our worship on Sunday morning (All Souls) all those who have died and celebrating new life that joins us to the Saints through the celebration of Baptisms (All Saints).

Halloween has become a cultural celebration, not just for children, of costumes and sweet treats, and fun. All Hallows Eve traditionally was a time to remember our ancestors and to chase away any hovering evil spirits. Halloween now seems to be a time for us adults to pretend to be something other than who we are, just for one night. We can indulge in treats that we would ordinarily deny ourselves and let loose from our normal day-to-day. In choosing a costume, we can pretend to be more than what we usually allow ourselves – a little more scary, a little more bold, a little more sexy.

I wonder what would happen if we brought that longing to church. How does God free us so that we feel worthy of the indulgence of treats beyond one night? How might we carry the generosity of sharing something sweet with the next person who knocks on our door? How else could we share the hospitality of a party or gathering and bring our true selves, not just the ones with the acceptable masks we share with the world? Can we trust our community to see us, warts and all?

The thing is, God sees us. God sees our hidden longings; God sees our desires, our deepest wishes, our ugliest thoughts. And God loves us through them all. With God’s help, may we carry the spirit of All Hallows Eve, All Saints Day, and All Souls Day with us beyond those three nights. May we remember those who came before us, may we remember the saints who show us how to be brave disciples, and may we be a little bolder in our faith, less afraid to share God’s love, and more emboldened in our generosity.

Speaking of generosity, our 2020 pledge campaign, Made for Mission, Created for Connection has begun. Thus far, we have received approximately $23,000 in pledges. Visit our Giving page to make your pledge today. We thank you for you generosity, and hope your Halloween and All Saints celebrations include lots of sweet treats!

(tl;dr: Nativity is doing a lot of cool stuff inside the church and in our community. We’d like to keep doing it. Plus, pledging your financial support is an important spiritual practice. And yes, Episcopalians tithe. Make your pledge here.)

Our annual stewardship campaign to raise money for our mission and ministries in 2020 begins on Sunday. I believe two of Nativity’s greatest strengths are its commitment to mission outside the church doors and the deep connections fostered within the worshiping community.

Made for Mission

A Heart for Service

Whether it is wielding a hammer for Habitat for Humanity, wearing a hair-net while packing food for Rise Against Hunger, bringing donations the first Sunday of the month for Leesville Backpack Buddies program, our youth participating in mission and outreach on trips, children and families participating in outreach projects, or fiber artists in Chatty Yarns making hats, mittens, and gloves for those in need, helping others is not a extra-curricular program for Nativity – it is a way of life.

Mission Partnerships

Nativity actively seeks partnership and collaboration with other organizations in our community to make the world a better place. We are proud of our mission partnerships with our community including Habitat for Humanity, the Kinder Garden outdoor pre-school, the North Carolina Chamber Music Institute, Leesville Elementary Backpack Buddies program, and Windsor Springs Retirement home.

Leading the Church

Nativity is known throughout the wider Episcopal Church and other denominations for our commitment to creation care and environmental stewardship. We witness through zerowastechurch.org, invitations to speak at other churches, and our leadership in the Diocese of North Carolina. Through our annual diocesan contribution, Nativity contributes to the larger life of the Diocese, helping to fund staffing and programs and assisting other congregations. We mentor numerous interns and have been invited to help with an exciting new venture to train new clergy.

Created for Connection

Replenishing Our Souls

In order for us to set our mission outward, we return to the worshiping community to refresh our souls. Through lively worship on Sunday mornings, weekly spiritual formation for all ages, and active support of each other during times of crisis, Nativity provides a space for members to replenish ourselves so that we may do the work we have been called to do.

Strong Financial Foundation

Over the past few years, our financial foundation and our care for our physical plant has grown stronger and stronger. The addition of solar panels, replacement of aging HVAC systems, and a significant payment of over $125,000 to decrease our mortgage when we re-financed are vital signs of financial prudence and care. With this strong foundation, we are able to turn our attention and resources towards creative program and mission opportunities.

Beyond Our Comfort Zone

As we care for one another, we can can create space for challenging conversations. Presiding Bishop Curry and our own Bishop Sam Rodman have issued a challenge for congregations to work actively in “Becoming Beloved Community.” This means having hard conversations to challenge our ideas about race in our country and in our communities. It forces us to reckon with  ideas about power and our impact on marginalized communities. These conversations offer us space to consider “why” outreach and mission are so important to our community. Sacred Ground, a film and reading series about the history of race in the United States and the Episcopal Church, currently has 30 people from Nativity participating in deep and meaningful conversations.

I firmly believe a healthy worshiping community needs both mission and connection. I hope you will join me in your financial support for the coming year. I pray that you reach for connections within our church and are inspired to share God’s love with others outside the church doors.

Over the next few weeks, we will be sharing more about the church’s budget – our income and where the money is spent. We will talk about the large scope of our people resources – members of Nativity given an incredible amount of their time to the church and in service to others. We will talk about tithing, and we will talk about how giving is a spiritual practice. On November 10, we will have some glorious music during worship as we offer those pledges to God in thanksgiving.

To make your pledge online, click here.

 

I had a wonderful time at the parish picnic last Sunday. I was worried about the weather, wondering when and if the rain was going to come. Should we move the picnic to Estill House or should we take our chance on the rain holding off until the afternoon? Sadly, as much as we can predict the weather, the weather will do what the weather will do. The forecast changed almost hourly.

I woke up Sunday morning, and as I was enjoying my coffee and prayer time, the sun rose, and the clouds cleared. Ah! I thought, perhaps my worries were for nothing.

We gathered at the picnic site. Food laid out on the table. So.much.food. We started the worship service. The altar looked beautiful. We were all turned toward the view of the lake. The choir led us in song. We were surrounded by changing leaves and the smell of the fall air. Just as we finished communion and were about to begin the post-communion prayer, there was a flurry of activity – folks moving chairs under the shelter, tents being popped up over the grills. The rain had come after all.

Luckily, our picnic site had a shelter over it. We moved from the Lord’s table to our table of fellowship. Cozily gathered around the picnic tables, going back for seconds and thirds. Sampling as many desserts as possible. The kids ran and played in the rain. And a gentle murmur of agreement – “Glad the rain held off for the service.” “Wow, we really need the rain.”

How often do we assume the worst, to find it works out just fine. The answer for our prayers did not come as we wanted, but what we did get was even better than we imagined. Our carefully laid plans might come to something, or it might come to nothing. Through it all, God is present. God is there in the lake, the trees, the kids playing, the food cooked and shared, the body and blood blessed, taken, eaten.

Thanks be to God for the willing hearts that organized the picnic. Thanks be to God for the willing hands that made it all happen. Thanks be to God for the voices lifted in song. Thanks be to God for the rain that brings refreshment to our little corner of the world. Thanks be to God.