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Dear Folks,

This evening I will be interviewing Hahrie Han at the Ivy Bookstore on Falls road about her new book Undivided. Han’s compelling tale centers on the stories of four individuals, two Black and two White, two women and two men as they navigate race and racism in Cincinnati from 2015 to the present. Each of them is involved in a large evangelical church, Crossroads, as it creates a six-week anti-racism initiative called “Undivided.” The course, which is more aptly called an experience, is the brainchild of pastor Chuck, a Black leader in the majority white church who feels deeply called to convene a conversation about race in their city after the death of a Black man in police custody. Chuck preaches about the painful topic one Sunday, invites interested congregants to join him, and that week over 1000 people show up for the first session. Something very important was stirring.

There are multiple contexts for this significant work: a series of similar deaths of young Black men and women across the country, the movement of Black Lives Matter begun on social media, the explosion of young seekers who fill the theater quality seats of Crossroads for its come-as-you-are Christianity and commitment to multi-culturalism, all against the backdrop of the 2016 presidential election. The explicit question on participants’ minds was how to be Christian and committed to anti-racism; internally, many wondered if it was possible, especially given evangelicalism’s history in America.

A surprising vote in the 2016 election is what brought the work at Crossroads to the attention of Hahrie Han, a political science professor at Johns Hopkins University whose research is in faith-based political organizing. In a pattern seen across the country, Trump won the largely rural state of Ohio by eight percentage points, while Clinton beat Trump in Hamilton County, a Democratic enclave within the state where Cincinnati is the county seat. Yet the same voters approved a ballot initiative to fund universal pre-school by twenty-four percent. Han writes, “a supermajority of Black and White residents passed a ballot initiative to raise their own taxes to fund universal preschool education with target resources for poor—mostly Black—communities.” How did that happen, she asks.

Han continues, “People kept telling me about one church that sent a steady stream of volunteers to support the initiative…Two young women, one White and one Black, (who) organized large, racially diverse groups of volunteers to phonebank…from a Protestant evangelical megachurch called Crossroads—technically a multiracial church, but unequivocally white dominant in both numbers and culture.” Han wonders how these church members became so animated in supporting a policy designed to benefit the Black community.

Her research leads her to the anti-racism course “Undivided,” which she encounters with a sizeable level of sobriety, if not cynicism. Academics and industry leaders believe that Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion programs are largely ineffective, so Han’s query was what made “Undivided” make such an impact on its participants’ lives. Her book tells the story of how inviting emotional vulnerability in curated multi-racial small groups engenders a process of lasting change: because they feel safe, folks will engage themselves, the issue of racism, and its implications. Further, a multi-racial group offers a context for practice. And finally, adding thoughtful “off-ramps” for continued relational work—in community organizing, housing or prison work—provides on-going accountability. Each of the three components is essential.

Sandra, Jess, Chuck, and Grant invited Han into their messy stories of transformation, ordinary folks committed to the extraordinary work of racial healing, “at the edge of social change.” It’s there that light breaks through, Han writes, “at the seams between the world as we have it and the world we are hoping to create.”

Join us tonight from 6:00-7:30 pm at The Ivy Bookstore, 5928 Falls Road.

Love,
David

While I am not a sailor myself, I’ve spent enough time sailing on boats with experienced sailors to know and understand a few things.

Like how important it is to keep the deck clean and clear.

And how you need to take good care of ropes and lines, keeping them untangled and sorted.

And how it’s critical to be paying attention and be prepared to move and act at a given moment, in order to catch the wind just right, so you can ride it when she blows!

I find sailing to be a helpful metaphor when thinking about grace. While we are not the Source of Grace, we can choose to cooperate with Grace when She appears. We can choose to do our part in being ready to act, to move in a specific direction, to make a certain decision that helps to bring about more healing, more wholeness, in ourselves and in our communities. Or not.

From my own experience, taking intentional, regular time to reflect and evaluate is part of “cooperating with Grace”. My work with BUILD and learning the disciplines of community organizing have been particularly helpful in developing a regular practice of reflecting and evaluating.

After every event or action, as leaders we huddle up and take the time to ask and answer, “In one word, how do you feel?” “In one sentence, what worked well?” “What could have been improved?” “Did we get the ‘reaction’ we were intending, with this ‘action’? If so, why? If not, why not?”

Just like a good team meets in the locker room or on the field with their coach to reflect on the game they just played, so too can we as members of “Team Jesus” be intentional about incorporating the regular practice of self- and group-reflection, in order to be better prepared to “catch the wind” and “cooperate with Grace” the next time She appears; the next time we have the opportunity to be agents of healing and Shalom.

So my invitation for you today is to choose to cooperate with Grace by taking some intentional time to reflect on and evaluate a recent occurrence in your life, that presents the opportunity to learn and grow.

May you be prepared to ride that wind the next time she blows!

Love,
Cristina

Why do you come to church?

Do you come for the music? To hear an inspiring word? To find comfort? Peace? To not feel alone?

Why do you come to church?

When I was a child growing up in Timonium, I went to church because it’s what we did as a family, every Sunday. My family attended The Church of the Nativity, in the days before it became the Roman Catholic “megachurch” it is today. I liked the sermons Fr. Coulson preached; even as a child, I felt like he was talking to me, his sermons were so clear, grounded and accessible. I loved the ritual and the singing, and how we all prayed the “Our Father” together. I loved looking around at all the people and families who sat around us, and how they often sat in the same pew Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. (For any who might remember Mark Belanger, the Orioles’ shortstop in the 1970’s, he and his family often sat in the pew right in front of us; his sons were as tall and slim as he was!) I loved when it was time to go up for communion and receive a wafer.

And I really loved how each Sunday after church, I would find Fr. Meisel standing by one of the front glass doors, waiting to greet and talk with people. He would always talk with me, Sunday after Sunday, month after month, year after year after year; wanting to know how I was, how school was going, how my family was doing. He had a dry sense of humor, deep voice, big heart, and lots of plain old common sense. I loved that, and I loved him.

As an adult and an Episcopal priest now for 14 years, I still come to church for many of the same reasons I did as a child. I still love looking around and seeing everyone in the pews, and how people often like to sit in the same pew Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. I still love communion. And I still love the sense of knowing and being known; of loving and being loved — by people in the church, and by something bigger that some of us call “God”.

But there is more, now, that draws me to church. I come to cry, to laugh, to sing, to pray alongside others who are doing their best to navigate this thing called “life” and “being human”, just like me. I come to listen to ancient stories of hope and healing, suffering and redemption, perseverance and faith; and to those stories about Jesus of Nazareth that my mind-body-soul have come to rely on like a thirsty pilgrim traveling on a desert road.

And … to be honest … I come to be changed, to be transformed, knowing and believing that who I am today — much as I have grown — is still shy of the fullness of Who God Created Me to Be. I come to be part of the transformation of our community, our city, our nation, and yes, our world, that the glory of God may be made more fully manifest throughout all of God’s creation.

So that’s just some of why I come to church.

What about you? Why do you come?

(And if you simply need an invitation to come, you’ve just been invited!)

Love,
Cristina

What do you think of this gospel story? Would you include it in Jesus’s greatest hits?

There are a lot of excuses we could offer to get Jesus off the hook in the dialogue between him and the Syro-Phoenician woman: maybe he’s tired, maybe he’s on vacation, maybe he’s joking, and the church over the centuries has turned itself inside out over the seventh chapter of Mark. But I think our call to mutual respect and reconciliation is furthered if we let Jesus’s words here sound as bad as they sound. A Gentile woman whose daughter was ill came before him, begging him to cast out the demon that possessed her. Jesus memorably says to the woman, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But she answered him, “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” And Jesus responds, “For saying that, you may go. The demon has left your daughter.”

Jesus’s first response is uniquely harsh; no other suppliant in the gospel is treated with such rudeness. Why does he initially deny her request for healing? And no matter how you look at it, the term dog is an insult. Virtually every interpreter agrees. Scholars list several Hebrew Bible and New Testament references to dogs, none of which are flattering. Dogs in this culture were regarded as unclean. Even in the broader Mediterranean context, dogs were considered scavengers, like rats to an American or European, and not as domestic pets.

To match the phrase “little daughter,” the story teller uses a diminutive form, saying “little dog,” and some ambitious apologists suggest that Jesus is only having a bit of fun here. “He’s just calling her a puppy,” says one writer and “she should get the joke.” But how many of us have successfully called a stranger a derogatory name, who by the way is a different ethnicity and gender from yours, and had that “playfulness” go well?

Barbara Brown Taylor suggests Jesus is worn out. He has just come from his home town, where his friends and family have doubted his authority. He has received word that John the Baptist has lost his head, in a frivolous party game at the court of the king. He has pulled away from it all, but the crowds followed him, and he fed them with five loaves and two fish. And then there was a storm at sea. Everywhere Jesus turns, there are people and their needs, and frustrating confusion about who he really is. He is at the end of his rope, all but used up. When the Syro-Phoenician woman comes to him, he draws a hurtful, insulting line. “The doctor is out,” says the sign on the door. “Closed for the weekend.”

But the woman will not stay on her side of the line. “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs,” she counters.

Now most of us have trouble changing our minds when we hear a perspective contrary to our own, but that’s a lonely ghetto that serves neither us nor the common good. Even Jesus is guilty of drawing a line and refusing to cross over it… In a sense, he has his fingers in his ears as the story opens in today’s gospel. Yet the Syro-Phoenician woman will have none of that, and with quiet dignity and a sense of humor that embraces both herself and the man speaking to her, she helps Jesus take his hands from his ears and open up his eyes. And I believe that’s why this stirring drama is included in the scripture: the soul of the woman helps us expand our vision of God and of what’s possible for each of us.

Every human being is sacred and precious, no matter where they come from, what they look like, how they worship, or who they love. The poor, foreign, single mother with a sick daughter is the hero here, not Jesus, at least not until he changes his mind. She says to him, “I’m here and I matter. There is food and grace for each of us. God’s heart is bigger than anyone imagined, and there’s room in there for me and my little girl.” And with that, the line that religion so often draws between those within and those outside disappears.

“The limits he placed on himself vanish, and you can almost hear the huge wheel of history turning, as Jesus comes to a new understanding of who he is,” who we are, and what he has been called to do. “God’s purpose for him is bigger than he had imagined. There is enough of him to go around! And there is no going back to the limits he observed even a moment ago.” The old boundaries, of religion and God and humankind, will not contain this new vision. And Jesus will rub them out and draw them bigger, to include this foreign woman and her daughter today, and who knows who else tomorrow. (paraphrase of Barbara Brown Taylor)

So, although you might not have considered it earlier, I think this story should be on our list of greatest hits, and maybe it ought to be at the very top. This woman and her conversation with Jesus changes everything. It makes all the difference, because it tells us that every death-dealing boundary between people needs to be erased, every wall we have built over time or just this morning, needs to be taken down, stone by hurtful stone. Engaging her, respecting her, including her becomes the very reason for the Jesus movement, because any religious way that doesn’t center folks like her and her daughter is not worth following or standing for.

A group of women I know, in a church somewhat south of Baltimore, were talking one Sunday about this reading from Mark. “That man Jesus was sure enough tired that day, and he said something he shouldn’t have,” one began. “That’s alright, I guess,” said another, “but that sister sure set him straight.” A third offered, “She wasn’t mean at all; she just stood her ground and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was strong, Jesus listened, and he changed for the better, too.” After a pause, the first woman wondered aloud, “You think my husband has heard this story?” Why don’t we make sure that everyone has?

And you know what? If Jesus’s vision and heart can grow bigger and more loving, like it does in this gospel, then maybe ours can, too.

Love,
David

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+

Dear all,

After months of preparation, our confirmation class pilgrimage to Belize left Baltimore early in the morning on Friday, July 12^th. We were there for five days, departing Belize on July 17^th and arriving in Baltimore in the wee hours of the morning on July 18^th. There are more pictures and stories than can be shared in one post, so I encourage you to join the pilgrims after church this fall for to see and hear more about the trip. For now, here are some of our pilgrim’s reflections, and a few photos to go with them.

Day 1

After arriving in Belize, we visited the Anglican Cathedral of St. John in Belize City. Mahogany was a primary export of Belize when it was a British Colony and the mahogany doors of the cathedral are carved with an image of John baptizing Jesus.  We saw the grave of the Rt. Rev. Eldon Sylvester, the first man of color to become a bishop Anglican Church in Belize, in 1972, and his wife, Sonia Sylvester. After a couple of hours drive we arrived in Spanish Lookout, the Mennonite farming town where our retreat center was located.

“This whole trip was an experience like no other. I’m glad it was my first time going out of the country because I learned so much and had so much fun with my group and the people around me. The views were breathtaking, the people were unbelievably kind, and the culture was so interesting. I loved learning about the country from the people I ran into and I wish I could do it again. I can’t thank all of the people who donated and helped us on our trip enough.” Casey Donovan

 “Our pilgrimage to Belize was a blast. It was more than amazing to share the time given to us and grow our relationships with each other. All the sights we saw and interactions we experienced will stay with us for a very long time.” Harry Abernathy

Day 2

On our second day in Belize we piled into our trusty 15 passenger van and our host Jeanne’s pickup truck to drive over to the Plett family farm. They showed us around their orchard  where we tried different kinds of mangoes, guinep fruit, and coconuts (which we got to open ourselves with machetes!). Afterwards we drove to Xunantunich, a Mayan archeological site, and learned about Mayan culture and history in the area.

“Our first full day was the machete day. We went to a farm and got to try a number of fruits straight from the trees. I can still say that, in my opinion, mangoes and coconuts are still not very good; this is something I feel like I have full credentials to say as I tried three different types of mangoes that day and both the water and meat of the coconut. However, I did discover that guinep are quite yummy. This is not to say that I did not enjoy myself tremendously that first day, for I was able to use a machete. I felt so powerful using the machete. Granted I was not very good nor accurate, the whole group took a few steps back when it was my turn, but I still feel that if I was given a machete I could hold my own. I think I may need to invest in a machete now. Anyway, after the farm we headed to see Mayan ruins. We climbed to the top of the highest temple and looked down on both Belize and Guatemala. It was astonishing to see first hand the legacy of these people who lived thousands of years ago and managed to make such a huge impact on the world.” Anne Garrett Randolph

“Traveling to Belize was an amazing experience. I had never been out of the country before this and I couldn’t have enjoyed this trip any more than I did. Belize gave me the opportunity to see and do things I had never done before, like exploring an ancient Mayan civilization from thousands of years ago! The memories I made with the people I knew, people I got to know better, and people I just met are some I will always cherish. Belize also made me realize just how massive the world truly is, but despite its size, people everywhere live, laugh, and love the same. We are all connected by love, which is the light that shines over the whole world.” Ben Paglinauan-Warner

Day 3

On Sunday, our third day, we got up early to drive to San Ignacio for the 8 am Eucharist at St. Andrew’s Anglican Church. We were warmly welcomed by Rev. Rose, their priest, and found that we knew many of the prayers and hymns! After the service we walked around town before stopping for lunch on our way to Big Rock Falls. After spending some time at the falls we headed to the Rio Frio Cave – it’s hard to get a sense of its enormity, even from the pictures!

“The entire trip I was pleasantly surprised by the adventures we went on, like waterfalls, fruit tasting, Mayan ruins, caves, cave tubing, zip lining, and being drowned in hospitality. I was immediately able to bond with this group even from the airport to Belize. They are now considered such close friends and I am so glad I was able to go on this trip. Even as a picky eater there was something delicious to eat at every meal. Finally the chaperones were so amazing at helping us be present in the experience. It could not have been more fun.” Henry Poe

“The trip to Belize was so much fun! I laughed more times than I can count and found myself in awe at every place we went. We visited caves and ancient ruins, zip lined, cave tubed, helped paint a fence for another church community and so much more. After dinner every night we talked about something you noticed or a way you saw God throughout your day. Hearing people’s experiences and thinking about your own was really interesting. I am so thankful I was able to see this amazing country. I am also so grateful for the memories I have made and will always remember on this trip.” Clare Cheston

Day 4

After packing our lunches and cleaning up from breakfast, we headed back to St. Andrew’s in San Ignacio to paint the wall around their church property. Rev. Rose was there to meet us, and joined us again in the afternoon once we were done. It was a long sweaty day – and perhaps the most meaningful to many of our pilgrims. As we painted we wrote our prayers and blessings in paint on the walls.

“This experience has meant so much to me. I feel it has brought me closer to God and my community. Through my experiences from visiting incredible works of nature and meeting all kinds of people I was able to grow as a person. I was able to see the joy and kindness in a community I was not familiar with. During our service work of painting a local church I noticed the difference little actions like this could make and see the ripple effect within the community. I was able to meet people like the reverend of the church and locals passing by, noticing the work being done. This experience has given me a deeper love and appreciation for my own church community. Visiting works of nature like caves and waterfalls and being able to see historical landmarks like the Mayan ruins made me realize how much more of the world there is and how much God created.” Claire Frisch

“This trip was a lovely and insightful experience. It was a joy to see the light of God in the interactions I witnessed, especially vivid when those interactions were centered around the painting of a fence around St. Andrew’s Church. The pilgrims came together and painted for around five hours. There was some complaining – we are teenagers – but it was minimal. The bonds that were formed and strengthened through joint community service were so nice to see and be a part of. At the end of a long and frankly very sweaty day, the priest and parishioners and even random people noticing our work made it all worth it. Thank you to all the people that made this trip possible, and for all the thoughts and prayers while we were abroad.” Catherine Green

Day 5

On our last full day in Belize we set out prepared for adventure: cave tubing and zip lining! We had wonderful guides as we floated through the Nohoch Che’en Archaeological Reserve and zipped our way through the jungle canopy and over the Caves Branch River. Then it was back to the retreat center for a final celebration meal with Ingrid, our amazing cook and caretaker: rice and beans with stewed chicken, fresh tortillas, fried plantains, and chocolate cake. It was a moving evening and a beautiful ending to our time in Belize.

“This trip meant a lot to me because it meant reconnecting with people I had been really close to in the past…I’m really glad we all reconnected and were able to have such an amazing time. I learned a lot about myself and all of the other people on the trip with me. Our last group talk really made an impact on me because it showed me how open we all came to be with each other. I really loved experiencing a whole new country with my friends, meeting the people of Belize and learning what God was to the people there as well as myself. I also enjoyed all our meals together, our conversations and being able to experience Belize’s food. I’m so thankful for our group and the people who made the trip happen because it really was an impactful and really fun experience.” Gracie Bedford

 “One of our aims during this trip was to experience wonder and how we connect with God. Over the course of our trip, I experienced many moments of wonder, but one stood out to me.  On our last day, we went tubing through a cave and zip lining through the jungle. This particular moment occurred during the tubing. As we drifted through the river, I looked to my left and saw that the jungle had spread down into the cave through an opening. A wooden staircase had been erected so explorers could experience this feat of nature. This beautiful scene was fit into a picture frame made from the dark stone of the cave. The feeling was magical, like something out of a novel. It shows how the light can seep through the darkness.” Anne Garrett Randolph

 

~Rebecca