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Dear Folks,

We are in the midst of several transitions at Redeemer. Two weeks ago we celebrated the vibrant gifts of Freda Marie and said good-bye to her at a festive coffee hour. Freda Marie has begun her post-parish life, training in grief work that invites individuals to deeply consider their loves and losses. This Sunday we will bid farewell and godspeed to Rebecca, as we give thanks for her transformative leadership with youth and young adults. Join us at any of our services this weekend, and especially at the Parish Picnic after the 10:00 service, which becomes a big party to tell Rebecca good-bye.

And we are also beginning to say hello to new folks and old friends in new roles. As I said a little while ago in the announcements, “Help is on the way!” I am pleased to introduce to you The Rev. Anna Noon, who has joined our team as Director of Children’s Ministries. Anna will lead the work with our youngest children, coordinating the Sunday School program, recruiting and training volunteers, and communicating with families, and help us invigorate our offerings to middle schoolers.

Anna spent twelve years as a sales and program manager in the telecommunication industry before following her call to become an Episcopal priest. She spent over a decade in parish ministry and later served as a missionary in Santiago de Compostela, Spain, where she ministered to international pilgrims walking the Camino. Originally from Kentucky, Anna holds a B.A. in Music from the University of the South, Sewanee, and earned her MDiv from the General Theological Seminary in New York.

I’m not sure we have ever had a priest in the role of Director of Children’s Ministries, so there is much to celebrate that Anna will embody this important work. Stay tuned for how she will bring her training in music and depth of spirituality to Christian education.

Other big news is that Thomasina Wharton, Director of the Center for Wellbeing, will add the role of chaplain to the Parish Day School. “Mother T” has already led her first chapel, and the children were captivated. I am so pleased that Thomasina said “yes” to this broadening of her ministries at Redeemer.

As I write to you, we are in final discussions with a priest who will lead our youth and young adult programs… I look forward to sharing his name soon! And staff members are concluding their interviews with candidates for Barb’s position of Administrative Assistant. Barb will retire in mid-October, and we’ll communicate details of her celebration soon.

Change is hard, and good. Be tender with yourselves as we navigate it. Here are some helpful words from poet Allex Elle. It’s title is Rebirth.

There will be moments when
you will fully bloom and then
wilt, only to bloom again
if we can learn anything from
flowers it is that resilience is born
even when we feel like we are
dying.

Love,
David

I am praying and writing in the side chapel of our chapel. Hanging above and to my right is a framed work of art from South Africa made of red-hued wood, portraying four students sitting together with their teacher under a tree. Nearby is an image of a young Jesus, flanked on either side by his parents. Beneath this image, to its right, stands a cross on a ledge and an icon of mother and child that leans against stained glass. Sunlight streams through the window, creating red, white, yellow and blue patterns all around it.

Years ago, as I was sitting and praying with colleagues in this same sweet, sacred space, a waking dream was gifted to my mind’s eye and lodged in my heart, where it still lives— that of a bonfire on a beach of white sand, with the dark blues and greys of ocean waves hitting the shore, their soft roar the soundtrack to a scene that unfolds.

As the waves roar and the bonfire crackles, three human figures emerge, drawn by the light of the fire. In the blink of an eye, they find themselves dancing and moving in effortless, clockwise synchrony, around that fire. And as the dance continues, encircling the fire, more and more people are drawn to join the dance — all moving and dancing together (… like a flock of geese flying … or a school of fish swimming … ) in hypnotizing, mesmerizing, peaceful, gorgeous grace; all moving together as one body, around that singular fire. And the number of people moving and dancing all together in sweet, sacred synchronicity around that fire on that beach is so great, the white of the sand becomes hard to see; there are so many people.

We here at Redeemer have been gifted with a season of dancing with Freda Marie and Rebecca among us; their wisdom and joy, strength and grace, light and love informing and enlivening our common life together as we seek to follow and to embody the Light of Christ in our world.

My heart aches and breaks as I allow myself to feel the grief of this season coming to an end. My heart fills and expands as I allow myself to feel gratitude for knowing and loving them; for being known and loved by them; for all we have shared; for having been gifted with a season to dance and serve together as sisters, colleagues, friends.

(I imagine, perhaps, your heart may be feeling similar things … )

We will continue, of course, to dance by the light of God’s grace, even as Freda Marie and Rebecca begin to dance on different shores. As they leave us, others will join our dance, marking a new season and a new chapter of this, our unfolding, ongoing dream.

To my sisters:

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rain fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of Her hand.
(Irish blessing)

In the words of Dag Hammarskjöld (Swedish economist and statesman who served as the second secretary-general of the United Nations): “For all that has been, Thank You! For all that is to come, Yes!”

Love,
Cristina

I don’t know how you feel about it, but for me, the last five years of our time together have been exciting, enlightening, encouraging, and full of learning; as well as daunting and quite challenging.  Nevertheless, as I write these last thoughts, I am grateful to G-D for it all!  I have always been a perpetual student and have never tired of adventures in learning new things, so I was particularly happy to arrive from the Deep South to Mid-Atlantic America.  I considered my arrival and presence in the beautiful Christ-centered community of Redeemer another puzzle piece in understanding my life’s assignment, which I am sure is ordered by Divine design.

We are each individual and unique, and yet our assignments are all the same.  Somewhere, each of our individual destinies is to metaphorically Walk Each Other Home or to assist each other back into the fullness of G-D.   Home is where LOVE lives.  It is our destiny to undertake this great enterprise, and at Redeemer, I feel truly blessed to have been called to a community that is doing just that.

We have been through a lot—you and I.  Who would have ever thought we would be celebrating Easter Sunday on Zoom while our beloved David+ celebrated the Holy Eucharist on the sidewalk with his neighbors on Chester Street?  Did we dare to breathe a sigh of relief after the threat of COVID-19 had dissipated a bit?  And what about the travesty of George Floyd’s murder and the battle of the Black Lives Matter movement against slander and libelous dialogue everywhere around us?

And after all of that, just look at the beauty that arose from those ashes, including, but not limited to— the ordination to Holy Orders of the priesthood a new priest in our midst (our Rebecca+), and the resulting vibrancy and new life brought to the Youth and Young Adult ministries; Breathwork weekly on Facebook and Yoga Church monthly; enlivening and enlightening bible studies on Wednesdays and Thursdays; full investiture in learning more of our nation’s history through Sacred Ground; Evensong and Taize services that always left us wanting more; fuller engagement with life in Baltimore City through BUILD, Turnaround Tuesday, and beyond.

Through it all, we have kept rocking and rolling into new Life.  It is the life we are living today, and it feels glorious.  Truly, as we have listened to the Spirit, we have been learning our assignment.  You and I have each been Walking Each Other Home.

Every ending is a new beginning.  My daughter, Crystal, told me that when she was 13 or 14 years old.

“Never forget, Mom,” she said, “the sun sets on this side of the world but rises on the other.  There’s no place where it’s always night.”  True words.

My Friends, the sun rises each and every day we are given, and you will remain in my heart as a Light forever. Remember that you are blessed to BE a blessing.  That, too, is part of the assignment.

With Love and Prayers for Every Good,
Freda Marie+

Dear beloved, wonderful, beautiful people of Redeemer,

In his first letter to the Thessalonians Paul writes, “How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you?” (1 Thess 3:9)

Paul is writing to a community that, in spite of Roman persecution, is flourishing. He and Silas, his co-worker, had visited Thessalonica and connected with the people there, teaching and preaching about Jesus. Even after Paul and Silas had to flee the city, the Christian community grew. And so Paul writes to them, celebrating and encouraging them.

Millenia later, and thankfully not under Roman persecution, these words resonate with me as I prepare to leave Redeemer in a month. Truly, how can I thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that I feel before our God because of you?

How can I thank God enough for conversations in the narthex before church, or prayers with acolytes before we get in position?

How can I thank God enough for all the hours spent at RYG, falling over laughing as we play games, or cheering performers on during play rehearsal?

How can I thank God enough for evenings of youth Bible study, with their insightful reflections on scripture and indignant reactions to textual injustice?

How can I thank God enough for every student at the Day School, each teacher and staff member, all the wonderings about God and shouted verses of “This Little Light of Mine”?

How can I thank God enough for years of confirmation classes, powerful and wonder-filled pilgrimages; extended conversations with volunteers, standing at our cars after everyone’s gone home; staff meetings with colleagues who are true friends; pancake suppers, bake sales, walks around the neighborhood, cups of coffee, Easter Vigils –

Paul’s words just keep ringing through my head. How can I thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that I feel before our God because of you? I don’t know that I can.

It feels totally an act of God’s grace and the Spirit’s movement (and a parishioner’s well timed email of a job description to my dean) that I found myself at Redeemer four years ago. Baltimore was known to us, but not a place we had thought to move. And then we visited, and made the leap, and here we are, four years later, excited for our new adventure and sad to leave.

I am deeply grateful to have been formed as a priest at Redeemer. As I reflect on this period, and what I hope to carry with me into the future, one part of my formation here stands out: You taught me how to be a priest whether I’m standing at my kitchen counter or at the altar in our sanctuary or out in the world.

Because I was ordained a priest during the winter of 2021, we were not meeting in person for church, still gathering on Zoom each Sunday morning. The first time I celebrated the Eucharist, I was by myself, at my kitchen counter, while Zach sat in our living room. The Body of Christ that existed beyond our household was far away, separated by walls, anxiety, and uncertainty. We gathered online, and we broke bread together, and that was so very important. But it was hard, too, personally and spiritually. I had been ordained a priest, but I didn’t really feel like a priest – I was missing the most important part of what this office means to me. I was missing all of you.

As we slowly came together, we had to figure out how to build and nurture relationships at a distance. Then, emerging from pandemic lockdowns, we had to learn what we wanted church to be like moving forwards in our changed world. And we did. We did it. Together. That experience of early ministry will go on to mark everything else that I do – and I am so glad it will, because in spite of not feeling like a priest in those early months, feeling physically separate and unable to minister in the way I’d been trained to, the way I’d expected to, you taught me how to be one anyway.

You taught me through Zoom calls, recorded prayers on Facebook, a socially distant RYG prom, and your commitment to one another. Later, you taught me through shared grief and heartbreak and joy and laughter – through camps and pilgrimages and so many small, ordinary moments in between. Each of those thanksgivings above, and so many more, were each lessons on how to be a priest – not just in church on a Sunday, but wherever I find myself. Getting to be your priest has been an inexpressibly great privilege and honor. I cannot thank God enough for all of it, and for all of you. You are each such a gift, such a blessing, such an incarnation of divine love.

How can I thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that I feel before our God because of you? I will do my best to try.

Love,
Rebecca+

I’ve spoken before of my friend, Gaspar, who sometimes maddeningly tells me, “Honey, it’s time for you to ‘level up,’ when he knows I am hedging about doing something that I should do for my highest good.  Well, he has used a new Gee-ism on me recently, and it has been showing up in more than one or two places in my life.  That one is, ‘lean in.’ 

My first encounter with leaning in was when I was, once again, avoiding and repressing something— a feeling it turns out.  It was anger and because I had been conditioned to associate anger with not-so-good, bad, and ugly things, I never really recognized it and kept it under wraps. Apparently, we human beings learn to do this really early in life and then wonder why sometimes our later lives are in such disarray!  It turns out the emotion of anger is actually a secondary emotion to fear, which is primary and totally acceptable, too.

Anyhow, Gaspar said I needed to feel my anger and not run from it; to lean into it would allow it to shift or be transformed.  Failing to lean in and attempting to ignore or cover it up, just made it balloon until it eventually expressed itself in other, totally unsatisfactory ways.  I understood.  I knew those other unsatisfactory ways, and maybe you have known them, too.  Accepting what is first allows us to move into another place of what we may want it to be.

Through the next several weeks after this conversation, the phrase lean in started showing up all over the place.  My perception had shifted and now I noticed it more.  I always pay attention when I see puzzle pieces like this. I recognize it as one of the ways the Spirit is speaking to me and asking me to listen with my heart.

Most recently, I was reading an article about hearing the words of the Scriptures in a different way by what the author, Brian Morykon of Renovare,  calls, “Zooming Out and Leaning In.”  In his essay, Zooming out means paying attention to the context within which the words are read, and Leaning in means becoming ONE in Relationship with the Divine Mystery.  As Brian says, “We lean in—like John on Jesus at the Last Supper—to hear the heartbeat of God pulsing through the text.”

Anyhow, now that I am becoming more familiar with the phenomenon of leaning in as an acceptable way to be in my life, I have noticed a new peace and acceptance with less fear and reactivity to inevitably changing circumstances. Many of us are old enough and have experienced enough Life to know that expectations of any kind are prime candidates for unexpected outcomes.

Nevertheless, I choose to lean in as a woman of Faith.  As our faith tradition teaches us there is a Safety Net or “the Everlasting Arms” underneath us.  It is always there and never fails.  “G-D, truly is the name of the Blanket we throw over the Mystery to give it shape.”  And that Mystery loves us and leans into us no matter what!

Keep Smiling and Leaning In,
Freda Marie+