To the Saints in Santa Fe
These letters from Pastor Harry and church leaders explore the challenges we face as people of faith in a complicated and fearful world, not unlike the world that Paul faced, and not unlike the world that Dr. King faced down.
These letters are distributed to the congregation via our email newsletter. To sign up for our eNews, contact our Office Manager.
December 13, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, of whom at his birth the angels sang “peace on earth.”
We remember the victims of the Sandy Hook shooting.
Tomorrow, December 14, marks the 10th anniversary of the shooting that took the lives of twenty first graders and six teachers. Beyond comprehension. Beyond words. Beyond any notion we might have held of being a peace-loving nation, judging by the way we did nothing in its aftermath to keep our children safe.
I was visiting a church member in a nursing home that Friday morning when news of the shooting spread. The next day my wife Jenny and I attended a vigil where we joined fifteen others at the Agora in Eldorado silently holding candles under darkening skies. Sunday morning I revamped my sermon and invited folks to get involved with gun violence prevention, a cause we had worked on back in Cleveland. On Tuesday seven of us gathered in our home wondering what we could do. A few weeks later we merged with another group in Santa Fe that formed at the same time. While our group had yet to decide upon a name, the other called themselves New Mexicans for Gun Safety, evidently coined to keep things safe and not ruffle feathers. After the church shooting in Charleston, South Carolina, we changed our name to New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence.
We have tried to live up to our name ever since. We’ve learned a lot. We’ve faced great obstacles and we’ve made amazing progress. We helped to stop over ten legislative efforts by the gun lobby to increase their influence in New Mexico. We have initiated several programs which have touched many lives, especially youth, who are literally scared to death living in a world we’ve given them. One of our signature programs, Guns to Gardens, has gone national with gun buybacks being held from Maine to California, where unwanted guns are turned into garden tools, musical instruments, and pieces of art. A web of local groups and churches working on gun violence prevention is forming across the country. We are getting to know each other. We’re gaining momentum. We’re all trying to lean into the hope that things will get better, and we’ll all be safer. Soon.
I’ll stop here. Frankly, I didn’t mean to write this much. I planned to simply list the places of gun violence that made the news in the last ten years and add a brief comment. But the list was far too long, and it was personally too overwhelming to imagine the lives lost and others forever altered, even destroyed. All the places. All the people. Far too many to count.
On this tenth anniversary, more than anything, I want to stop counting. Not because I’m turning my back on the suffering and the scourge, but because I yearn for the day when there will be no more gun deaths to count.
Grace and peace,
Harry
December 8, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who is soon to be born into the world once again.
Oh, it’s been way too long since I have written! Apologies all around. Allow me then to make up for lost time and catch you up on a few topics of note.
Like Cuba! I hope you know by now that five of us went to visit our sister church in Sagua La Grande a month ago. It was my fifth trip to Cuba and the first since 2012. Without going into details, suffice to say, a trip like this is always a game-changer, an eye-opener, a heart-starter, and a memory-maker. The pace is slow, the people are lovely, and the Spirit is alive.
Now if you want to get the flavor of what I am talking about, please view the video from our visit.
Next . . . stewardship and pledging. I encourage you to make a difference in the life of this congregation, and its mission and ministry to the world around us, by making a pledge for 2023. Might my dream become reality this year, when every member makes a pledge, no matter how small or large. Many thanks to those who have pledged already! Together we build the Beloved Community.
Advent Creates New People. This phrase by Dietrich Bonhoeffer is guiding our days to Christmas. We become new people when we take Advent seriously and prayerfully. Don’t know how to do this or don’t really know what Advent is about? Then join me for the next two adult education classes this Sunday and the next, 8:30-9:30 am either in the Chapel or on Zoom.
It is so very good to walk with you on this journey to the manger.
Grace and peace,
Harry
October 20, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.
To mask or not to mask? That is the question many churches are asking now.
While it appears most of society has moved beyond masks and covid protocols, we have
continually tried to discern what is best for our congregation and those who are in our building.
We are most grateful for the members of the Health Committee, chaired by Jim Toevs, and
filled with people of experience in such matters, who have guided us through the entire
pandemic without, as far as I know, anyone getting Covid from coming to the church. Thank
you, thank you!
And now, session decided last night after careful deliberation to lift the mask mandate for all
activities, including worship starting this Sunday, October 23. Wearing a mask will be voluntary,
and your personal choice, with the caution that if there is a surge or a spike in cases, we will
reinstate the mandate. Other Covid protocols remain.
We expect all individuals to be fully vaccinated, boosted including for the Omicron variant, and
will continue to rely on the honor system.
We still encourage social distancing and if you are ill, have a cold, the flu, a fever, runny nose,
sniffles…STAY HOME.
So, there you have it. I can imagine some of you will be relieved with this decision while others
may choose the side of caution and refrain from coming. Certainly, do what you feel is best for
you.
Yet, I still dream of the day when such issues no longer face us, and we can move forward into
our calling to follow Christ and be engaged in the challenges of our day. We live in hope, we
work for better days to come, and will do so, at least for now, without being required to wear a
mask.
Deep thanks for your understanding and for weathering the pandemic thus far!
Grace and peace,
Harry
October 11, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who calls us to care for one another.
Pop ups and stewardship. They go together.
What’s a pop-up? They’re those periodic events sponsored by the Stewardship Committee
where we stand in front of the church on a Saturday morning and collect money or items from
the church and community for places such as Ukraine, coats for a local high school, food items,
etc. They don’t happen all the time but when they do, they have been a tremendous way to be
visible in the community and support worthy causes.
Our next pop-up kicks off our four-week Stewardship season this Saturday, October 15, 10 am
to noon when we will be collecting items for our Child Development Center. Please see in this
E-News the full list of items you can bring. And if you can’t come on Saturday, bring them on
Sunday as you come to worship.
What’s stewardship? It is a word that first appeared in English in the Middle Ages to describe a
person, a steward, who takes care of a large household. In church parlance it has morphed into
a Stewardship Drive where you are asked for money to support the church.
Not too exciting, right? So, let’s expand it a bit:
It’s an opportunity to engage in important work for you and the community.
It’s supporting an amazing and exciting vision. Ours is Building the Beloved Community.
We are investing the resources God has given us to bring love and compassion into the world,
something we seem to be sorely lacking these days.
We are planting seeds. What we do today, and for 2023, will be seen by our children and their
children, and the children of our CDC (back to our pop-up this Saturday!).
Pop-ups and stewardship.
And grace to you and peace,
Harry
September 15, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who welcomes us home with open arms.
My father would be 96 years old today, though he died a few months short of 94. I am in the
long line of folks missing both parents and trying to navigate life without them, and without
their wisdom and advice, their presence, their love. It is strange not to be a son to anyone
living, anymore.
Our story this Sunday, the Prodigal Son in Luke 15, revolves around two young men who still
have a living father. In this iconic story, we see these two sons acting in ways that we might do
ourselves, and our focus is glued to them. All the while it’s the father who shows us how to live
in the best of ways, in the worst of times.
I won’t give it away. Though you probably know what the father does, I still hope you will come
in person this Sunday to see for yourself at our Homecoming Service at 10 am at Federal Park.
Chairs under trees, tables of food and ice cream, Brooke Black’s baptism, new members
introduced, activities for children, bagpipes, trumpets and other brass instruments, the Chancel
Choir, a blessing from a traditional healer, hymns, prayers, a sermon as drama, and hopefully
you.
It’s one of those days when I will remember my own father and find ways to celebrate his life.
It’s one of those days when we can celebrate the life of our congregation.
It’s one of those days when we welcome home all of you who might have been away, with open
arms.
Grace and peace,
Harry
September 6, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who became the subject of many searches through the
centuries.
“Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”
In John 12:20-26 some Greeks come to a festival seeking Jesus. Stories preceding this scene
talk of Jesus’ growing popularity, leading the Pharisees to say with disdain: “Look, the world has
gone after him.” The Greeks pose their request to Philip who, in turn, goes to Andrew and they
both go to Jesus.
But the story never says they went back and brought the Greeks to Jesus.
That’s our story as well. We may seek Jesus, but we have never seen him. But what if we could
meet him? What if we could sit down and talk for a while? What if Jesus could hear our
stories, our questions, our hopes, our lives?
It’s a poor substitute, I know, but for two Sundays, September 11 and 25, we will meet Jesus
the best we can. We will spend the whole hour talking about his life, ministry, teachings, and
the ways that he still impacts our lives and the world. I will lead the class this Sunday, 9:45-
10:45 am in the Chapel and by Zoom, and the Rev. Sansom Williams will host another hour on
Jesus September 25, 8:30-9:30 am (please note the change of schedule beginning that day).
Together we will begin to paint a portrait of Jesus that will guide us through a new Adult
Education series called “The Radical Christian Alternative,” which will look at the way Jesus and
his followers, then to now, have responded to the major issues facing our society and the
world. Each of the three words of the series title are carefully chosen to bring us to a deeper
understanding of our own tradition and the ways we might approach issues such as violence,
exclusion, and climate change, to name only a few of the topics we will discuss.
O, I hope you will join us as we seek to see Jesus this year and hoping as well that he might join
us as we navigate through these challenging times.
Grace and peace,
Harry
August 11, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was known as the Prince of Peace.
How we need his spirit today as our society seems to be drowning in violence.
Truth be told, I wrote a letter to you this morning but tore it up. The words didn’t go deep enough to reach the crisis we are in. Unrelenting wars, dreadful violence, rage, lies, political acrimony, and, even of late, talk of civil war (what?!) in response to the FBI and its search of the former president’s residence.
How we need the Prince of Peace. How we need people to embody nonviolence which gives life to a tired and injured world. I have yet to find a better and more effective response. Nonviolence is not only following Jesus and Gandhi and King, to name three top practitioners and teachers of it, but it is without a doubt the most difficult task we are called to do, and the most courageous.
We can’t and shouldn’t do this alone. That’s why I am very grateful to a new group called Nonviolent Santa Fe (NSF), part of a national initiative by Pace e Bene to enlist cities across the country to promote peace. Bobb Barnes convened this group earlier in the year and it now includes members from across Santa Fe, religious and non-religious alike. Our session voted a few months ago for our church to be a partner.
What does Nonviolent Santa Fe do? Go to their website to get a fuller picture but, in the meantime, here is a sampling of activities: Extreme Risk Firearms Protection Order (ERPO) training on August 16, Kingian Nonviolence Training August 27, weekly vigils by Veterans for Peace, and an invitation to join the Nonviolent Santa Fe Zoom meetings held the first Tuesday of each month. NSF is also developing a 2-hour training as an introduction to nonviolence that they will bring to churches and other organizations.
Maybe you might wish to be involved. Maybe we start a peacemaking group here at church. Maybe it will spur you to think more deeply about how to bring nonviolence into your life. Maybe all these ideas and people and trainings and events will have a profound impact on our city, and on us. I hope and expect they will.
Violence kills and lashes out. It doesn’t care who or what is in its way. But when nonviolence shows up and gets in its way, the dynamics change. Systems begin to change. So do people. I daresay even the world does as well.
Grace and peace(making),
Harry
July 21, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who often dealt with Sabbath issues.
What if we had a day free from the internet?
You know, that hidden power that runs our lives, tells us what we should be doing, gives us much more information than we might ever want or need, and has such control that to even miss an hour or two means more work later, while we still end up feeling guilty for missing it.
Well, for much of yesterday in Santa Fe, the internet was brought to its knees and put out of commission by a dump truck which pulled down fiber lines at the corner of Cerrillos Road and Richards Ave. Say again who brought down the mighty internet? A dump truck?
For customers of Comcast and Xfinity it was like an unexpected day off from school. For many it was, I’m sure, a real headache as financial transactions couldn’t take place, expected work to get done didn’t, and the general inconvenience of not being connected to the world.
If you were one that had the day off, what did you do? Was it an annoyance or was it freeing?
I spoke with clergy colleagues this morning on our weekly Interfaith Leadership Alliance meeting, and they were still basking in the experience. Some read a book for the first time in ages. Another dealt with some long-awaited home repairs. One didn’t do anything, except enjoy a day free of demands. It was a gift, no matter how guilty we may have felt.
What if the church provided such a gift? To be a place of respite despite the world’s troubles. A place to restore our energy so we can better deal with the world’s problems. A place to clear our minds and talk about things that matter most in our lives. A place where we might be able to take a deep breath and be open to some joy coming our way.
Oh, but I get carried away. That was yesterday. Today the internet is back up. All has returned to normal. Things to do. Information to gain. A screen to look at. Work to accomplish. Hours to fill up.
Still, I will remember the day with fondness, when a dump truck helped to remind us of the importance of taking a break, a respite, a Sabbath, and the chance to dream again of what the world could still become.
Grace and peace,
Harry
July 7, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who spent his ministry addressing the needs of the people around him, and the injustices of the empire in which he lived.
My neck is a bit sore from turning constantly to face the next issue before our country and world.
Each time I began formulating a letter to you in response to, let’s just pick one, say, the Supreme Court’s decision on Roe vs. Wade, or handguns in New York, or weakening the power of the EPA (Ok, I picked several), another issue would rise up and eclipse the last one.
And just when I thought that gun violence was being put on the shelf for a bit, then comes the July 4th Highland Park shooting, on a quintessential main street in a beautiful northern suburb of Chicago just a mile south of where I lived in Lake Forest, the place of my first call out of seminary. One more town shattered.
When the world seems too overwhelming, too out of whack, and way too crazy I think of the Old Testament prophets. They have seen all of this before. They spoke up against power and injustice and suffered for doing so. It was a hard and dangerous life. Yet even though none of them applied for the job, they didn’t resign, and they never let down.
Amos is one of these prophets. Amos, of “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” fame. Amos, a shepherd and a dresser of sycamore trees. Amos, the one who called out Israel for being too complacent and its religious leadership for being too cozy and comfortable with the power brokers and their unjust ways.
It is this Amos I am spending time with this week. Although I went to him seeking comfort as well as inspiration for a sermon this Sunday, I am finding he’s not much interested in making me feel better. God told him to “Go!” and stand up to the injustices around him and I have this nagging feeling that we are being called to do the same.
Grace and peace,
Harry
June 9, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whom the early church called Lord.
Jesus is Lord. The word is kyrios in Greek which means, quite literally, the one who owns you. It is a well-known word in our faith lexicon, but such a strange word in our culture (no one owns another person, right?). I will let Diana Butler Bass take it from here:
“In a world where millions were held in slavery and millions of others lived in poverty and powerlessness at the bottom of a rigid social hierarchy, claiming Jesus as ‘Lord’ announced one’s liberation from oppression. ‘Jesus is Lord’ made sense in an empire of slaves, as submitting to his lordship amounted to spiritual freedom, especially in the new community called the church where, apparently, female slaves held leadership positions and Roman social status was upended.”
Does it make sense to use “Lord” today? It seems so wrapped up in male domination, power, and privilege, and we’re trying to free ourselves from that, aren’t we? Why even use “Lord” at all?
Saying “Jesus is Lord” meant you refused to say, “Caesar is Lord.” One was making a political statement. According to New Testament scholar N.T. Wright, “The emperor was the kyrios, the lord of the world, the one who claimed the allegiance and loyalty of subjects throughout his wide empire.”
“Jesus is Lord” is our allegiance and loyalty to a way that is counter to empire and power. It is a radical statement that lifts us above the fray of party politics and divisions, and the grip of violence and the allure of power, and compels us to work for, pray for, and live into a world of equity, justice, and peace.
We proclaim this every time we say the Lord’s Prayer. Recite it again, slowly, and examine the words we all too often say by rote. Recite “Jesus is Lord” slowly, as a mantra, and imagine a world where this is true.
The genius of the early Christians was their ability to take oppressive and life-defeating words and transform them into words that spoke of a new community. How we need such a community now.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 31, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose “Spirit is still at work in the life of the Church and the life of the world.” (Book of Order, W-1.0105.)
Ecclesia (accent on the si). This is the Greek word for church.
It is also the name of our summer Adult Education/Acts II gatherings on Sunday mornings, 9:45-10:45, in MacFarland Chapel and via Zoom.
Ecclesia starts this Sunday, June 5th, when we will be the church and respond to the events swirling about the world and in our lives.
We will discuss the events of the day. We will read and study that day’s scripture. We will share our joys and concerns, as well as prayers for the world. We will be the community of faith in fellowship with one another. We will be ecclesia, the church.
Worship, of course, has all those elements along music and liturgy and the offering. But Ecclesia will give us more time to talk and share and learn.
It will take place every Sunday when there is no other Adult Education/Acts II program. Note there are speakers and programs the remainder of June so please watch for the weekly schedule in the E-News.
I hope you will join us this Sunday. It’s Pentecost when we remember God’s Spirit swirling into our lives, forming the church, bringing people together speaking our own language and out of our own experience, and in that and through that perhaps even some transformation takes place. God’s Spirit has a way of doing that. How we need it now.
Grace and peace,
Harry
May 24, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.
Now, Uvalde, Texas. Reports say fourteen children and one teacher killed at an elementary school.
How long, O Lord?
How long until we stop this madness in our country?
How long, O Lord?
Harry
May 17, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, the one people call Savior.
Jesus as Savior. This is the theme for Sunday’s message continuing the series Freeing Jesus, based on the book by Diana Butler Bass.
If there is any title for Jesus that confuses, scares, and excites people, depending on how you grew up or view people, this is it. Jesus as Savior only shows up twice in Scripture–Jesus’ birth story in Luke and the scripture on Sunday, John 4:27-42–but it has had an outsized place in Church history and theology. It has split the Eastern and Western churches, diverted Christian folk to turn from the world’s needs to the promise of heaven, caused many a heated theological discussion in classrooms and kitchen tables, and left those of us in the church wondering what Savior really means and should we even bother with this notion anymore.
Especially, if you are living through these times.
We often get salvation mixed up with being rescued, but that is not what the word salvation means. According to Butler Bass it comes from the Latin word salvus which means “to be made whole, uninjured, safe, or in good health.” She continues: “It is about this life being healed. In this sense, salvus perfectly describes the biblical vison of God’s justice and mercy, peace and well-being, comfort and equanimity. This is the dream of a saved earth—one where oppression ends, mercy reigns, violence ceases to exist.”
Ah, that feels so much better to me. It’s my motivator to keep working in and through the Church. It’s wanting to be whole and safe and in good health and live a life of integrity in pursuit of Shalom and God’s mercy and justice in the world.
This definition of salvation has little to do with heaven but it sure will make earth seem more like it.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 19, 2022
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was a friend of tax collectors, sinners, and a frightened boy with cancer.
Jesus as Friend. This is the first of six ways we will look at Jesus in our new sermon series Freeing Jesus.
I haven’t thought of Jesus as a friend for a long time. Maybe seminary squeezed that relationship out of me, preferring instead a more theologically sophisticated understanding of the second person of the Trinity, this fully human, fully divine figure, the many atonement theories surrounding him, the focus of our Christology exams and the lead character in the exegesis of gospel passages. Still with me?
But Jesus as friend was the first way I knew him. Perhaps that is true for you as well. I prayed to him every night, with my mom watching over my prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, may love be with me all the night, and keep me safe till morning’s light. Amen.” Jesus would keep me safe; I was sure of it. He was the saver of lost sheep, the one who welcomed children with arms wide, the one who took time to listen to prayers, and who loved me, for the Bible told me so. I think I knew it even without the Bible telling me.
The night before an operation to discover the extent of cancer in my body– I was only 17 and couldn’t understand why this was happening to me—I prayed to God that I might make it through the operation and be cured. As I lay in my hospital bed, frightened, alone, with a streetlamp outside my window casting shadows, I heard a voice (I did, didn’t I?) somewhere to my right by the door, responding to my plight, calming me, and reassuring me, that love would be with me all the night, and keep me safe till morning’s light. And even longer.
Jesus as friend doesn’t linger long in theological debates, nor does he seem interested in being the subject of ordination exams. He would rather stay up late and listen to our fears, accompany us when our tomorrows seem bleak, and stay in touch even when we are too busy or distracted to notice.
Welcome back, old friend, though you’ve been here all along. And that was you, wasn’t it, in my hospital room that night long ago? I meant to thank you for staying up with me. You got me through it and I’m OK now, but then again you probably already know.
Grace and peace,
Harry
April 5, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who rode into Jerusalem and people placed their cloaks before him.
This Sunday is Palm Sunday with one service at 9:45 am in the Sanctuary. At 10:15 am a bagpiper will lead a procession to the Plaza where we will hold a worship service with the Cathedral Basilica and Holy Faith Episcopal, with tourists and other plaza-goers mixed in. Like the old days!
We haven’t done this since 2019 and I wonder if Jesus will be any different this time. Will he take a different route now that we’ve lived through a pandemic? Will he come with more urgency, on a horse perhaps, with the war in Ukraine on our minds? Will he hand out leaflets on what this post-pandemic church should look like so we might better use our time?
No, probably not. The story is the same as we have known, yet each gospel gives its own version of the day. In this year’s lectionary reading from Luke 10:28-40, for example, there are no palms, only cloaks spread on the ground. Jesus rides on a colt, not a donkey. No one is shouting “Hosanna” but shout “Blessed is the king” and “Peace in heaven.”
Dig a little deeper into Luke’s story and we find that riding into the city on an animal was contrary to law and custom. Pilgrims were expected to enter the city on foot. Luke notes the animal itself had never been sat upon. Unbroken animals were used in sacred functions. It was also fit for a king because a true king would never sit upon an animal that had been ridden due to the possibility of contamination and disease. Spreading cloaks happened only before a king so he might walk on them.
It sounds to me that something sacred is going on here.
I hope you will join us and line the route and get a glimpse of Jesus as he heads into town. The rest of the week is not pretty, we know the stories to come, but on this shining day we will squint in the sun and get a wisp of Jesus coming towards us as we stand among the crowd, wondering once again if this might be the day the world turns and embraces peace and unity, justice and compassion.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 24, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who was seen as the Light of the World.
“I love you, Lord Jesus, . . . you who are a gentle as the human heart, as fiery as the forces of nature, and intimate as life itself. . .. I love you as a world, as this world which has captivated my heart.”
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), French scientist, Jesuit priest, and mystic, wrote these words on Easter Sunday, 1916, in the battle of Dunkirk where he was a stretcher-bearer in the French army in the bloody trenches of World War I.
How, on a day like that, could he write such words? How, in a day like ours when the humanitarian crisis in Ukraine is worsening, might we even imagine writing something like that? Or even read it without rolling our eyes, or wonder what we are missing in not seeing the world this way?
Teilhard’s love of the world, John Philip Newell says in his latest book, Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul, “was inseparable from his awareness of the world’s sufferings. . . . Love of Christ and love of creation, love of heaven and love of earth, love of spirit and love of matter—inseparably intertwined.” Teilhard continues: “It is this I now see with a vision that will never leave me, that the world is desperately in need of at this very moment, if it is not to collapse.”
What if we were to see the light of the sacred in all things, so that the world might not collapse? In our own day, in its routine, in that which we dread, in images we wish we could turn away from, in bombed out apartment buildings and hospitals, in zoos where animals are frightened, amid war in a far-off country that seems so very close to us?
What if we could be well only by seeing this Light in one another and in the earth?
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 8, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, as we observe International Women’s Day.
Last Sunday we celebrated the gifts of women by looking at Brigid of Kildare who stands at the threshold, or meeting place, of the opposite dimensions of life–light and dark, rich and poor, feminine and masculine—and reminds us of the sacred at the heart of all life.
Today, shaken by war in Ukraine, we look to George MacLeod (1895-1991), a Celtic prophet in 20th century Scotland who often greeted people on the street with “Do you believe in nonviolence?”
In 1938, when the world was preparing for war, MacLeod was preparing to build a community of radical nonviolence. Using theological students and unemployed craftsmen in Glasgow MacLeod set off to rebuild the Abbey on the island on Iona on the west coast of Scotland. In this work he saw the rebuilding of the spirituality of St. Columba and the Celtic Christian vision which embraced the dignity of all humanity and the sacredness of all of life.
How did MacLeod become such a figure of nonviolence and action? He was born into an aristocratic family where, it is said, maids provided menus for every meal. He attended the best schools including Oxford, became a British officer fighting in the trenches of France in WWI, and was decorated for his bravery. It was on a transport train filled with soldiers, many of whom were wounded, that changed the trajectory of his life. Surrounded by suffering, he became aware of the presence of Christ who was not above such pain but in the midst of it. Then and there he knelt down and gave himself to Christ.
After the war MacLeod trained for the ministry and became assistant minister at St. Giles in Edinburgh where his remarkable oratorical abilities soon became known. A rising star in the Church of Scotland, where it was thought he could have any pulpit in Scotland, he instead chose the poorest parish in Glasgow and began a life caring for the poor in the slums of Scottish cities and communities.
On Sunday I will talk more about this remarkable man, his commitment to justice, how he addressed the needs of humanity, the environment, worked on nuclear disarmament, and lived this life of nonviolence. How his voice is needed today.
Grace and peace,
Harry
March 1, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who consistently and relentlessly pursued peace.
All eyes have turned to the Ukraine with the fervent hope that peace will prevail. Just how that will happen in the midst of unspeakable violence is yet to unfold but we do know and see that such violence has caused unspeakable pain and destruction.
Might it also wake us up to the critical role of nonviolence?
“War and violence have failed to bring about a world of peace,” writes peace activist Father John Dear in his book The Nonviolent Life. “Creative nonviolence, on the other hand, works wherever it is tried.”
So, let’s try it, and keep trying it, and then when we forget or slide a bit, be reminded that nonviolence works. It is a shared by all spiritual traditions and all peacemakers.
A Wednesday Peacemakers Lenten series begins tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, 12-1, Noon to 1:00 pm, and continues each Wednesday through the Lenten Season on Zoom. Led by the Rev. Bobb Barnes, it will focus on the seventh Beatitude of the nonviolent Jesus, using the John Dear book, The Nonviolent Life. Free copies of the book are available in the church office.
I also call your attention to a new Sunday morning Lenten Adult Ed Class begining this Sunday, March 6th, called “Lent Within a Culture of Violence” with various speakers from across our community. Please scroll down this E-News for a description of the classes.
Join us! There is so much to learn about nonviolence and the time is now to put it into practice. It’s one way we can stand in solidarity with the Ukrainian people and others across the world who are suffering from violence that seems to never end.
Grace and peace,
Harry
February 24, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who taught us the ways of peace.
My heart breaks hearing about the Russian invasion of Ukraine and the unleashing of violence and loss of life that has already begun. At this moment, I am not sure what to do about it, or how to respond beyond the grief I feel about another war in the world.
So, I share another moment that happened yesterday morning. While browsing through the influx of emails which I try to do every morning before meetings and zoom calls begin, I glanced over the subject line of one which read “You won Presbyterian Pe. . ..” Thinking it was just another marketing ploy, perhaps I won a Presbyterian cruise, I mused, having no idea what that means, I moved down the list.
Then Miranda, a good friend and co-president with me of New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence, called and casually mentioned that we had won some award from Presbyterian Peace Fellowship. Sure enough, we did.
I went back and read the email: “On behalf of Presbyterian Peace Fellowship, we want to award you with the 2021 Peaceseeker Award! Thank you for your work of peace and justice.”
Presbyterian Peace Fellowship is one of the oldest and most respected peace advocacy groups in our denomination and in the country, doing amazing work since the 1940s on opposing war and nuclear weapons, reducing gun violence, addressing climate change, working for peace in Palestine and Israel, and operating their accompaniment program in Colombia and along our border.
Miranda and I are the 2021 recipients of this Peaceseeker award for our work with New Mexicans to Prevent Gun Violence. Earlier recipients include John Fife, Eugene Carson Blake, William Barber, and Mr. Rogers and we are most humbled to be included in such an esteemed list as we remember their contributions to peace. We are grateful as well for all the volunteers in our group working on gun violence and long-time supporters like this congregation, one of the places in which this group began.
Let us all continue to seek peace. A Wednesday Peacemakers Lenten series begins on Ash Wednesday next week and a Sunday morning Adult Ed Class begins on March 6th called “Lent Within a Culture of Violence.” I hope you will consider being part of these classes.
I’m still not sure what to do about Ukraine. Hopefully these classes will help. Maybe one day, just maybe, the world will cease pursuing war and try seeking peace instead. May it come soon and may we work to make it happen.
Grace and yes, peace,
Harry
February 22, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who led Peter, James, and John up a mountain to pray.
When they got to the top the story became one of Transfiguration, not prayer, and it has mystified and intrigued people ever since.
Transfiguration is an enticing word but if you were to scan Luke 9:28-36, our scripture for Sunday, you will not find it in Luke’s telling of this rather strange story of Jesus and his three companions on a mountaintop where they see Moses and Elijah, get enveloped by clouds, are terrified, hear God’s voice, and keep silent after it’s over. Other Gospels use the word transfiguration, but Luke simply says, “The appearance of Jesus’s face was changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” No, it is not so much “Transfiguration,” as it is “glory.”
Glory speaks of the presence of God with God’s people and is seen in Jesus’ clothes becoming a dazzling white, as white as those worn by great rulers on festive occasions of state, or like the garments of angels. Glory was the shining face of Moses when, in an earlier encounter, God had spoken to Moses face to face. Glory is the sun shining over the Mount of Olives into the entrance of the Temple and gleaming off the golden walls inside the sanctuary, which it does only once a year on the first day of Spring and was so important to the Jewish people that they called it, “the Lord suddenly appearing in his temple.”
We could rightly call this Sunday, the one which immediately precedes Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, “Glory Sunday.”
The world needs some glory these days. It’s been dwelling in the dark far too long. We could use some glory ourselves, some light to lift the anxiety that has befallen many across our communities with the pandemic and social upheavals. Or glory to shed light on the tremendous challenges facing our society and the wisdom to address them.
You are invited to come to worship this Sunday to feel a little light on your face as we sing and pray and be together. The Rev. Jim Brown, known to many of you as friend, colleague, leader in our denomination, and former pastor of this church, will be preaching and leading the services in my absence as I will be away in Arizona at a gathering with John Philip Newell.
Yet, glory’s address is not necessarily a mountaintop or worship service, but can be right where you are, and who you are. One of my favorite phrases that I have shared often is from second century church leader and Celt, Irenaeus: “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” Perhaps that’s our mountain to climb.
Grace and peace and glory,
Harry
February 17, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, whose ministry addressed the needs of the poor and disenfranchised.
The Carmina Gadelica.
It means “The Song of the Gaels” and is a collection of poems and songs from the western islands of Scotland, some dating back to the sixth-century community of St. Columba on the isle of Iona. They are part of an oral tradition passed down through the generations and talk of the sacredness of nature, the changing of the seasons, the rising and setting of the sun, of birth and death and all life in between.
Had Alexander Carmichael (1832-1912) not collected and written down these songs and prayers the culture of the people who prayed and sang them might be lost to us today. Starting in the 16th Century with the Reformation, opposition to Celtic teachings and culture intensified so that its music, language, and poetry was denounced and forbidden. The Highland Clearances in the late 18th through the first half of the 19th centuries tore people from their ancestral lands, weakening the clan system, converting farms from growing food to raising sheep to bring more profit to powerful landowners, all resulting in violent resistance and the destruction of a culture. It was an attack on the very soul of the people.
It is a story all too familiar to indigenous and marginalized people across the world and through the centuries. As Presbyterians, whose roots are in Scotland and whose religious heritage includes this Celtic experience, we share this story.
In a time of great change and challenges, when divisions threaten the fabric of our culture, and its very soul is being attacked, it would be good to remember the poems and songs of the Carmina Gadelica that kept alive a vision of the sacredness of the earth and every human being..
Grace and deep peace to you,
Harry
February 10, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ.
“And heaven and nature sing.” Repeat three times and you’ll start singing as if it was Christmas.
How odd to sing these words in February! We will sing it this Sunday to remind us that heaven and nature are not opposed to one another, nor is the physical opposed to the spiritual. This is one of the central insights of Celtic teaching.
One of the great Celtic teachers is the 9th Century wandering scholar John Scotus Eriugena. He taught that the light of divine is like a subterranean river flowing through the body of the earth and of everything that has being. God is the flow of life in all things (the Greek verb theo means “to flow or run.”).
Everything is a theophany, a showing of the divine.
Seeing everything as sacred was a threat to imperial Christianity and, like Pelagius four centuries earlier, Eriugena’s writings were banished, not only in his lifetime but even seven hundred years later as well!
In our world of opposites and division, when people are often looked upon as a number or a commodity, and the earth is trampled in heartbreaking ways, how refreshing it is to read about Eriugena and his belief that God is the essence of all things.
We will talk about this on Sunday and how this can awaken us to the sacredness of the earth, as well as provide a challenge to the religious, political, and social systems that have, in John Philip Newell’s words, “recklessly ignored or denied this sacredness and are imperiling the very future of the world.”
This is all part of my sermon series called “Reawakening to the Sacred” which will take us through Easter.
And by then I hope it won’t be so strange to hear “and heaven and nature sing” ring out throughout the sanctuary.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 27, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who practiced the sacredness of all life.
Reawakening to the Sacred. This is our theme and our pilgrimage from now through Lent.
John Philip Newell in his book Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul, suggests that “we are in the midst of a great awakening to the sacredness of the earth and the human soul.” Oh, I hope so. I’m not sure how much longer we can keep going down the path we are on.
The good thing is we do not have to invent a new way of seeing and being to help us get out of the mess we are in. This Celtic tradition of seeing all the world as sacred, caring for the earth and one another, and practicing justice and peace, has unfolded in the Celtic world over the centuries, from pre-Christian times to the present.
The term Celts was first used around 500 BCE. The Greeks called them keltoi, or Celts, while at the same time the Romans referred to them as galli, or Gaels. They spanned the entirety of middle Europe from what is now Turkey to the Atlantic coastline of present-day Spain. Today we see its influence in the outer reaches of the British Isles and increasingly, though gradually, in churches in the United States.
The Celtic tradition is part of our Presbyterian heritage but was lost, beaten out of people, put down, disgraced, and banished by those in power, believing if Celtic wisdom was allowed to continue it would be harder to exploit both people and the earth, as empires are prone to do.
Fortunately, it could not be totally beaten out of people because it is part of our very souls. In the last several decades this Celtic wisdom has been rediscovered and provides a way forward to address the immense needs in the world crying out for help.
So, we start, now. My letters to you each week through Lent will introduce you to Celtic teachers and their teachings, and each Sunday I will blend this with scripture in my message and the liturgy. Our Celtic Evensong services on Wednesdays, which John Philip Newell helped us begin over five years ago, adds to our practice and learning.
May we begin to reawaken to the sacred and, by doing so, take our place in building the Beloved Community and healing the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 18, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who opened the scroll, found Isaiah 61, and gave us his blueprint for ministry.
There’s no place for vengeance.
We don’t see this when we read Sunday’s scripture, Luke 4:14-21, because Jesus ends his reading before it gets to the vengeance part. The Spirit of the Lord will be with him. Check. He will bring good news to the poor. Check. He will proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind. Check. Let the oppressed go free. Check. And proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Check, and thank goodness. The end. He rolls up the scroll and gives it back to the attendant. Done.
I wonder if the people in the synagogue caught the omission. Jesus left off “and the day of vengeance of our God.” He closed the book right after reading all about the mercy of God. He stopped Isaiah in mid-verse.
What’s more, the crafters of the lectionary, used the world over, stop the story here and we do not see the reaction of the congregation. Our usual translations show appreciative listeners speaking well of him and his gracious words, but this gives quite the wrong idea. The Greek does not mean words of charm or gracious words but “words of God’s mercy.” In other words, the people in the synagogue were astonished that Jesus spoke of the mercy of God! And what about the vengeance?!
The people we so enraged that they demanded to know by what right did Jesus, the carpenter’s son, have to say these things. How dare he speak this way! So, they moved to throw him over the hilltop.
Prophets get thrown over the hilltop for daring to say such things. Jesus survived this assault from his own townspeople, only to be killed a few years later, spurred on by an angry mob and at the hands of Empire. Martin Luther King Jr. was thrown over the hillside, the last accompanied by a bullet that ended his life. How many others have died working for God’s mercies? How many still will?
When will we stop the violence? When will we abandon vengeance as a proper response?
Jesus says there is a better way. He read it straight out of Isaiah and then put his own spin on it and spent his life teaching us that his message at the beginning, and at the end, and everything in between, is about the mercies of God that we are to live and share with the world.
Grace and peace,
Harry
January 4, 2022
Dear Saints in Santa Fe and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name of Jesus Christ, who saw all the world as sacred, belonging to God.
There were Jesus flags there.
Thursday marks the one-year anniversary of January 6th and I am still saddened that Jesus’ name was seen and used in any way for this violent assault on the Capitol.
Yet Christianity has been attached to violence and oppression through the centuries, ever since the Roman Empire took over Jesus’ nonviolent movement in the early 4th Century CE.
In his most recent book, Sacred Earth Sacred Soul, leading Celtic teacher John Philip Newell writes about Pelagius, a monk from Wales (ca. 360-430), who he claims is perhaps the most misrepresented Christian teacher of all time, a misrepresentation that continues to this day.
Pelagius was maligned, banned, and excommunicated for believing that what is deepest in us is of God, and not opposed to God (which was the official stance of the Roman Empire Church). His theological opponent was St. Augustine of Hippo (ca. 354-430) who was, Newell writes, “preparing the ground for imperial Christianity’s doctrine of original sin, the belief that at birth we are essentially bereft of God rather than born of God—corrupted, not sacred.” Such a stance, it turns out, was convenient for imperial power as it allowed for the exploitation of both humans and nature.
What harm this has done through the centuries since! Instead of original blessing, we have original sin. Instead of seeing all of creation as sacred–people, animals, nature alike–we are witnessing the effects of seeing the world as profane, competitive, with little regard for others, and to be used for our own desires.
Pelagius counters, “When Jesus commands us to love our neighbors, he does not only mean our human neighbors; he means all the animals and birds, insects and plants, amongst whom we live.” God’s spirit is in all living things. How far we have strayed.
Imagine what the world would be like if we took this to heart, and believed God’s spirit is in all things? Imagine how we would then treat one another? I might even imagine there would be no January 6th as we have come to know it now. It would just be an ordinary day when we lived in peace, cherished the common good, and looked out for one another and all creation.
Grace and peace,
Harry