Monday - Thursday, 9 a.m. - 3 p.m.

The church is open to all. Come in, sit, rest, and pray.

Sunday

7:30 a.m. – Holy Eucharist, Rite I (In-person only)

9:15 Rector's Forum discussion group in Library

10:30 a.m. – Holy Eucharist, Rite II (both in-person and online via FB & YouTube)

Tuesday

7:30 a.m. – Holy Eucharist (In-person only) in Chapel

8:30 a.m. - Lectio Divinia Bible Study in Library

Wednesday

11:30 a.m. - Contemplative Prayer Group in Library

Thursday

12:05 p.m. – Healing Eucharist, Rite II (In-person only) in Chapel

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Chopping and Gouging (and Walking in Love) – a message from the rector

I like zombies, but only if they’re PG-13. Anything scarier than that and I must turn the channel to Disney. I’m currently bingeing all 11 series of The Walking Dead on Netflix (apparently, over 5,500 zombies get their brains bashed in over the entire catalog of shows. I’m only up to a few hundred so far.) But when the gore gets too much, and when the horror creeps from ‘humorous’ to ‘genuinely scary’, I’m outta there.

Despite this, I managed to make it through the Gospel lesson on Sunday without fainting. That is positive, because the preacher fainting is never a good look. If you weren’t in church on Sunday you might not know that the Gospel lesson was the part of Mark 9 when Jesus instructs his followers to chop off limbs and gouge out eyes if they offend you.

Sunday was also the start of this year’s stewardship campaign, ‘Walk in Love’. Here’s a part of my sermon that tries to bring these two things together – Jesus’ command that we chop and gouge, and the message of managing God’s things.

When life gets too complicated, too full, too demanding, we lose sight of who we truly are, when all else is stripped away. I have a job but I’m not my career. I have relationships but I’m not the people I love. I have a home, a car, and material things, but I’m not my stuff. I have a diploma on my wall, but I’m not my education. I am free of serious medical conditions, but I’m not my health. I have a large suitcase filled with beliefs, ideas, and inklings, but I’m not my thoughts. I have a salary and some savings, but I’m not my money.

When I define myself by any of these things I open myself to disappointment. Some of these things will be gone in ten years, all of them will in 40. But when I define myself as God’s beloved child I will have the security to chop and gouge.

Today marks the beginning of our annual stewardship campaign. This year we’re calling it “Walk in Love.” And there is one thing I want you to know. I have to tell you this. Please listen. You must cling on to this truth. Here it is: You are God’s beloved child. On this truth you must build your life. This, and only this, will give you a solid identity that will not let you down. Only if you have faith that you are God’s beloved will you have the courage to chop and gouge.

Church is not about money. We don’t take a collection for God. Instead we celebrate his goodness and we join him in his mission. But today we must ask one question: What does the call to pluck out eyes and chop off limbs mean for managing God’s property? Does it cost us financially to be Christians? Yes. It hurts to give sacrificially to God’s work. It is painful to give realistically and in proportion to our income. Turns out there really are two kinds of people in the world – those who are willing to take the pain for a higher purpose, and those who aren’t.

But the result of chopping limbs is health. Don’t believe me? Ask a fruit tree. When a tree is left to grow wild it produces small fruit. All the energy of the tree goes into growing unwieldy branches. When the fruit farmer manages her orchard she prunes, sometimes ruthlessly, even savagely. The goodness of the soil goes into producing sweet and beautiful fruit instead of unproductive branches.

And so for us, the kind of surgery Jesus calls us to hurts. We don’t want to chop and gouge, but we know that the result is health. The outcome is a harvest of beautiful fruit. May God give us the courage to wield the knife.