The Week in Review

On Friday, the kids got to dress-up for Halloween.  Adelaide chose to be Olivia, the pig.  I was proud of her for her originality, and for the fact that she was practically the only girl in her class who was not a princess.  (yawn...)  or some Disney character (yawn, yawn.)  But, then my own son thwarted my hubris because he was the most original Halloween character--Batman.  Oh, well.  The kid who can make a bow and arrow out of a musical instrument wanted to be Batman.  So, we ordered him some underoos and some black gloves and pieced the rest of the get-up together from things we had.  I'm not an artistic mom, but I do like to try and be creative with what we have to make a costume.  They both succeeded in being very content with their choices and their costumes.  And, Josiah was a hot dog in this cute bunting that my friend Carolyn gave me upon hearing I was pregnant.  Very cute.  Too bad Mom and Dad didn't get their acts together to be mustard and ketchup.

My Sweet Potato turns 6 months old

Josiah is still as sweet as any sweet potato.  He  now sleeps beautifully for both naps and nighttime sleep.  During his awake time, he delights in squealing and watching his brother and sister.  He is just sitting up now on his own and is already turning in a circle when placed on his tummy.  He has tried a few foods this week: oatmeal cereal, bananas, applesauce, and bread.  And, of course, sweet potatoes.

In the meantime, the knights, princes, and princesses were doing their fairy things.  So, Jed got in on the act.  Isn't he a delicious princess?  And I think he really looks like his beautiful, princess mommy.  I need a little love. Yesterday one of Elias' classmates asked me if I was his grandmother when I came to pick him up from school.  I guess the highlights didn't do their job.

A tribute to the VTS Chapel by the Rev. Sam Faeth

A Sermon for the 22nd Sunday After Pentecost




On the occasion of the destruction of the Immanuel Chapel by fire.







Text: 2 Timothy 4: 17 - But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles will hear it.







My nomination for the two words I least want to hear over the telephone are “Brace yourself.” And yet, late Friday afternoon, I was grateful for the opportunity to prepare myself for very bad news, as Peter Ackerman reported in shock and horror as the Seminary Chapel burned.



Dear friends, we have suffered a devastating loss. The chapel where this congregation was formed, and in which we have worshipped for seventy years is no more. The Seminary Chapel, where generations of seminarians were shaped through the habits of prayer and formed for ministry, is an empty shell. The Very Reverend Dr. Ian Markham, the Dean of Virginia Theological Seminary is with us this morning. Ian, please know that there is strength in shared sorrow and that this congregation stands with the Seminary community in faith and hope and determination as we resolve to offer the same hospitality to you that you have shared with us for so many decades. We are committed to sharing in the holy endeavor of building a future where mission and ministry might flourish to the honor and glory of God.



There is something disorienting about the destruction of holy space. For this community, and for the Seminary Community, the Immanuel Chapel was one of the places where we made sense of the world, and of our place in it. We have prayed and sung praises to the Lord in the Seminary Chapel. The walls were steeped in our secret sins and sorrows, the wonderings and deepest yearnings of our hearts. We mourned our parents, spouses, siblings and children in the comforting familiarity of that sacred space. We baptized our babies there and clutched damp Kleenex as our teenagers preached their senior sermons. We joined in the audacious adventure of faith, hope and love as we said our wedding vows, or celebrated with brides and grooms. We professed our faith, made our confessions in pews so familiar that we knew where the splinters and nail pops were. We stretched out our hands to receive the Body and Blood of our Savior at the altar rail that was made from wood sent by Bishop Penick – the 19th century missionary bishop to Liberia. Our knees, our arms and even our bottoms rested on the same spaces that generations of lay and ordained leaders have knelt to pray, stood to sing and sat to hear the Word of the Lord. We tolerated the wheezing and clunking of the organ and the persnickety temperament of the heating and air conditioning system – much like we might overlook the eccentricities of a beloved but opinionated relative. For parish and Seminary alike, the Immanuel Chapel was OUR space and we loved it.



On the Sunday after my ordination to the priesthood, I stood behind that Seminary altar and, with awe and reverence and gratitude I celebrated my first Eucharist. Something happened that morning, which was quite remarkable and indeed, has never happened since. As I said the words of consecration over the chalice, I caught a reflection of my face, framed by those familiar words that anchored the Ascension window – Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel. And, the response of my heart, grounded both in my baptismal covenant and in my ordination vows was “I will - God’s help.” It was a personal challenge and a deeply personal response – just as I know that those words have been etched on your own hearts in particular and personal ways.



The window is gone but the challenge remains. WE are the Church. Like our forebears in faith, we know that however magnificent the cathedrals, chapels and churches we erect to the glory of God – that God is most glorified in the love and sacrifice of humble hearts. Somewhere, deep down inside, we know that it isn’t all about the chapel. It is about memories and mission and ministry. We did not lose any of that on Friday afternoon. We must mourn, we must grieve. But in order to duly honor that beloved and friendly space, we must remember that gospel imperative to Go into all the world and share the Good News. We must remember that the One who raised Jesus from the dead is the One who calls us all, day by day, to resurrection life.



One of the emotionally difficult tasks for me in the past two days was calling each of my two grown children, both of whom were already scheduled to celebrate their marriages in the Seminary Chapel in the coming year, and tell them that the space where we had been commissioned for service as a family at my VTS graduation; where they had served as acolytes, preached their senior sermons, buried their grandparents and seen their mother installed as rector, would not be the place where they would make their wedding vows. I reached Chelsea first, whose only question was, “But Mommy, are YOU alright?” When I finally reached Sean, he was shocked but philosophical. “As long as Kristen is there,” he said, “we’ll have a wedding.”



A wise reminder from the perspective of youth. We are alright. We have each other. We have the support and prayers of people, Christian and otherwise, from around the globe. And in the context of the enormous attention paid to this loss, we have an amazing opportunity for ministry.



In the epistle assigned for this morning, we are privy to a farewell address, purportedly from the apostle Paul to his friend and travelling companion, Timothy. In the midst of a report on the various disappointments and dangers that had beset him and his uncertainty about the future, the author offers a word of hope that speaks to our opportunity for ministry in the days and weeks and even years to come. His experience of God’s steadfast love in the midst of trials is our consolation, our encouragement, our double-dog dare to live as if we believe in the gospel promise.



“God has stood by us and given us strength, so that through us the Good News might be fully proclaimed and that everyone might hear it.” (paraphrase of 2Tim. 4:17, to translate into the plural). The God who has stood by us since the dawn of creation will not forsake us now. We are to be given strength to live up to the challenge of reminding the world that the destruction of a sanctuary does not need to constrain the mission and ministry of the Church. As the Letter to the Thessalonians reminds us, “We do not grieve as those who have no hope.” (I Thess 4:13) . It is extremely rare that the attention of the larger community is focused on the health and vitality of particular faith communities. While the world is watching, we have the chance to embody the Good News that no loss falls outside of the redemptive power of God’s transforming love. We can live the promise of Easter in new hope and new opportunities, even as we carry on the enduring realities that we found in the Seminary Chapel. Things will be different. Each of us will be called to live in the midst of temporary brokenness and loss. The contemporary lyricist, Leonard Cohen, speaks eloquently to our circumstance in his song, titled “Anthem.”



The birds they sang at the break of day,



Start again, I heard them say.



Don’t dwell on what has passed away,



or what is yet to be.







Ring the bells that still can ring,



Forget your perfect offering.



There is a crack in everything,



That’s how the light gets in.



(Leonard Cohen, Anthem).







That is how it has always been for the people of God – the light of love leaking in through the cracks of life. OR leaking OUT in the acts of kindness, mercy, service, endurance and hope which are the spiritual bricks and mortar that endure. After I left the Seminary grounds yesterday morning, feeling a bit like I’d just identified the mutilated corpse of a dear friend, I stopped by the Zabriskie campus where I was blessed with a heartening vision of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth, the Church at work in the world. Our Committee for the Stewardship of Creation was sponsoring our third annual electronics recycling day and the paper shredding truck was munching away at our excess paper. The Pumpkin Patch was a sea of orange and, as I kept our cashier company, we couldn’t collect the money fast enough. As you know, every penny of profit from the patch goes to outreach ministries and we seem to be on target to set a new sales record this year!



We have a new opportunity to reach out in mission and ministry, as we say a loving farewell to the Naoum family who will return home to ministry in the Holy Land. Hosam has completed his honors thesis in Canon Law at VTS. Hosam, Rafa, Wadia and Laurisse are eager to return to their family and prepare for the birth of their baby daughter. Hosam’s generosity to us, and his gifts for ministry were an unexpected blessing from God during Peter’s long illness. There has not been a single request that I have made of him in this past year that he hasn’t accepted with grace, enthusiasm and skill. In thanksgiving for the Naoum’s presence among us, we have committed to the ongoing support of a shared ministry of education and scholarship support in the Holy Land. You will hear more from Hosam at a celebratory farewell and forum hour in the Parish Hall this morning.



Seventy years ago, this congregation was named for the chapel that stands no more. Immanuel – God with us. The chapel is gone but the truth abides. It is with the confidence of that promise which has named and shaped us that we can look inside ourselves and in the faces of one another to find the strength and courage to continue our response to Jesus’ own challenge to all who follow him. Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel. We will, indeed, with God’s help. Amen.

Chore Chart

Elias includes Jesus and Winnie-the-Pooh in his daily chores.

When Elias turned five, we established a chore chart. He is supposed to make his bed, brush his teeth, and pick up his toys before he heads off to school. In the evening, he is supposed to set the table and put all his dirty clothes in the hamper. Recently, he has become very good at sorting and organizing the toys and revels in leading the clean-up with his little sister. He is still not the best table setter. We get funny things placed on the table in an unusual order and sometimes he complains that he is too tired to set the table...However, for the most part he has engaged the idea that five year-olds are old enough to do chores and contribute to the family. In fact, the other day, of his own volition, he got a white trash bag and started to empty the trash cans around the house. next thing on my list is to get Addie started on her three year old chore chart. She desperately wants one!

What a long week it has been...

About ten days ago, my mom's beloved dog, Tani, died. A couple days after that, we got news that some dear parishioners had been through a scary and traumatic experience in which the husband almost cut off two of his fingers. Then I got an email telling me that my most important mentor in college was very sick. We were encouraged to write him an emailed letter which would be read to him at a hospital in Philadelphia of all places. I got that done on Monday night only to hear he died on Tuesday back in Waterville, Maine. On Thursday I heard another dear friend's' cat had died, after 15 years. And, finally, the Virginia Theological Seminary's chapel was burned to the ground in a fire on Friday afternoon.

On the one hand, for someone like me, who feels things strongly, I have realized I have been anxious all week. This anxiety comes out in shortness and frustration with those around me and myself. I now realize that when life has to keep moving at a clipped pace because of the needs of people around me, some things don't get tended to in my spiritual/physical/ and emotional life. How can we make space for grief when we have young kids? How do we allow ourselves to be, or feel sad, without burdening them with our own needs? I certainly don't want my children to take on my feelings. Yet, if I don't deal with them, they will take them on somehow in ways are which are not fair to them.

Yesterday, it seemed that the chapel wrapped it all together. That chapel was the place where I prayed almost every day for three years. It was the same place I practiced baptizing a baby doll. It was the same place where I delivered my Senior sermon. It was the place where I went after receiving news that my dear friend, Annabel, had died at 36. I gathered there with two friends and we sat in the front row of the chapel saying the Burial Office for my friend who lived across the ocean. It was that same chapel where I had the chance to worship beside my sweetheart-- now husband. It was that chapel where the wood from the altar rail came from Liberia--a testament to VTS's strong sense of mission from its inception. It is that chapel where the words over the altar read "Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel." It was a place of blessing and being sent. It wasn't a perfect chapel. It was dark, it was not liturgically easy to navigate, and it was very Protestant looking. However, even the Tiffany stained glass windows were melted in the fire. It was a place of solace and prayer and I think I miss it when there are weeks like this one. I know I miss the community that gathered there that made that chaple a living and sacred space.

The British are Coming

Another wonderful visit with Uncle Andy. He stayed for five days and heads back to Kosovo on Monday.

Need I Say More?

Look what Elias received in the mail today. What a wonderful gift.

Putting in His Two Cents

Elias has been thoroughly enjoying school. And, as far as I can tell, the school has been enjoying him. He was going to school every day for both the morning and afternoon session. However, after about two weeks, he told me he wanted to come home after lunch and do his quiet time at home. So, after he said this repeatedly, I decided he would come home on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That process had been going well until two days ago. We were out back and the children were playing right next to us, as is the normal custom. Elias started to get agitated and said that he wanted to play with his friends. I explained to him that he had chosen to come home. Finally, I added that the other kids parents worked late and they paid for them to be there. As soon as I said that, he marched up to his room and retrieved his pirate wallet. The next thing I knew he had pulled out two pennies and tried to give them to his teacher so he could pay to go to school like his friends. His teacher laughed and refused the money. She advised him to save the money for college instead.

The next morning when Adam walked him to school he stopped the director of the preschool and handed her those same two pennies. He informed her that he changed his mind about going to college and wanted to go to preschool instead. How's that for a resounding affirmation of early childhood education?

Cousins, cousins, everywhere

Adelaide and the Law--the grey hair continues

Yesterday afternoon included the longest 9 minutes of my life. I had gone to pick-up Elias from preschool at 12:30. As is the custom, we stop by Mrs. C's desk and say hello. During that time, Addie wandered into her father's office--which is not unusual. However, she managed to push a button on his wall, which is a panic button and alarm. There are a few of these buttons in the building in case someone is alone and an intruder surprises them. The noise went off and Adam yelled a few choice words and we were told to exit the building. I grabbed Miss Perpetrator and Elias and Jed and made our way out the front door of the church office into our home. I told Adelaide never to do that again and that the police would probably come to the church and Daddy would be in trouble. She seemed to get the severity of the situation and cried, "I don't want to go to jail" over and over again. I assured her she would not be incarcerated. However, I took her straight up to her room for quiet time.

Meanwhile, I settled baby Josiah down for his nap after feeding him. I left the room and poked my head into her bedroom and saw an empty bed. At first, I just assumed disobedience and checked her brother's room where he was quietly playing with his Legos. I asked him where she was and he said, "I don't know." Still not too concerned, I checked the bathroom and then went downstairs expecting to find her coloring on the kitcehn floor or something. She wasn't in the kitchen. I checked the backslab and the playground--still no Addie. My heart started to race. I ran up to the third floor hoping she would be perched on the couch fast asleep. She wasn't there or in the closet or in the guest room or the bathroom. But, I began to be really scared. I raced down the stairs and rechecked the rooms calling her name and then flung open the front doors and banged on the church office door. Maybe she had wandered over to the church in that short time. The parish administrator ran and got Adam and she started to look around the outside of the house while we looked in the interior. Elias came triumphantly down the stairs and announced to his father, "Adelaide's gone!" Adam raced up the stairs and found her fast asleep completely under her bed. In fact, I had already checked under her bed at first, but I couldn't see her from the doorway because it was so dark in the corner where she was actually sleeping. We breathed a huge sigh of relief and Eli said, "I couldn't find a single three year old. Not one three year-old anywhere." When she finally woke-up I told her how scared I was. I then asked her why she was sleeping under the bed. She said she was hiding from the police. So, the day ended with nobody being arrested and without filing a missing person's report. Adelaide, you are the reason I'm getting my hair highlighted next week.

Mama's Homemade Applesauce

Josiah tried rice cereal a few days ago and gave it a full thumbs down. So, I made some applesauce yesterday. He enjoyed that and I later mixed in some oatmeal. His teeth really seem to be bothering him. However, nothing feels as good as a spoon to chew on.

Some new presents

Adelaide received a big girl comforter which replaced Elias' old Target, car comforter. She was thrilled and promised to have no accidents on it! She also recieved lots of other lovely presents like books, clothes, a bike from Gaga and Pop-pop, and a new teaset from Bibi. The teaset was a hit and Elias and Adelaide played for a good hour making each other tea and having a "lovely time." Cheers!

Over heard this week:

Elias to Adelaide: You are three now and three your olds share!

Adelaide to me: Would you like a cup of lovely tea?