Dear Friends,

Some years ago Bishop Roskam was making an annual visit to Grace Church for Confirmation. In her sermon she talked about how the outside world often looks askance at “organized religion.” Her punchline was, “The real joke is that they think we’re organized.”

This coming Sunday is the day we pay attention to the organization of Grace Church. Following the 11 am service, instead of coffee hour we will enjoy lunch together in Tuttle Hall, then the annual meeting of the parish. We’ll hear reports from various lay leaders who are overseeing many of our committees. Towards the end of the meeting I’ll share my observations, focusing this year on the nature of our community and the mission of the church as I saw it in 2024.

The annual meeting is also the time when vestry leadership changes. The vestry consists of two wardens and twelve vestry members. The vestry members serve three-year terms, with the possibility of being nominated for a second term. The twelve are grouped into three classes of four. Typically, a vestry class of four will have two members serving a first term, and two members serving a second term. Thus, when we arrive at the annual meeting, the nominating committee presents two new people to serve a first term, and two existing vestry members to serve a second term. We then give thanks for the work of the two retiring vestry members. At least, that’s the way it works on paper.

But life has a way of happening. From time to time, for various reasons, vestry members will need to vacate a seat in the middle of a term. What happens then is that the vestry goes to the list of names generated by the nominating committee, and appoints the person next in line to fill the unexpired term. When the term is expired, that person then can be nominated for his or her own first term. Or, in the nominating process, a vestry member might decline the offer to serve a second term. To cut to the chase, we can wind up with years like this year, when the staggered vestry class is altered.

The class of 2025 consists of four members, not two, who are serving their second term, and thus retiring from the vestry: Douglas Armer, Mary Cannon, Shingmin Lai, and Cathy Minuse. On Sunday we will give thanks to these four for six terrific years of service. The nominating committee then will present four new candidates for election to the vestry: Julia Bates, Carolyn Bennett, Austin Berger, and Grant Marani as the class of 2028. Also retiring from vestry service is Owen Boger, who is completing his third two-year term as warden. Grace Church owes Owen a huge debt of gratitude for his steady hand in helping to guide us through the stormy seas of law suits and the pandemic. To fill Owen’s seat, the nominating committee is presenting Sarah “Sally” Hines for a first term as warden. Because Sarah is a sitting member of the vestry (class of 2026), the nominating committee is presenting Ravi Chanmugam to fill the unexpired term she vacates to become a warden. Next year, Ravi will be eligible to be nominated for his own first three-year term. If all these names are coming at you too fast, you can see a photo and read a short bio for each, below.

There you have it: organized religion at is confusing finest. Join us on Sunday for the annual meeting and luncheon.

See you in church,

Dear Friends,

A story that may be apocryphal is told of how President Reagan once took Communion at the National Cathedral. Being a Presbyterian, he wasn’t quite sure how to receive in an Episcopal church. When he confessed as much to his wife, Nancy, she replied, “Let me go first, then do what I do.” Kneeling at the Communion rail, Mrs. Reagan received the wafer of bread in the palm of her hand. It was her intention to intinct – to dip the edge of the bread into the wine, and partake of both elements together. Unfortunately, she lost her grip on the wafer and the whole thing fell into the chalice. Thinking quickly, she plucked the wafer out of the wine and ate it. When the chalice bearer moved along to the President, he, being a keen observer of his wife’s actions, tossed his wafer into the chalice, retrieved it, and ate it. My guess is that the President returned to his seat thinking that the Episcopalians have a strange way of going about their business.

Two Sundays ago we had a big crowd at the 11 am service due, in part, to four baptisms. When it came time to administer Communion at the altar rail, it was my turn to be a chalice bearer. Usually I administer the bread, so offering the wine afforded me a different perspective. It was quite clear that receiving Communion is hardly an intuitive thing. People did not know what to do. I could almost hear their questions. Do I fill in at the rail from the outside in, inside out, or just take a place anywhere? Do I kneel or stand? Must I eat the bread now, or may I take it with me? May I hold the chalice, or will you pour the wine into my mouth? If I am “dunking,” how much of the wafer should I submerge? How long may I stay at the rail after receiving? Will you dismiss me?

I don’t mean to be critical. If anything, the fault is ours for not providing sufficient instruction. The truth is, we live in what some are calling “a post-Christian society,” when many, if not most people did not grow up in a faith tradition. People are spiritually curious, even hungry. They want to participate and experience the presence of God. So it is up to us to offer guidance to those who wish it, and clear away as many unnecessary barriers as we can.

Beginning this week, at the Sunday Forum we will offer an Epiphany series that helps us understand the component parts of the Book of Common Prayer that shape the liturgy. How do we choose the Scripture readings? What’s happening during the Prayers of the People? What’s the difference between Rite One and Two and all the various Eucharistic Prayers? Finally, on the Sunday before Lent, we will offer a practical session on the do’s and don’ts of receiving Communion in bread and wine from the common cup.

Read below for more about this, and other opportunities to connect with God and others through our life in Christ.

See you in church,

Dear Friends,

We have been hearing much in the news lately about Presidents. First came the death of Jimmy Carter, the 39th President of the United States. Carter lived to be 100, and most people, regardless of their politics, experienced him as a person of humility and grace. Apparently, Carter revealed that in 1974, when he was the Governor of Georgia, he told his mother that he was thinking about running for President. His mother looked him up and down and replied, “President of what?”

Then on Monday we have the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 47th President of the United States. For us, the new administration means that beginning on Sunday, January 26, once again we will be praying for “Donald, our President.” Trump is a controversial, divisive figure. Very few people don’t have a strong opinion about him, positive or negative. But one thing we can all agree on is that whoever occupies the Oval office needs our prayers. I will be praying for President Trump: that he be filled with the Spirit of God; that he uses his power to promote justice and peace; that he respects the dignity of every human being. Like it or not, Trump is the leader the country has chosen. It is in all of our best interest to pray that he serves the nation well.

But perhaps you are not quite ready to pray for “Donald, our President.” If so, allow me to suggest an intermediate step (and please receive this with the spirit of humor intended). You can pray for me, “Donald, your President.” You may be asking, as did Jimmy Carter’s mother, “President of what?” Well, earlier today I appointed myself the President of a newly-formed organization that I just now invented: the Greenwich Village Episcopal Mets Fans, henceforth to be known as GVEMF. How do you pronounce Gvemf? It is pronounced, “Gvemf.” I note that when I say the word forcefully, it sounds like the noise my cats make when they are hacking up a hairball.

The mission of Gvemf is to acknowledge that in Greenwich Village, there are a few Episcopalians who are not actively rooting against the New York Mets. In pursuit of its mission, Gvemf will have no membership dues and no budget. Gvemf will have no meetings, no board of trustees, and ipso facto, no meetings to obsess over who will be on the board of trustees. The important thing is that I, Donald, be the President.

What are the requirements for belonging to Gvemf? We want this to be an inclusive community, so I am setting the membership bar low. You must live, work, or worship somewhere in the vicinity of Greenwich Village, Manhattan. Or, at least at one point in your life have wanted to do one of these three things. You must be an Episcopalian, which means that when you walk past Grace Church on Broadway, you think deep spiritual thoughts and declare, “Gosh, maybe someday I’ll actually go inside there.” Finally, you must be a Mets fan, which requires you to root for the Mets, unless they are playing against a team you like more than the Mets. So yes, Yankee fans, it may be a tough pill to swallow, but you can belong to Gvemf. Whoever you are, and wherever you find yourself on the journey of faith, you can pray for “Donald, our President.” You can pray for me, and let God sort out who’s who.

Seriously, friends, when the time comes, let’s commit ourselves to praying for Donald Trump, our 47th President. God bless America. Let’s go Mets.

See you in church,

Dear Friends,

We have much to look forward to on Sunday. At 10 am in the reception room, Professor Nick Birns will offer a terrific presentation on the life an ministry of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., particularly focusing on King’s quote: “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” I’ve seen some of Nick’s slides, and they weave together sports, politics, and religion. Then at 11 am we will celebrate the Baptism of Jesus with four baptisms of our own – a wonderful sign of the vitality at the heart of our congregation.

Later in the day, at 4 pm in the church, comes Amahl and the Night Visitors, to be sung by members or our Adult Choir. Amahl is a short opera in one act that is fun, funny, and a real tear-jerker, all at the same time. The story is about a young boy who greets the three kings, who are following the star to Bethlehem. Will he join them? If so, he will need his mother’s permission. I will never forget the first time my two sons saw Amahl. They were 5 and 2-years old at the time, and dissolved in laughter at certain key moments of the drama. So bring the kids if you are looking for something to do on a cold winter afternoon. They will love it, and you will too.

Immediately following Amahl everyone is invited to enjoy a delicious, home-cooked spaghetti and meatball supper in Tuttle Hall. The purpose of the dinner is twofold: to thank everyone who has made a gift or pledge to the 2025 Annual Campaign, and to deepen our Christian community. Wonderful things can happen when we sit down and break bread together. The dinner is free, but we will collect an offering as the Spirit moves you to help defray the cost. All we ask is that you RSVP so that we know how much food to prepare.

Finally, as one last pitch to bring you out on Sunday afternoon, allow me to repeat a story I told in a sermon not long ago. When our youngest son, Luke, was born he required a number of complicated surgeries to correct a cleft lip and palate. The procedures were emotionally draining for Stacie and me. What is more, we had three-year old James who needed our attention. We were exhausted beyond the normal fatigue of sleep-deprived young parents.

One Sunday evening, the youth group of the church where I was the rector was sponsoring a spaghetti dinner. Luke was eight-months old, and we had him in our lap. Another major surgery was weeks away. The person sitting next to us asked if she could hold the baby. Then the person next to her wanted a turn, as did the next person. Before we knew it, Luke was crowd-surfing through the spaghetti dinner. I looked halfway across the large room, and people were holding him up, making him laugh, and passing him along. It was a moment of deep relief for me. I saw our baby son not weighed down by the threat of another surgery, but as if he were flying through the air. I’ve always remembered the scene as a parable of Christian community at its best. Such moments are possible when two or three gather together in the name of Jesus.

See you in church,