by the people of St. James’

Lenten Reflections

St James’ Episcopal Church, South Pasadena1325 Monterey Road, South Pasadena, CA 91030

www.sjcsp.org

Lenten Greeting fromthe Rev. Canon Anne Tumilty

As we begin our annual Lenten pilgrimage this Ash Wednesday, it is my hope that these reflections will be a valuable guide. It is helpful to set aside time each day to accept personally the invitation to a holy Lent. This invitation is unique because Christ invites us to make a journey that he already has made. By drawing close to his ministry, passion, and resurrection, we are drawn to LOVE who bids us welcome. In the words of George Herbert (1593-1633), the Welsh-born English poet and Anglican priest:

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin.

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slackFrom my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,If I lacked anything.

A guest, I answered, worthy to be here: Love said, You shall be he.

I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,I cannot look on thee.

Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,Who made the eyes but I?

Truth Lord, but I have marred them: let my shameGo where it doth deserve.

And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?My dear, then I will serve.

You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:So I did sit and eat.

On behalf of St. James’ clergy and staff, and the many contributors to this booklet, we pray that your Lenten journey be blessed.

Lent and Holy Week Schedule

Wednesday, March 5ASH WEDNESDAY

Holy Eucharist and Imposition of Ashes, 7 a.m. and 12:30 p.m.Choral Eucharist and Imposition of Ashes, 7 p.m.

Sunday, March 23 Ecumenical Lenten Service: Choral Evensong

Lenten dinner, 5 p.m. Program, 6 p.m. at St. James’ Church

Sunday, April 13: PALM SUNDAYHoly Eucharist, 8 a.m. Choral Eucharist, 10:15 a.m.

Monday, April 14: Holy Eucharist, 12:30 p.m.

Tuesday, April 15 : Holy Eucharist, 10 a.m.

Wednesday, April 16: The Church will be open for private prayer

Thursday, April 17: MAUNDY THURSDAYCelebration of the Lord’s Supper:

Choral Eucharist and Foot Washing, 7 p.m.Child care for infants and preschoolers provided.

All-Night Prayer Vigil: 8 p.m. to 11:45 a.m. Friday

Friday, April 18: GOOD FRIDAYGood Friday Service with Choir, 7 p.m.

Child care for infants and preschoolers provided.

Ecumenical Good Friday Service at Holy Family Church @ noon

Lent and Holy Week Schedule

Saturday, April 19: HOLY SATURDAYThe Great Vigil of Easter, 8 p.m.

Choir with trumpet Child care for infants and preschoolers provided.

Sunday, April 20: EASTER SUNDAYFestive Choral Eucharist, 8 a.m. and 10:15 a.m.

Music with brass and organChild care for infants and preschoolers provided.

Preparing for the Vigil Please join us from 9:15-10:00 Sunday mornings for deeper

consideration of how the Great Vigil readings tell the story of salvation!

Supporting Union Rescue Mission On Sundays March 23, 30, and April 6th, please bring items of clothing

and blankets to give to the Thrift Store that Union Rescue Mission is opening to support their ministry to the homeless. Places to donate your

items will be available in the Parish Hall.

Wednesday Night Lenten SeriesWhat can we learn from the Lenten journeys of those that came before

us? Come to St. James’ at 6 p.m. on Wednesdays and find out!

Sunday Night Lenten Ecumenical ServicesCome join the churches of South Pasadena for an Ecumenical

gathering of common worship. A simple supper will be served.March 9 — Grace Brethren Church, 6 p.m.March 16 — Calvary Presbyterian Church, 6 p.m.March 23 — St. James’ Church Choral Evensong, 5 p.m.March 30 — South Pasadena Assembly of God, 5 p.m.April 6 — Oneonta Congregational, 5 p.m.April 13 — Holy Family Catholic Church, 7 p.m.

A Guide to Daily Prayer

Opening Prayer

The Lord is full of compassion and mercy: Come let us adore him.

Confession of Sin

Reflect quietly before God, asking forgiveness for those things done and those things left undone. Remember that “the Lord is full of compassion and mercy.”

Scripture Lessons

Read the Psalms for the dayRead the Old Testament reading for the dayRead the Epistle for the dayRead the Gospel for the day

Prayers

The following is a suggested guide for prayer during Lent:

Pray for all Christians around the world and especially for those who endure persecution for their faith.

Pray for our nation and all those in authority.Pray that Christ’s peace may cover the world. Pray for the end of conflict and

war and for the triumph of truth and justice.Pray for those who suffer and grieve.Pray for our Church and for closer union with Christ.

Ash Wednesday

I remember the first time I placed ashes on the foreheads of others. It was a heart-rending experience to press the grit of an ashen cross onto the foreheads of so many loved ones: parishioners, friends, and my own children who were very young at the time. We never get used to hearing the words: “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

Most of us prefer to forget our “dustiness,” however Lent begins with a profound truth that strips away pretense and delivers us face to face with God, our limited time on Earth, and the hope we have in Jesus Christ. The image is drawn from our Genesis story when all was new and the Potter God knelt down in the dust of the Earth on creation morning to mold and fashion human life. The intent of the Genesis imagery is clear: God is the origin, source, and resource of our lives. The story is as old as our primordial parents and as new as our own lives. By LOVE, God continues to call us into fullness of life; to speak into our circumstances; to touch, fashion, shape and fill us; and to grace us with God-given breath, hope, and a future beyond our imagining.

Buried beneath the smudge of the Wednesday Ash on our foreheads is the Cross. Herein lies our hope. In the days ahead, let us allow God’s tenacious love to find us in the earthiness of who we are, where we have been, and draw us by grace to who Christ is. Let us consider the things that ultimately matter and discern what does not. This is the invitation.

We begin today with words fit for a funeral but will end this holy season with the joy of Christ trampling down all forms of death. Bookends to a holy Lent…

Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 103; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

The Rev. Canon Anne Tumilty is the Rector of St. James’.

Thursday, March 6th

Kevin Baaske is a Professor of Communication at Cal State LA. He is the Senior Warden and a member of the choir at St. James’.

Deuteronomy 30: 15-20; Psalm 1; Luke 9: 18-25

There are several provocative aspects to these seven verses. There is Peter’s brash statement that Jesus is the Christ. It makes me wonder why I am so reluctant to make such an explicit declaration. Then there is Jesus’ foreshadowing of the crucifixion and resurrection and the realization that He knew what was to come and accepted it. But the lines that struck me the hardest are those which Jesus delivered when he called upon us to take up the cross in our daily lives. It is comparatively easy to believe in Jesus Christ. The difficult part is living the life Christ calls us to live. It also raises some challenging questions:

Are we living a Christian life if we simply make time for Christ on Sunday mornings, but do not love one another throughout the week?

If we pursue material things (even gaining the whole world) instead of following the teachings of Christ, can we still call ourselves His disciples?

What can we do in our daily lives and at St. James’ Church to demonstrate that we are as committed to God as God is committed to us?

Perhaps Jesus is asking us to put love for each other at the core of our being. That is not always easy, but it seems to be at the center of the life He envisions for us. And I think he is asking us to demonstrate that love through our actions. We all need to reflect on how we can truly carry the cross in our daily lives. At St. James’ I think it means standing up and being involved. It means supporting the Church both financially and through love for our community of faith. Carrying the cross isn’t an easy, but it seems like it is what Christ demands of us.

Friday, March 7th

Greg and Gayle Richardson have been members of Saint James’ for three and a half years. Gayle works at the Huntington Library, and Greg has a practice as a leadership coach and spiritual director.

Isaiah 58:1-9a; Psalm 51:1-10; Matthew 9:10-17

The one thing we know about Lent is that people give something up for it. Some people give up alcohol or caffeine, some people do not eat chocolate or red meat, some people give up spending so much time online. I often wonder why, when God fills the world with all these loving gifts, God asks us to stop enjoying them. Why do we give things up for Lent? Why do we fast and deny ourselves? What does God want us to do?

In this reading from Isaiah, God tells people what kind of fast, what kind of sacrifice, God wants from them. God describes people who have rebellion in their hearts but who act as if they delight to draw near God. God describes people who serve only their own interests, even as they appear to make sacrifices. God describes people who quarrel and fight, who are unfair to the people around them, who pay more attention to how they look than what is in their hearts. After pointing out these qualities, and how inconsistent it seems that these same people ask for God’s favor, God describes the fasting and sacrifice that God seeks from them.

God does not value people who are trying to earn something by appearing to be close to God. The fast that God seeks is when we release the bonds of injustice, when we treat people fairly and honestly. God is pleased when we share what we have with people who need it, when we feed the hungry and welcome the lonely. God goes even further. It is as we become the people God created us to be that our light will shine out like the dawn. God’s love will shine through us, we will call and God will answer. Lent is not about giving things up and not enjoying the gifts that surround us. Lent is about preparing ourselves to become the people God desires us to be. Lent is about setting aside the things that keep us from being God’s people.

Saturday, March 8th

Todd Blackham is the Director for Youth Ministries and is a Postulant for Holy Orders. He has been at St. James’ since 2009.

Isaiah 58: 9b-14; Psalm 86: 1-11; Luke 5: 27-32

I imagine Levi sitting there at his tax booth; there can’t be many folks who walk up with a smile, eager to pay the occupying empire and an additional fee from the tax collector. Levi’s profit was based on whatever he could leverage on top of the Roman tax. You don’t make a lot of friends this way. He was likely wealthy, but despised. He has friends, however. That’s clear. He invites them all to come and meet Jesus. But, it’s clear that his friends are also the ones on the outskirts, the outcasts, the notorious sinners. When you’ve been excluded, you find friends wherever you can.

If the Pharisees had their way, they’d continue to shun the impure in order to rid themselves of any association with the law-breakers. For the Pharisees, purity trumps relationship. When they question Jesus’ disciples about it, they can’t conceive of any reason Jesus should associate with them. They are so clearly not worthy of table fellowship. The Pharisees are absolutely blind to any value in people like these.

Jesus, turning the tables again, insists that the work and the love of God are about reconciliation, not just righteousness. Levi sat at that tax booth everyday realizing his mistakes but being trapped on the outside, he had no way to regain the favor of the religious leaders. So, Jesus goes to him. Jesus goes into the midst of our brokenness to bring us out. For Levi, the invitation to come out of his brokenness was enough to leave everything behind and follow Jesus. During Lent, where do we find ourselves trapped in isolation? Where have we condemned ourselves as unworthy and irreconcilable? And, how have we also shunned and condemned others? We might find that in the ways we have condemned, we condemn ourselves. Jesus offers the invitation to come out of condemnation and into reconciliation.

Week One

Almighty God, whose blessed Son wasled by the Spirit to be tempted by Satan:

Come quickly to help us who are assaulted by many temptations;

and, as you know the weaknesses of each of us, let each one find you mighty to save;

through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Amen.

Monday, March 10th

On a Sunday morning, the youth and I spent time with this gospel reading in Lectio Divina. We read through it three times. After the first, I asked each to share the words that stood out. Despite its strong language about judgment, some of their first responses were glory, gave, blessed by my father, foundation of the world, righteous. There wasn’t a single mention of one of the “harsh things” I’d thought would dominate the conversation.

As we continued in our meditation, the theme that developed was that the way we treat one another here and now is directly related to how we treat Jesus. With this focus, future judgment matters less and loving one another now matters more.

Listening to their insights, I was reminded that sometimes we rush ahead toward the end of the road and get lost in fear and shame. In our conversation, the fear of eternal punishment was eclipsed by the opportunity to honor Jesus in our relationships here and now. In Lent, we may become more aware of the broken areas in our life. And yet, even seeing those missteps, we have the chance to return to God, to relate to Jesus in our day-to-day interactions. As we look into our lives, we need not find ourselves isolated in shame and fear of judgment. Every passing moment is a chance to serve Jesus in the ones around us. And, as we do, fear melts away and we find ourselves embraced by God.

The end of the story is reconciliation and grace. But we need not, must not, wait until the end. The work of reconciliation is happening all around us. As our faith in Jesus’ resurrection points us to eternal life, we have the chance to live in the Kingdom everyday with the people around us, in Christ.

Leviticus 19:1-2, 11-18; Psalm 19:7-14; Matthew 25:31-46

Todd Blackham

Tuesday, March 11th

Matthew chapter six contains the familiar text of the Lord's Prayer, our model for daily prayer which invites us to approach God intimately as a parent. Although “thy” and “thine” sound archaic and formal to our ears when used, they represent the familiar singular form of “you,” comparable to the Spanish "tú" and French "tu" forms.

The Lord's Prayer invites us to be part of the family and rely on God daily as a parent and provider. In the context of approaching God intimately, the warning in verses fourteen and fifteen is all the more striking, yet fitting. The manifestation of divine forgiveness in our lives can be helped or hindered by whether we forgive others.

Do we extend mercy and forgiveness to others (do we extend the family)? Or do we block divine love permeating the world and ultimately hurt ourselves spiritually? How do we respond to injustice and abuse but still keep an inner posture of forgiveness?

Isaiah 55:6-11; Psalm 34:15-22; Matthew 6:7-15

Marilyn Gray has been attending St. James’ for just over a year. She works at UCLA as the coordinator of the Graduate Writing Center.

Wednesday, March 12th

As I lean into this story and meditate on Jesus’ words, I discover a deepening truth. Jesus says Jonah became a sign; Jonah himself—his life—is the sign. Jesus, the Son of Man—himself, God incarnate—is the sign, even greater than the sign of Jonah. Christ in me and in you is the sign.

God, being the divine creator/artist, takes all the raw materials of our lives—the messy and the beautiful, our mistakes, our rebellion, our running, our anger and disappointment with God, and our religious pride—and continuously shapes us into something new so that God’s purposes (in our life and in the lives of others) will be fulfilled: all of creation will be restored to the joy of God’s salvation.

The signs of Jonah and Christ also remind us that transformation usually includes suffering: the real and symbolic deaths in this life, when it seems that we are in the dark belly of Sheol, or the Pit, or the desert and wilderness. It is in these places of emptiness that we can become our most honest before God. Like Jonah, we pray to the Lord our God, calling on him in our distress, and God answers us. For there is no place that God is not.

Lent invites us to enter into the depths of ourselves, to name our darkness and our need. The Good News is that God is already there waiting for us in the grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love of our Lord Jesus Christ, who freely chose to enter into the depths of the human condition. The sign of Jonah, the sign of Christ, is the ongoing creative and redemptive promise of God being fulfilled in us and in all of creation.

Jonah 3:1-10; Psalm 51:11-18; Luke 11:29-32“For just as Jonah became a sign to the people of Nineveh, so the Son of Man will be a

sign to this generation.” (Luke 11:30)“My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a wounded heart, O God, thou wilt not

despise.” (Psalm 51:17, NEB)

Lisa Cerrina and her husband Michael have been at St. James’ for more than two years. She is an art therapist, a marriage and family therapist intern, the owner of Creative Flow Studio, and serves on the Vestry at St. James’.

Thursday, March 13th

Psalm 138 and Matthew 7 both speak of the depth of God’s unconditional love. No true desire will be left unsatisfied. But personally I still struggle with asking for things from God. I already have been given so much, while much of the world sleeps hungry. My family is generally healthy. Twenty-five million people in Africa have HIV. I am grateful for what I have been given and certainly don’t think I have any right to complain about the service in this joint.

The Matthew reading finishes with a restatement of the Golden Rule. Although merely a restatement of Jewish law, the Golden rule is really the essence of civilized societies. It spans many religious traditions as well as secular humanism. Of course, the Golden Rule is simultaneously simple and impossible. I guess that, in part, is why we need a faith community.

Psalm 138; Matthew 7:7-12“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures

forever.” (Psalm 138:8)“In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the

prophets.” (Matthew 7:12)

John Wood and his wife Ruth are both faculty members at USC. Their family has been coming to St. James’ since 1999 and have been longtime choir members. They were attracted to St. James’ for its inclusiveness and sense of community.

Friday, March 14th

When Jesus said that unless our righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees we will not enter the kingdom of heaven, he did not mean we must elaborate the law of Moses into more volumes of rules than they did—in effect, to beat them at their own game. The Pharisees pursued righteousness with far more diligence than most Christians, and contrary to widespread opinion—including our dictionaries—the word “Pharisee” should not be defined as “hypocrite.” Yes, some Pharisees were hypocrites, but so are some Christians. The Pharisees were “separatists”; that is, those who separat-ed themselves from evil in order to more effectively pursue righteousness.

The righteousness that is greater than that of the Pharisees is that which results from the gift of God. The difference is qualitative, not quantitative. The demands of the Sermon on the Mount can sound terrifying (see Matt. 7:21) and as if salvation is the result of what we do, but it is clear from the larger context of the Gospel, and the Sermon itself, that God’s grace provides the framework of salvation. The Beatitudes (Matt. 5:3-11) at the beginning of the Sermon do not declare super-achievers as blessed, but those who come with empty hands to receive what God alone can bring them.

In the middle of the Sermon, in the middle of the Lord’s Prayer, is the pe-tition for the forgiveness of sins—a matter of pure grace, which is then to be extended to others (Matt. 6:14-15). So then too, in our passage, we are ex-horted to be reconciled to others (Matt. 5:23-24), even as we have been rec-onciled to God. Reconciliation is the heart of the gospel, and depends on the grace of God in Christ. Paul had already seen this when he wrote: “in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.” That’s the message of the cross and it has enormous significance for the world today.

Ezekiel 18:21-28; Psalm 130; Matthew 5:20-26

Bev and Don Hagner are newcomers at St James’. Don was a professor of New Testament at Fuller Seminary for more than 30 years. Bev, a clinical psychologist, worked as a therapist in several Southern California clinics for some 25 years.

Saturday, March 15th

In three translations of the Bible, people who faithfully obey God’s laws are described three different ways: “Blessed,” which implies a status better than others. “Happy,” which is a nice but wimpy word to describe God’s reward for a profoundly difficult lifelong process.

The translation that helped me understand this passage was “joyful,” as in: “Joyful are people of integrity, who follow the instructions of the Lord. Joyful are those who obey his laws and search for him with all their hearts…” (Psalm 119:1-2, New Living Translation).

The hard part is to figure out God’s instructions. Simple interpretation of the Commandments or scripture taken out of context would be easy. Society has its own code that sometimes—but not always—overlaps with God’s wishes. Pursuit of popular causes impresses others and makes people feel good about themselves, but these activities can be a substitute for God’s laws. Relentless busy-ness and general keeping up can lead to gains like wealth or status, but never joy. These are society’s practices, not necessarily God’s, and to determine the difference requires thought and prayer. Through thought and prayer comes the joy of knowing God.

I don’t claim to know what God’s intent was in any Bible passage, nor do I think scripture should be used to control others. We have a saying at our house: “How about you just worry about yourself?” My lesson is to obey (not enforce) God’s laws to the best of my ability in my daily life. That alone is quite enough to worry about! Joy comes from prayerfully determining and then carrying out God’s intention via personal actions. The last verse, asking God “Please don’t give up on me” reminds us we won’t ever get this completely right and that’s OK.

Deuteronomy 26:16-19; Psalm 119: 1-8; Matthew 5:43-48

Kim and Dan Besen have attended St. James’ for 13 years. Dan is the Junior Warden at St. James’. He is in the lumber industry and has worked for the same company for 30 years. Kim is a retired CPA and current stay-at-home mom. Their daughter Danielle is in 10th grade and serves as an acolyte.

Week Two

O God, whose glory it isto always have mercy:

Be gracious to all who have gone astray from your ways,

and bring them again with penitent hearts and steadfast faith

to embrace and hold fast the unchangeable truth of your Word,Jesus Christ your Son;

who with you and the Holy Spirit livesand reigns, one God,forever and ever.

Amen.

Monday, March 17th

Lent is a season for setting aside time for reflection on our lives, in light of Scripture, as Daniel did. Realizing how faithful God has been to us, we are led to confess what we see in ourselves that does not measure up to the compassion and forgiveness that God offers us, and God calls us to offer the same to all the people with whom we come in contact.

Daniel 9:3-10; Psalm 79:1-9; Luke 6:27-38

Don Hawthorne is a retired Presbyterian Pastor. He met his wife Lee when they were both students at Princeton Theological Seminary. They have been attending St. James’ since August 2013.

Tuesday, March 18th

Think with me of this call to reconciliation as being sealed both with a handshake and an embrace. The church calendar, like the seasons of the year, with slight and abrupt variations, turns us back toward loved ones and neighbors, creating encounters and opportunities for tightening or mending relationships we can use or avoid. On a thoughtful way to Holy Week, Lent is a quiet cul de sac set with benches that allow us to see ourselves coming and going. Sitting here offers a chance to ask the questions: Do I really like what I see of myself? Have I not been pushing against the restraints of both my human and spiritual nature? On occasion inwardly and also outwardly, even altogether kicking the traces, giving rein to an unlikeable self? Have I not left behind the simple comfort of sweet clean hay, community sounds, the familiar and easy yoke… and for what?

As I think this way, Someone sits uninvited on the bench beside me. “Lets talk about it,” He says. And we do. I begin to know where this is going to end: a strong masculine handshake and then a standing long embrace, which I suddenly, deeply want. But here in public?

If He is not ashamed of being seen with me, how can I be ashamed of being held by Him?

Isaiah 1:2-4, 16-20; Psalm 50: 7-15, 22-24; Matthew 23:1-12

Come now, let us argue it out, says the LORD:though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow;though they are red like crimson,they shall become like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured by the sword;for the mouth of the LORD has spoken. (Isaiah 1:18-20)

Stan and Francis Hirtle have been associated with St. James’ for over thirty years. Stan is ordained in the Disciples of Christ tradition, and is the retired pastor of the church next door to St. James’.

Wednesday, March 19th

Nick Taylor and Alicia Emerson have been at St. James’ since August 2011. Their son, Caden, was baptized at St. James’ in January 2013. Nick is an engineer at JPL in La Cañada. Alicia is a piano teacher, singer and stay-at-home mom.

Jeremiah 18:1-8, 18-20; Psalm 31:9-16; Matthew 20:17-28

The lyrics of the song “Change My Heart” are: Change my heart, O God. Make it ever true. Change my heart, O God. May I be like you. You are the potter; I am the clay. Mold me and make me; this is what I pray.

God says to Jeremiah, “Can I not do with you, O house of Israel, just as the potter has done?” That is, can God not re-shape His people by tearing them down or building them up anew? The answer seems to be an obvious yes. But He also says, “If at any time I announce that a nation or kingdom is to be uprooted, torn down and destroyed, and if that nation I warned repents of its evil, then I will relent and not inflict on it the disaster I had planned.” It would appear that being transformed is inevitable. The question is whether we submit to the process or resist it.

In Matthew, the mother of the Zebedee brothers asks that Jesus give them places of honor in his kingdom. He denies the request and the other disciples are indignant. So Jesus explains that the usual ideas of authority and honor are earthly constructs. In fact, his mere presence indicates a radical shift in what it means to be powerful, influential, and important. According to Jesus, “whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.”

We cannot control tomorrow or God. We can submit to the process, to the moment, to be transformed. We can repent of the evil we have done, and the evil done on our behalf. We can seek justice. We can serve others with humility and gratitude. Because it is in serving, that we are shaped according to the Potter’s hands. It is in following Christ that we love him.

Thursday, March 20th

The practice of Lent for us Christians does not merely address our inner dispositions. The Messiah of Israel, coming to us in the flesh, transforms the real dust and blood stuff of everyday life.

Jesus’ parable has in view a distance fixed between two main characters, a social distance between the “rich man” and Lazarus (“a poor man”). This distance continues to divide them to the end. Even in death, angels escort the one whose only friends in life were scavenger dogs, knowing the care in life he was denied. Jesus shows that what the Pharisees ridicule Jesus for (i.e. his teaching about the proper use of money on behalf of the poor and showing hospitality toward strangers) is clearly expressed in their Scriptures.

What we have in the New Testament is not a depiction of a “spiritual” or “religious” reality of belief opposite the political and economic life of Israel described in the Old Testament. God’s Kingdom, the reality that Christ brings, is one that displaces worldly violence, like the rule of wealth made evident in practices that separate the “rich” from those in need.

Faith is that which establishes friendship between those the world exploits and fears under the names “immigrant,” “homeless,” and “terrorist.” Thus God’s grace is not merely an idea; it is a holy, social happening. “The old has passed away, behold the new has come,” is a thick, historical claim. The Gospel reading can remind us that the season of Lent leads us to be renewed by coming to see our whole lives under Christ’s good Lordship.

May the neighborliness God has shown us in Christ restore our sight. Where our ambitions blind us to our neighbors, may we discover the brothers and sisters we did not know we had; for in them do we come to possess the riches of heaven. Lord, you have made all things new in your Son. Amen.

Jeremiah 17:5-10, 18-20; Psalm 1; Luke 16:19-31

Trent Pettit graduated from Fuller Seminary in 2012 (MDiv), and has been at St. James' for over five years.

Friday, March 21st

Genesis 37:3-4, 12-28; Psalm 105:16-22; Matthew 21:33-43

Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes our family isn’t the family that we would hope for. Sometimes we have a hard time overcoming our own shortcomings.

Such is life. The point isn’t to become pessimistic, but to be able to marvel at the rough edges of life and the people and things in it. To go beyond the binds that has been placed on us, either by ourselves or others—this is strength, maturity and the healing we really need.

Whenever I think about Joseph I think about Rachel, his mom. Joseph’s father Jacob went through hell to be with her. When he finally got to be with her he had to marry her sister, too. And when Rachel died giving birth to Joseph’s little brother Benjamin, I guess there was something in his father that died too. Jacob probably gave Joseph and Benjamin everything he could, as they were Rachel’s sons, while he took the others for granted. Philo of Alexandria said, “Be kind, for everyone fights a great battle.” This situation was pretty rough, but that didn’t excuse the actions of Joseph’s brothers. It might be too easy to fast-forward to the end of the story, where Joseph’s brothers go to Egypt and receive mercy when they did not deserve it, but I encourage you to sit in the reality a little.

Hurt is real. The pain is there and the wounds will last a lifetime. If we refuse to notice our wounds and our scars, we can never really be healed. “Stretch out your withered hand,” said the Lord (Matthew 12:13).

Lord God, fill our hearts and minds with your peace and give us patience with those things and those people who have hurt us. Might we be as Joseph and reflect the mercy and grace our Lord and Savior Jesus demonstrated on the cross. To the glory and praise of God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Amen.

Adam Gossman is the husband of Laura and the proud papa of Benjamin. He works in the Library Archives of Fuller Theological Seminary. Adam strives after the Divine in the Everyday and often gets distracted by trees and small animals.

Saturday, March 22nd

In this passage from Luke, Jesus tells the story of a family, a father and two sons. One day the younger son says to his father, “Give me my share of what I will inherit when you die.” We do not know whether he is bored, or seeks to start a business of his own, but his father gives him part of his property, and the son goes far away. He doesn’t not invest the money, however, but spends it all. He ends up living in a field feeding pigs. Finally he decides to return and beg his father to forgive him. His father throws his arms around him and celebrates his return.

The older son, however, is bitter about what his father does. He refuses to celebrate, resenting that he has always worked so hard and never received any recognition from his father. Now his father is wasting even more of his inheritance on this failure who does not deserve it.

Jesus’ story tells us a lot about these brothers and their father. The brothers may seem to make very different choices, but they share something essential. Both are eager for their father to die to let them get on with their lives. They both feel entitled to what their father wants to give them.

The story also tells us a lot about ourselves and how we relate to God. Some of us seem to believe that we earn God's love for us. We are responsible, we work hard, we do what we think God wants us to do. We play by the rules and believe that it is only fair that God loves us. Some of us spend God's blessings on things that do not really matter. We go our own way, unconcerned about where we are headed in the long run. We want what we want when we want it. God is watching and waiting for our return.

Micah 7:14-15, 18-20; Psalm 103:1-4, 9-12; Luke 15:11-32

Greg and Gayle Richardson

Week 3

Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves:

Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul;

through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Amen.

Monday, March 24th

In this passage, a Samaritan woman meets Jesus at noon at Jacob’s well when she goes to draw her water for the day. In their discussion, the woman and Jesus talk about where the Samaritans and Jews worship. Jesus tells the woman that “true worshipers will worship the Father in the spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit and his worshipers must worship in the spirit and truth.”

When I read this, it makes me think about how church is not a building. It strikes me that the Samaritan woman met Jesus at a well when she was doing her daily chores. She was not in the temple praying. An encounter with God can happen where ever and when ever He chooses.

This passage also makes me think about Paul’s advice to “pray in the Spirit at all times in every prayer and supplication” (Ephesians 6:18). It seems that if our prayer is genuine and honest with God, we can learn to truly pray unceasingly, even while doing everyday chores. Maybe this type of prayer opens us up to be able to recognize the God moments in our everyday encounters.

Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 95:6-11; John 4:5-26, 39-42

Cynthia Sherman, her husband John Stipanov, her daughter Charlotte, and her mother Arlene have been at St. James’ for nine years this Easter. She works in finance for a major bank in downtown Los Angeles. In her own words, “At St. James, I stumbled upon the contemplative path of spiritual practices and I practice centering prayer. Daily I work to balance the need to be quietly centered in God’s presence with the demands of a hectic schedule.”

Tuesday, March 25th

I once worked for a production manager on a feature film. He hired the crew for the movie. If a crew member made a mistake or messed up in some way and needed to reprimanded or fired, it was his job to do it. He was quick to take this action when needed. However, I noticed that when it came to his own mistakes he would say, “Well it’s water under the bridge and can’t be undone now. We have to move on.” So often we are quick to rationalize that we are blameless while we quickly condemn the actions of others.

In Jesus’ parable about the slave who couldn’t pay his debt to the king, we see why he taught us to pray “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” The king orders that the indebted slave, his wife, and children, and all that they own be sold. This is what he deserves. The slave falls on his knees and pleads “have patience with me and I will pay you everything.” The king has pity for him and forgives the debt. Does the slave pay this mercy forward? Does he forgive his debtors as the king forgave his debts? Certainly not. And boy is he in trouble when the king is told about it. He is handed over to be tortured until he pays back the debt. And that seems a very tricky thing to do: earn money while being tortured.

During the time of self-examination of Lent, this may be a good area about ourselves to explore. Do we forgive or excuse the sins of others, particularly against ourselves, as quickly as we ask for and accept the forgiveness of God? Jesus says that this is how it works. We fall on our knees and ask for patience and forgiveness. God wants to see that we have shown patience and forgiveness for others. Isn’t this one of the greatest challenges of being a Christian?

Daniel 3:25-27, 34-43; Psalm 25:3-10; Matthew 18:21-35

Greg and Karen Hamlin came to St. James’ in 1985 where they have raised their daughters, Anouska and Natasha, and have been joyfully involved in ministry of many kinds.

Wednesday, March 26th

The speakers in these two passages announce to the reader that they are about to teach. When Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene after the Resurrection, she addresses him as rabboni, “teacher.” Teaching was highly valued in biblical times, although we tend to trivialize teaching nowadays (e.g. “those who can’t, teach”). But, when you stop and think about it, teaching and being taught are some of our most profoundly human qualities.

Of course, humans learn, but that isn’t unique among animals. Rats learn. Even fruit flies learn. What sets humans apart is our capacity for teaching: the social transfer of abstract information that propagates through groups of people with repeated transmission. I can train my dog to sit on command, but she will not pass on this knowledge to other dogs. Furthermore, although she is happy enough to learn commands (especially when there are doggy treats involved), she doesn’t seek out my teaching.

People are different: we want to be taught and we want to teach others what we have learned. Our knowledge of God is shaped and propagated through teaching that is founded in ancient documents and renewed and expanded in our daily lives. The Bible contains the teachings of Jesus and of the prophets. Through successive millennia, writers and poets have elaborated on these teachings. We come to church on Sunday mornings to be taught in sermons and songs. Above all, we desire to be taught by God, as expressed in Psalm 119: “Teach me, O Lord, the way of thy statutes.” Our relationship with God is individual, but it is enriched by our human capacity to teach each other.

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 5-9; Psalm 25:3-10; Matthew 18: 21-35“My people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth.” (Psalm 78)“Now, Israel, hear the decrees and laws I am about to teach you.” (Deut. 4)

Ruth Wood is a neuroscientist at USC. She and her family have been singing with the St. James’ choir for 15 years.

Thursday, March 27th

Sarah Drabant came to St. James' in 2007 and has served as the Director of Music since 2011. She also teaches choir at the Orange County School of the Arts in Santa Ana. She and her fiancé Robert will be married at St. James' later this summer.

Jeremiah 7:23-28; Psalm 95:6-11; Luke 11:14-23

In today’s scriptures, I found difficult stories. Uncomfortable stories about human failure and the disappointment of God. Yikes, do I feel uncomfortable. In Jeremiah (and in Psalm 95), God speaks to His people and He doesn’t have nice, loving, forgiving things to say. After the people of Judah have ignored Him and worshipped false gods, God is angry. Or, perhaps what comes across as God’s anger is better described as grief; a longing for people whom God loves to return. We can hear this in Jeremiah 7:25 in God’s lament, “I have persistently sent all my servants the prophets to them, day after day, yet they did not listen to me.”

Today, many ask the question, why does God bring destruction to the world, in the way of cancer, disease, natural disasters, and everything else horrible? To that, I respond, I don’t know God’s reasons for anything, but I don’t think we can project a human emotion like anger on the Divine. What is safe to say from these passages is that when people don’t listen to God, God grieves. I don’t know why there are natural disasters, or disease, or suffering in this world. All I know is that in that in suffering, we as the human race have opportunity. We have the chance to be like Christ, to put the worries we have about our own lives aside, and help others. We have the chance to listen to the voice of God. And the beautiful parts of humanity often arise in the aftermath of disaster, time and time again. To me, that’s the work of God, without a doubt. To experience God by being His hands is sometimes the closest we are to Him. And there’s no anger there. Only love.

Friday, March 28th

I can think of nothing more simultaneously inspiring and humbling than these joined commandments. There simply is no measure by which I fall shorter. It seems as if I break these commandments before my feet touch the floor in the morning.

And yet, even in my failure to love Him, God is there, rich in mercy and grace. As quickly as I can get in touch with my weakness, I can experience God’s strength. I am offered his boundless love, as described in Hosea 14. And it is in experiencing this kindness, patience and forgiveness for the millionth time that I am so drawn to love Him better. I’m inspired again to love Him more completely and to love what He loves more actively.

I find myself in this endless loop of failure, grace, and love. While I so desperately want to avoid facing my failings, it’s only then that I can more fully experience His loving embrace. And, in knowing God’s great compassion for me, I am more able and willing to share that same compassion with my neighbors.

May the healing experience of God’s abundant love for us overflow into the lives of others today.

Hosea 14:1-9; Psalm 81:8-14; Mark 12:28-34 “The most important commandment is this: ‘You must love the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.’ The second is equally as important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Mark 12:29 -31)

Joan Laidig is a clinical psychologist in private practice, the mother of two growing boys, and the wife of a great guy. Their family has attended St. James’ for the past decade.

Saturday, March 29th

Hosea 6:1-6; Psalm 51:15-20; Luke 18:9-14

I I’ve sung all my life. I’ve always sensed that we, as human beings, are wired to make that sound, lifting up our heads, opening our mouths, to speak to the Creator. I remember a lady at my Grandmother’s church in Connersville, Indiana saying, “to sing is to pray everything twice!” I believe that it gives our Lord great pleasure to hear us sing. There is also a profound connection in groups that sing together for a number of years, there’s something about that shared purpose, praying everything “twice” for years. I’ve sung with the choir at St. James’ for 14 years. In that time, we’ve seen each other through a lot: babies born, weddings, funerals, divorces, promotions, birthdays, near fatal accidents, graduations, sick children, aging parents, holy week marathons, and countless bottles of wine. I have to say that I’ve seen Jesus in every one of them, they have been Jesus’ hands, Jesus’ voice to me, giving me a song to sing when it hasn’t seemed possible to put one foot in front of the other, let along sing God’s praises!

A few months ago Bill, one of our long time choir members, had a near fatal heart attack. The choir rallied around him. And, after only a few days, he was back in rehearsal! One night we were rehearsing, The Eye is On the Sparrow. The chorus reads, “I sing because I’m happy. I sing because I’m free, His eye is on the Sparrow, and I know he watches me.” Marion Wood sang the solo in such a beautifully simple, pure, almost stark way; I can’t explain how it spoke to me. Now, Bill is not given to sentimentality. But that day he said, “I don’t sing because I’m happy, I’m happy BECAUSE I sing.” Amen to that, Bill! Today listen to monks chant the psalms, listen to a spiritual, sing with preschoolers, off pitch, at the top of your lungs, sing from whatever place you’re in. Don’t judge it. Do it: just sing. You were born for it. And the Lord will hear you, and delight in you. And you will delight in the Lord, the Lover of your soul!Susanne Wright-Nava and her family, husband, Samuel, son Cristo, 15, and Sofia, 9, have been members of the parish for 14 years. Susanne, who holds an MFA in acting from the University of Illinois, directed St. James’ Christmas Pageant last year, sings in the choir, and is a part of the prayer team. She also helps her husband run Papa Don’s deli.

Week Four

Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world:

Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him;

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

Amen.

Monday, March 31st

I pray every day and at all times of the day. It’s something I was taught to do as a young child. I pray for people I know who need prayers and I pray for people I don’t know who need God’s love. I pray for my family, the health of friends or strangers. I pray for events to happen in my life and yes, I pray for the occasional free-throw. This season I have been praying a lot for the Lakers. I pray for the people of St. James’. If you are reading this, I have probably prayed for you!

Psalm 27 is my go-to scripture. It reminds us to seek God's will through prayer. It reminds us that God’s will is over and above our own dreams and desires. During Lent I am reminded of God’s love for us and I feel that connection even more through prayer. God has a greater plan for us and Psalm 27 reminds us to pray to discover our role in God’s great will.

Micah 7:7-9; Psalm 27:1, 10-18; John 9:1-13, 28-38 “Hope in the Lord! Be Strong! Let your heart take courage! Hope in the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14 CEB)

Allison Rector works as a Director of Human Resources and has been attending St. James’ since 2000.

Tuesday, April 1st

John chapter 5 includes the healing of the paralytic at the pool. (“Take up your mat and walk”). Before the miracle of healing, Jesus asks the paralyzed man: “Do you want to get well?” (John 5:6). Perhaps, as one scholar suggests, Jesus simply wanted to know if the paralyzed man truly desired health. This scholar wondered if Jesus would be denying the man his income if He healed a beggar.

I prefer to think Jesus is asking the paralytic a profound question, one that I need to give serious and frequent consideration. I believe God’s grace is offered each and every day of my life. Certainly, my life will be different if I allow God’s love to heal my heart. Do I truly want this change? Am I willing to let go of the familiar and step into the light?

Ezekiel 47:1-9,12; Psalm 46:1-8; John 5:1-18

Herb and Judy Krimmel have been attending St. James’ since their boys chose the Sunday school about 13 years ago. Daniel has recently graduated from college and Thomas and Paul will begin college in September. We have always appreciated the caring clergy and the wonderful people of St. James’.

Wednesday, April 2nd

Isaiah 49:8-15; Psalm 145:8-19; John 5:19-29

Psalm 145:8-9

The Lord is gracious and merciful,slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.The Lord is good to all,and his compassion is over all that he has made.

Gracious God,you show the bright glory of your reignin acts of mercy and enduring love;raise the spirits of the downcastand restore those who have fallen away,that we may sing for ever of your love;through Jesus Christ our Lord.Amen.

Thursday, April 3rd

A week ago our 4-year-old son lamented that he wished he could see God so that he could hug him.

At the time we said something about loving God in your prayers. But with the benefit of hindsight we probably should have said something about hugging God through Jesus. Jesus transforms the unfathomable mystery of God into a human face, a face among faces that as Gerard Manley Hopkins writes, “hides also in other faces.”

Without Jesus, we are prone, as these scriptures remind us, to idolatry. Unable to see God, we hug something more visible and tangible. There are big idols and many small idols, but none of them are worthy of our worship. As the Psalmist reminds us, our greatest idol is nothing nobler than an image of “a cow who eats grass.” Jesus does away with our pedestrian idolatry by giving us himself to love, and his body to love, the community who is his body, the church.

Exodus 32:7-14; Psalm 106:6-7, 19-23; John 5:30-47

David Albertson is a professor in the religious studies department at USC. Annie Albertson works as general counsel at a small brand and design agency in Culver City. They have been parishioners at St. James' since 2009. Their children Gabriel (now almost 5) and Natalie, 2, were both baptized at St. James’. From time to time, when not too busy juggling their little ones, David has helped with adult formation and teaching, and Annie has been a part of the Women's Ministry.

Friday, April 4th

When I was a child, I experienced my parents most tangibly through how they cared for me: how they held me and comforted me when I was in pain, how they encouraged me when I felt sad, how they cheered for me. I knew little about them beyond how they knew me and cared for me.

As I grew older, I got to know them better—who they are, what they enjoy doing, what makes them laugh and cry, what their aspirations are for themselves and also for me. Knowing them more deeply has grown my love for them even more.

In this world of dust and ash, in our Lenten journey of troubles, broken hearts, and crushed spirits, God meets us in the depth of our needs. God hears us, saves us, and is near to us. God knows us.

As God’s children, let us know God, too. Just as children experience the care, love, and instruction of their parents, then slowly expand their awareness and articulation of who their parents are, let us grow our knowledge of who God is and, in doing so, deepen our understanding of God’s desires for us.

Just as Jesus said, “I know him, for I come from him, and he sent me,” let us know God, that we were made by God, and how God sends us into our community.

O God, help us this Lent to know who we are, whose we are, and who we are to others.

Wisdom 2:1a, 12-24; Psalm 34:15-22; John 7:1-2, 10, 25-30

Peter Huang has been attending St. James’ Church for six years. He works as a marriage and family therapist in private practice in Pasadena and has been a Postulant for Holy Orders since last April.

Saturday, April 5th

I found the scripture John 7:37-52 to really be significant in relation to Lent. It is about whether or not Jesus was the true Messiah. As it says, those who believed in him would receive the Holy Spirit. Those that trusted would be rewarded. However, it seems that the people who were nonbelievers didn’t believe in Jesus until they lost him.

One doesn’t truly understand the value of something until they have given it up or lost it.

Now during the period of Lent we are asked to sacrifice or give up something that is important to us until Easter Sunday. This is just a small fraction of what Jesus sacrificed for us, yet we do this every year to better understand sacrifice. Without sacrifice we would never be able to fully appreciate life, or anything else for that matter.

Sometimes we have to have nothing to appreciate everything; in the end it is what makes us humble. In the end, those who trust in Him will be rewarded for their sacrifices.

Jeremiah 11:18-20; Psalm 7:6-11; John 7:37-52

Megan Jennings has been a member of St. James’ for 10 years. She has served as an acolyte; first as a torch bearer, later as a crucifer. Since graduating from high school, she has been a eucharistic minister. She is currently a psychology/pre-med major at California State University, Los Angeles. In 2009, she was selected from St. James’ to go on pilgrimage to Israel/Palestine, which she counts among the best experiences of her life.

Week Five

Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners:

Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise;

that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joysare to be found;

through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever.

Amen.

Labyrinth at the cathedral of San Martio at Lucca, Tuscany, Italy

Monday, April 7th

The story in John of the raising of Lazarus teaches us to become an oasis for the world. A place in this thirsty world that is a refreshing change from all the dryness. That’s what Jesus was when He walked the earth. He even said as much. To the Samaritan woman in John 4, he said: “If you knew who it was who was talking to you, you would ask me for a drink and I would give you living water. Whoever drinks of the water that I give will never thirst again. The water I give will become a fountain springing up in you into everlasting life.”

When we are saved, when we accept Christ, we are raised from death to life. That’s the deal with immersing in baptism: go down, die to self, and rise up from the water alive to Christ. The water doesn’t have the power to save, it’s just a better picture of our change in life. Like Lazarus, you were dead, and then Jesus calls you forth—or, in the case of immersion in baptism, he calls you up from the water.

We are called forth to be an oasis. Unlike a desert oasis, which people struggle to reach, when we become an oasis, we move to the people. In the desert, people may be crawling, desperate to make it to the oasis; that’s the lost and dying in the world. Our job is to be the oasis and go to them. There’s a fountain springing up in us.

Sometimes people are fooled in the desert. Mirage. What’s a mirage? You think you see water but when you get there, it’s not really there. It was your imagination. When we don’t have that Lazarus moment, when we don’t pass from death to life, when we don’t die to self, the oasis is only a mirage.

2 Kings 4:18-21, 32-37; Psalm 17:1-8; John 11:1-7, 18-44

Jim Prendergast came to St. James’ in August, 2013, and is a Candidate for Holy Orders. He is Senior Vice President and General Counsel of the UCC Division of First American Title Insurance Company, and is Vice Chancellor of the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles.

Emily Manthei is a writer, filmmaker, traveler and amateur theologian specializing in stories about cross-culturalism and identity. She has been attending St. James’ since 2005.

Tuesday, April 8th

Numbers 21:4-9; Psalm 102:15-22; John 8:21-30

There is an element of juxtaposition in each of these passages that interests me. “You see this now, but you’ll understand it differently later; I'm asking you to hold two opposing truths together, like repelling magnets, and to live in the space between them, where the magnets never touch.” I have seen that juxtaposition very clearly these past few months while working in some very desolate parts of the world. Places with an abundance of suffering: physical, material, psychological, and the suffering caused by living in fear. In these places, I have encountered those who look to the the Resurrected Christ, and see him not just as the one suffering with us, but also as the healer. Two opposing forces, two different natures.

The snakes in Numbers symbolize this tension: it was God who wrought suffering on the Israelites, as he was prone to do when they started grumbling... yet, God also provided the answer to their suffering in the exact same form as the suffering itself. Looking in the face of that suffering—at the snake—was what brought healing. What an odd choice. “Hold these truths together, like repelling magnets, living in the space between them”: life and death, suffering and healing, earth and eternity. I have learned this from a murderous-gang-member-turned-preacher, who looks to Christ in gratitude and hope, even though he faces the fear of retribution from his gang for leaving their way of life; and from the Christian woman defying her Muslim world by loving her persecutors, speaking truth to her elders and living in a way her society rejects, all with the faith that the Christ who suffers with her is also carrying her burdens. As we approach Easter, let us not only see Christ as the one who suffers with us, but also the one who brings a glimpse of our future hope into that precarious space where the magnets never touch.

Wednesday, April 9th

Every Sunday, we are reminded that Jesus was “crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried” in the Nicene Creed. It is incredibly difficult to link ourselves to a death that occurred so long ago, and yet we have an entire liturgical season dedicated to this purpose. We sing, we meditate, and we sacrifice. From Sunday School on, we are taught that because Jesus died on the cross for us and for our sins, we must give something up also. But that begs the question, what can we possibly sacrifice that matches the life of our Savior, Jesus Christ? Mary and Joseph lost their son, and a people lost their leader, what can I give to show Jesus that I appreciate the abundance of blessings in my life?

I have come to the realization that there is nothing that I can sacrifice that can amount to what Jesus has done for me, but what I can do is continue to devote my life to Christ in every way I know how. To pray more than when I need something and to love as Jesus loved, especially in these next few weeks.

“Will you be angry with us forever?”Psalm 85 asks questions that we often ask ourselves when we’ve done wrong in our lives. Our God is a loving God, and as Episcopalians we are reminded in our liturgy every Sunday that our God is a forgiving God. No matter what we do, we can always come home and the Lord will show us his unfailing love and salvation.

Daniel 3:14-20, 24-28; Psalm 85:1-7; John 8:31-42

Anna Duncan has served as an acolyte, and currently serves as a member of the altar guild and choir. She also had the opportunity to speak at our annual diocesan convention this past fall about her experiences on the 2013 youth pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

Thursday, April 10th

Look into God’s face. Remember the wonders he has done. As I reflect on Holy Week, and the hope of Jesus Christ, I think about the children in my life.

I see Jesus in the faces of the children every day at St. James. Each one of them is a miracle, and they are his chosen ones. I am blessed to bear witness to their hopefulness, and their openness. Their joy is a gift that keeps giving.

Being with them each day reminds me of the hope that comes at the end of Holy Week. Jesus was betrayed, nailed to the cross, and executed. Yet He rises. We see this in his strength and his love. Jesus’ resurrection is embodied for me in the children at school each day; He lives in them.

Genesis 17:1-8; Psalm 105:4-11; John 8:51-59

Rebecca Ford is the Director of St. James’ Parish Day School.

Friday, April 11th

Lent used to be my favorite season of the church calendar. As a melancholic person growing up in the evangelical church, I liked how it brought our peppy worship back to somber ground. I didn’t feel the pressure to dance and sing; I could be depressed and before God at the same time. There was a kind of camaraderie in it. Looking back, though, I can tell that I was confusing contemplative silence with a mute heart.

Last year I was diagnosed with Bipolar II. All the pain of confronting mental illness and my own limitations brought me some clarity I didn't expect: medication and therapy have forced me to attend to darker parts of myself I’d tried so hard to amputate. Coming home to myself has stirred up anger and grief and regret, and there are times when I have been tempted to stop.

So I recognize Jeremiah's frustrations as my own. After being whipped and put in stocks, Jeremiah is furious at not only his enemies but also his prophetic role and the one who gave it to him. He could turn away from God in spite and silence, but he knows it would only turn his heart to ash. After suffering, Jeremiah chooses to speak.

It is tempting to let Lent reinforce the melancholia that kept so much bottled up inside me. Thankfully, this season is not aimless, it anticipates: new life is coming. Like Jeremiah, I want to welcome these darker emotions for what they are: fire spreading through my bones and heart and head and flickering out of my mouth like prayer.

Jeremiah 20:7-13; Psalm 18:1-7; John 10:31-42

Michael Wright has been at St. James’ for over a year. He and his wife Lindsey were married this past fall.

Saturday, April 12th

To pray about and understand John 11: 45-54 brings a very contemporary question to heart: Do I withdraw into the wilderness with my faith to play it safe?

I ask myself: How many of my friends and co-workers know that I am Christian and that St. James’ is our community and family? Do they know that I pray to God, many times a day, for others, for myself, for my family, for the passengers and driver in an ambulance passing by? For someone that I see begging for food, for our priests and servants of our church, for the nation and the peoples of so many other countries? Do they know that I pray for compassion for them, my co-workers, for our relationship, for their lives, their husbands, and children? Does the man sitting next to me on the airplane know that I am praying? Does he know that God has given me a kind heart and that I would love to listen to him tell me about his husband and their daughter? Does the single parent know that I pray for their strength and sensitivity to the gift that they have, of being the sole caregiver of their child or several children? Does the parent know that God gave him or her all of these responsibilities because they can care for them?

Do I walk in the safety of a comfortable wilderness, or can you see my faith, my discipline, my Christianity?

For this Lenten season, my quest is to be able to answer “yes” to all of the above.

Ezekiel 37:21-28; John 11:45-53

Nancy Duncan has been part of the life of St. James’ for many years. She is a member of the choir, altar guild, and has served in the past as Senior Warden of St. James’.

Palm Sunday

I recently had a conversation with a public relations guru, whose clients had included corporations, U.S. presidents, even the Catholic Church. Many years ago I’d asked him about Jesus’ “campaign” on Palm Sunday. He consid-ered it a failure. Jesus had a “groundswell populist movement,” he had “en-ergized the base,” and “his message was contagious.” Jerusalem was ripe for change and he had the potential to start something new, something big.

But the scriptures for this day describe a different scenario, and are filled with juxtapositions. Isaiah 50 speaks of humiliation (something not uncom-mon with people in the public eye), but contrasts it with coming vindication. Not the work of a spin-doctor, but the declaration of innocence in the context of a smear campaign. Psalm 31 echoes those themes with a prayer of hope in the midst of despair. And on this Palm Sunday/Passion Sunday we have bat-tling messages from Matthew’s Gospel. In Chapter 21 we read of that tri-umphant, palm-strewn entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem, a campaign director’s dream. But in chapters 26 and 27 we see the campaign unravel. With tabloid-worthy themes, Mathew describes betrayal, abandonment, ar-rest, conviction, execution, and demise. If the story were to end there you would ask what hope is there for restoration and vindication.

But in Philippians Paul writes that what appears to be utter failure is ulti-mate victory. For in our Lord’s self-emptying of all authority and even respect, he redeems not only himself, but all who believe in him. Seizing the moment in Jerusalem that day would have created only temporary and somewhat lo-cal change. But in his loving sacrifice for us, he puts a divine face on our bro-ken humanity. And the Christian church has been offering that message for centuries—a message we should all be willing and able to run on.

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 31:9-16; Philippians 2:5-11Matthew 21:1-11, 26:14–27:66

The Rev. Dr. Todd E. Johnson is the Associate Professor of Worship, Theology and the Arts at Fuller Seminary, and has been assisting on a part-time basis at St. James’ since August.

Monday, April 14th

Don’t let a good crisis go to waste. That cynical phrase from American politics springs to mind given the context of Isaiah 42. It was written during a moment of great upheaval: the Babylonian empire was about to fall to Cyrus, the king of Persia. The people of Israel might be on the move, out of exile, preparing to take part in the next stage of God’s plan. This is a natural moment for reflection.

So Isaiah 42:1-9 asks: what is it that God expects of us now? An individual moral righteousness, to be sure. But also justice, which is an attribute of community. In these verses, God charges his servants to be “a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.”

Lent is, for me, a time of very personal introspection. But these lines from Isaiah remind me that when God puts his spirit upon us, he expects us to shine it out into the world to eradicate injustice. What are the dungeons in my surroundings where I can take a light?

Isaiah 42:1-9; Hebrews 9:11-15; John 12:1-11

Robin Rauzi began attending St. James' and singing in its choir in 2011. She also volunteers with the Food Bank. A former LA Times journalist, she is now a freelance editor of non-fiction. Robin lives in Silver Lake with her spouse Amy and four cats.

Tuesday, April 15th

Heather Inouye is a recent graduate of Fuller Theological Seminary. She has worshiped at St. James’ since Lent, 2012.

Isaiah 49:1-7; 1 Corinthians 1:18-31; John 12:20-36

The Lord’s servant will “restore the tribes of Jacob” and be “a light for the Gentiles, that [God’s] salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (Isaiah 49:6). The apostles’ message was “Christ crucified... to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:23-24). The Pharisees complained about Jesus, “the whole world has gone after him!” (John 12:19). When Jesus is told that God-fearing Greeks had asked to see him, he said, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” (John 12:23). He spoke of a wheat kernel dying to produce “many seeds,” explaining that he would “draw all people” to himself when he was “lifted up” (John 12:24, 32). Isaiah 49:22 describes the LORD’s lifting up His banner to beckon the nations to Himself.

Jesus’s very reason for living was to draw the nations to himself through his suffering, death, and resurrection. He invites his disciples to share in his suffering, so that they might also share in his glory. Jesus said, “Whoever serves me must follow me.”

What does this mean for us?

Wednesday, April 16th

A few days after my mother died, I dreamed I was walking toward beautiful, stark, white arches, surrounded by the bluest sky, clouds in the distance. And I heard a familiar voice say, “Carole, it’s so good to see you.” The voice was that of my great-uncle Gene. And in that moment, I knew that I was my mother. I was seeing what she was seeing: a long table, so long, there was no end. My husband’s mother (who died when he was 4) was near, as was her sister, Tia Marga. They were preparing a feast, with fresh masa in their hands, sculpting it into perfect tortillas. My grandparents were there, both sides, and many people with unfamiliar faces who smiled and nodded, radiant with love for my mother, in communion with her and the race she had run. My mother was home, and that “great cloud of witnesses” surrounded her, for the first time, visible, palpable, and true.

My Mother spent 10 Holy Weeks with us at St. James’, flying in from Indianapolis with my Dad. I so relished sharing it with her, with all of you, washing each other’s feet, Maundy Thursday Eucharist, facing the cross together, and waiting in the sanctuary’s darkness, with lit candles, waiting for the resurrection of our Lord.

This Holy Week, we wait with the millions of believers who have gone before us, each bearing witness to the life of faith we live right now. A fisherman waits with us, a tax collector, the woman at the well, a woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair, two convicts, a paralytic, the whole Communion of Saints, and our friends at St. James’ who have gone on before us. A great cloud of witnesses. As we turn our eyes toward the cross, “let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.”

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Hebrews 12:1-3; John 13:21-32

Susanne Wright-Nava

Maundy Thursday

The Rev. Michelle Baker-Wright is the Associate Priest at St. James’.

Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13: 1-17, 31b-35

Even now, in the midst of the Passover meal, as plans for Jesus’ betrayal are in the making, Jesus has something to teach his disciples: a lesson about posture. Not in the “sit up straight when you’re at the table” sense, but in the the attitude he wants his disciples to take to each other. Jesus says, “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet… I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.” This lesson is among one of Jesus’ last before his crucifixion, and so it carries particular importance. And it is deceptively simple. But how hard it can be to love others. In order to truly love one another, and to truly love ourselves for that matter, we must draw upon a source greater than ourselves.

Having one’s feet washed at the Maundy Thursday service can be both intimate and awkward. In the spirit of “adventures in missing the point,” the first time I attended a service of this nature I got a pedicure beforehand. It was too difficult to come “just as I was…” But this is exactly the place where Jesus met Peter, and where Jesus meets us; with unconditional love, in the places that aren’t polished. And the love that we receive over and over from Jesus is the source upon which we draw as we live into the call to love each other. When our own love grows thin, we are always invited back to be washed, and back to Christ’s table. To be renewed and restored and to extend the grace we have received to each other and to our world.

Good Friday

The Rev. Canon Anne Tumilty

Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9; John 18:1-19:42

We adore you O Christ and we bless you,

for by your holy Cross You have redeemed the world.

“It is finished,” Jesus said, then “bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” Exhaling his last, Jesus set his breath, his spirit, loose upon the earth. However, no one knew this yet.

For the three Marys (Mary the mother of Jesus, her sister Mary, the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala), the apostles, and the disciples, it was far from being a good Friday. It was a day of tremendous darkness and despair. The apostles were hiding in fear that they would be next. The three Marys returned home from the horror heavy with the kind of grief that words can not convey. Jesus’ body had to come down from the cross. Many pilgrims were in Jerusalem to worship in the Temple for Passover. The faithful thought that his crucified body would desecrate their holy day. This holy work fell to a disciple, Joseph of Arimathea and, according to tradition, Nicodemus. They removed the spikes, caught his slumped body, wrapped it in a shroud, and carried his dead weight to a borrowed tomb.

Yet, while tears were still being sobbed, when it seemed that all was lost, when everyone thought God had failed, was gone, impotent, and unreliable, God was not. The curtain in the temple, before the Holy of Holies, was torn top to bottom. The presence of God rushed out into the whole world. Matthew tells us that the “earth shook, the rocks split.” But far more than the earth quaked that day. On Good Friday, there was an earth shattering shift in the bedrock and foundations of the world, and in our souls.

“It is finished,” Jesus said, that we, with all creation, may know a new beginning.

Holy Saturday

This passage recounts the Pharisees’ recalling to Pilate that while Jesus was alive he said, “After three days I will rise again.” I believe that this is not just a remarkable statement but a prophetic promise. But left here, it could have been an empty one, perhaps forgotten in the passage of time. However, its inseparable companion phrase is found in the final chapter of Matthew (28: 5-6) wherein the angel of the Lord announces to both Marys, as witnesses, “for he has risen, as he said…”

Without that transformative promise kept, we would not have Easter. When Jesus, the promiser, was validated by his Divine Resurrection, the previously demoralized disciples, having just witnessed his brief return from the tomb, were re-instilled with joy, hope, and trust in him. Reinvigorated in their faith, they went forth to comply with Jesus' “Great Commission” (Matt. 28:19): “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…” (notwithstanding the almost overwhelming odds against them at that time).

Consequently, I feel both amazement and gratitude for the way those early followers willingly endured their violent and turbulent times, embraced their faith, and vigorously spread the Gospel of the New Covenant to the world. Because of their trust in Jesus—after he kept his promise—we are inheritors of that faith. We owe it to those early believers, as well as to ourselves, not to forget what they endured by actively keeping that faith ourselves! And what about promises that we’ve made: promises to ourselves, or to our loved ones, or to our church that we've kept, or not? And so let us promise to renew our faith and to be grateful for the gift of our Christian heritage and for our community of love in St. James’.

Psalm 31:1-4, 15-16; 1 Peter 4:1-8; Matthew 27: 57-66

Ray Girvigian has been a South Pasadena resident since 1967. Three generations of his family have been members of St. James’, including Ray and, until her passing, his wife Beverly, their son Dr. Michael Girvigian and his wife Kathleen, and their sons Nathaniel and William. Ray’s son and grandsons are all alumni of St. James’ Parish Day School. For several years, Ray has been serving on St. James’ Buildings and Grounds Committee as well as regularly supporting the Food Locker and Altar Guild ministries.

Easter Sunday

The Rev. Michelle Baker-Wright

Jeremiah 31:1-6; Psalm 118: 1-2, 14-24; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-18

Can you imagine the trauma, shock and bewilderment of Mary Magdalene when she arrived to find an empty tomb? The same feelings must have been shared by Peter and the other disciples as they sprinted to find out what had happened to Jesus’ body. And then Mary’s weeping and grief turns to shock and to joy as she first sees Jesus, mistaking Him for the gardener and then coming to a deeper realization that this was, indeed, her teacher, “Rabbouni!.”

The artist Albrecht Dürer created an engraving called “Christ as a Gardener,” describing this scene. And many theologians and artists throughout history have remarked on the aptness of this image. Yes, Mary misidentified Jesus, but she also viewed him through the lens of a deeper truth. Before things went amiss, the garden in Genesis was the place where God and humanity enjoyed each other’s company. And now Jesus has done business with all that got in the way of that communion. And he returns to declare restoration and reconciliation, and to draw all people to himself.

Living into this resurrection hope is a lifelong process; the disciples sought to make sense of resurrection hope throughout their lives, and we do as well. First we may encounter Christ as a gardener, who tends us and draws us into relationship. And then we may grow into deeper understanding that Christ has entered into the deepest places of death and darkness and overcome them, and that resurrection is a profound shift in how we understand the trajectories of our own lives. Where are we being invited to step into new places of hope? How can we allow Jesus to be our gardener, our teacher, and our resurrected Lord?

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

We are grateful to the Rev. Michelle Baker-Wright for compiling the reflections of our community and designing this booklet, to Robin Rauzi for her excellence in copyediting and formatting our many thoughts, to Judy Felton for her extraordinary patience with printing it, and to Greg Richardson for assisting with the web version that went far beyond our walls.

Alleluia, He is RISEN as He said, Alleluia!

Photo credits:

Cover: Michelle Baker-WrightWeek One: Caroline Lacey, http://smithsonianmag.tumblr.com, Fair Use Copyright Week Two: Wikimedia Creative CommonsWeek Three: Wikimedia Creative CommonsWeek Four: Wikimedia Creative CommonsWeek Five: Wikimedia Creative Commons

For over one hundred years, St. James’, “The Episcopal Church in South Pasadena,” has been an active, welcoming parish, serving its members and reaching out to the community and beyond. Since 1890, we have offered prayer, support, and love in the midst of life’s ups and downs.

To Learn,To Love,To Live

the Word of God

St. James’ Episcopal Church South Pasadena1325 Monterey Road

South Pasadena, CA 91030www.sjcsp.org (626) 799-9194