Do Not Mess With the Woman's Auxiliary!

So, the electric company had to replace three transformers on the pole outside our church this morning.  I was sitting in the dark, reading a 1943 edition of our Diocesan magazine, “Church Life,” like you do.  And I ran across this  letter written to a movie reviewer at the Cleveland Plain Dealer.

June 1943

Church Women Protest Cleveland

Plain Dealer Writer’s Views on

Japanese Children’s Christmas Gifts

Dear Mr. Marsh:

On behalf of, the Executive Board of the Woman’s Auxiliary of the Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Ohio, I am writing to protest a reference in your recent “Moon Is Down” review in which you spoke contemptuously of people who send toys to Japanese children, as you heard “was done in one place.”

The one place this was done, Mr. Marsh, was the whole United States of America. And while we are a free nation it is the sort of thing that will always be done.

We have no wish to enter into any controversy with you on the subject of hate, though we believe plenty of proof could be brought to the argument for the other side.  As, for instance, the British have stopped the teaching of hate to commandos. We consider it spiritual immaturity to confuse hate of a loathsome disease with hate of those who have it. We recognize the need to exterminate the rabidly infected Nazi-Fascist, Black-Dragon ridden militarists, but we do not consider it necessary to hate each individual of the nationalities most affected.

We are not pacifists nor isolationists, Mr. Marsh, nor soft sentimentalists.  Many of us hated this Thing long before you, apparently, were aware of its menace to us-—in your own words you were a most ardent peace lover “before Germany marched into Poland and . . . . the Japs blasted Pearl Harbor.”  Do you think these were the cause of the war?

Many of us have hated this Thing since it started the downfall of Germany around 1928; through the invasions of Manchuria and Ethiopia, the rehearsal in Spain and war in China; through Munich and murder of Czechoslovakia, our hatred increased until we would go ourselves to fight the ugliness on any battlefront, if such action would help. We hate this cancerous disease wherever it is found--and it can be found even in Cleveland.

It is found, Mr. Marsh, in blind prejudice against children who happen to be born to a race with whose homeland we are at war.

1f you are well informed, you will know that most of the Japanese who were sent to relocation centers are loyal to the United States. Very many were born here and are citizens who surrendered their constitutional rights to protect their country from possible subversive activity by the enemy alien minority they knew existed among them. They gave up homes and means of livelihood and freedom itself to help beat Japan. Many are in the U. S. Army. The F. B. I. has now had time to double check on them and you can if you take the trouble, learn more about them from the War Relocation Authority office here in Cleveland.

The Relocation Centers are not beds of roses, Mr. Marsh. You wouldn’t like having to take your family and live in these barren quarters behind barbed wire and under guard. For the high percentage of professional people especially, life has become a pretty bleak affair. Christmas was coming, and there was nothing to brighten the season for thousands of restless children who had faith in Santa Claus and American Christmases.

The Women’s Department of the Home Missions Council recognized the desperate need of keeping this faith alive, and appealed to women of all Protestant churches all over the United States.  Catholic and Jewish women may have done the same sort of thing. The response was what Hollywood might term colossal. We had feared that the prejudice you reflected might prevent the success of the project. But toys and money poured in, and that Christmas in camp was proof to people in a cage that America is still a healthy-hearted nation. It was a little thing, but it came from countless people who had the vision of the real spirit of Christmas.

Anyway, Mr. Marsh, you may call this soft and pantywaist if you will. It is cheap and easy to lump all these people together and condemn them. The Christian way is harder and takes more courage--but it is the only way to free the future from the appalling effects of a moral sickness whose byproducts are hate and war and eternal tragedy.

We are proud of having had a small part in one action to rebuild hope and faith and love.

With best wishes, believe me

Sincerely yours,

JOSEPHINE V. COWIN,

National Executive Board

Woman’s Auxiliary, Protestant Episcopal

Church in U. S. A.

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Sally Stevenson

Sally Stevenson, July 11, 2018
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 23
Romans 8:14-19, 34-35, 37-39
John 14:1-6

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

 If you mention the name Sally Stevenson around St. Timothy’s Church, people will tell you two things:  Sally was amazing with kids, and Sally walked everywhere.  They didn’t always know where Sally was going, but Sally knew.  Both these things that everyone knows about Sally happened  before my time at this church, but they are still what she is known for.  Being great with kids, and walking everywhere.  If that’s the kind of thing people remember about you and me, we will have done enough with our lives.

By the time I got here, two years ago, Sally was already spending her days at Amherst Meadows, where I would visit her.  Sometimes she was at Mercy hospital for some sort of treatment, and I would visit her there.  As I sat with her, she would tell me about what worried her, and her hopes for other people’s futures.  But she always spoke with confidence about where she was heading, and that she would one day be reunited with her brothers, Tom and Bill.  Sally knew where she was going.

In the gospel reading we just heard, Jesus tells the disciples that he is leaving them, and not to be afraid because they know the way.  And Thomas speaks up and says, Lord we don’t even know where you’re going.  How can we possibly know the way?  And Jesus tells them, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”  The disciples did know the way, just as Sally knew the way.

Sally was amazing with kids, and she walked a lot, and she knew where she was going, because she knew the way.  And as Jesus says to the disciples, do not let your hearts be troubled.  In God’s house there are many dwelling places, and Jesus has come to walk with Sally to the place he has prepared for her, because she knows the way.  May God give us the confidence to know where we are going, and the comfort to remember that we know the Way.

Amen.

Mitzi Ruwadi

Mitzi Ruwadi, July 5, 2018
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 23
John 10:11-16

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I do not know much about Mitzi’s life other than what I have heard from others, or read in her obituary.  Her active years at St. Timothy Church happened before I got there, but I’ve been her priest for about two years.  I’ve visited her and Ray a few times, more frequently in the final weeks of her life.  But there are two things I know for certain about Mitzi.

First, she loved taking communion.  I don’t think she had the words for why the sacrament mattered so much to her—and, if I’m honest, I feel the same way.  She had a deeply spiritual experience every time she took communion, and it was an honor for me to be the one to bring it to her.

The second thing I know about Mitzi is that she loved the 23rd Psalm.  And many of us share her love of that little piece of poetry.  Maybe it’s the pastoral imagery.  Or maybe it’s the assurance of God’s presence in our lives.  Or may it’s just that final line, about dwelling in the house of the Lord forever.

But what I really love about Psalm 23 is the actual language of the part that gets translated as goodness and mercy following me.  The Hebrew word that becomes “following” is actually more like chasing, or hunting down.  Goodness and mercy don’t follow us, like a stray kitten.  No, God’s goodness and mercy hunt us down like a tiger.  We cannot escape them, even if we wanted to.

Mitzi lived her life hunted down by God’s mercy and goodness, and she did not mind getting caught.  And receiving that goodness and mercy from God, she turned right around and passed it on to others, her family, and friends, and fur babies, and of course her wonderful home health aids.  Mitzi responded to God’s love by passing it on to others, and I hope you will take inspiration from that and continue to do the same in your own lives.

Jesus said, “I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.”  Mitzi knows her shepherd, and her shepherd knows her.  May God give us all the grace to hear the Shepherd’s voice, and to be led to lie down in green pastures beside still waters, where Mitzi now rests in peace.

Amen.

Washington High School Baccalaureate, 2018

The Marriage of Douglas and Alana

The Marriage of Douglas and Alana
May 26, 2018, The Signal Tree
Song of Solomon 2:10-13; 8:6-7
Psalm 67
1 John 4:7-16
Matthew 5:13-16

Alana and Doug asked me to include a particular Robert Fulghum quote somewhere in the service, and since I know a good quote when I read one, I am happy to oblige:

"We're a little weird. And life is a little weird and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness- and call it love - true love."

And speaking of weird, how about this tree, huh?

I don’t know how many of you know anything about the Signal Tree we have gathered under.  If you read the plaque in front of it, you get the sense that it was some kind of navigation marker for Native Americans.  But others say it might have been used as a ceremonial place.  Some say it was trained to grow like this, and others say it could just be a freak of nature.  But no matter the reason it is shaped like it is, the one thing you can’t mistake is that it suggests that we are welcome, with its arms spreading out to embrace us this afternoon.

And for us, today, this Signal Tree signals something else: The place where two young people have decided to bind themselves together—against the odds—to promise to live with and for one another until the day they die.

Now THAT is something worth marking.  It is worth remembering, because it is worth noticing that people are still willing to hold hands and take a leap of faith into the unknown.  And as those of us who are married know, it truly is a leap into the unknown, like it or not.

These two make their promises in good faith, trusting one another.  And you have all gathered here as witnesses and cheerleaders, to help them along the way.  Cheering at times when they need it, consoling and comforting in the times they need that.  Sometimes, things work out exactly as we planned, sometimes not so much.  And sometimes even better.  And so please remember, that having your support will make a difference for these two.

It is fitting that Alana and Douglas have chosen to be married in front of the Signal Tree, because they are sending a signal to the world.  As we just heard Jesus say, You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house.

Douglas, Alana: You are the light of the world.  Because love is the light of the world.  You are proclaiming love, and commitment, and hope to all the world on this day.  Sending a signal as clear as this tree.  And along with everyone who has gathered with you today, I implore you to let your light shine, and give light to all the house.  We need that light in our world.  Today, we celebrate the light of your love.  May it burn the brightest of all!

Amen.

Mary Regula, 11/29/26-4/5/18

For Mary Regula
Isaiah 25:6-9
Revelation 21:2-7
John 6:37-40

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

We gather together on this day to commend Mary into the care of God’s loving arms.  There will come another day when we will gather to celebrate Mary’s remarkable life and incredible accomplishments.  Today, we have met in this holy place to be reminded of her deep and abiding faith in God, and—more importantly—to be reminded of God’s unfailing love for Mary.  There are three things I want to share with you this morning.

First, a greeting.  I did not know Mary for very long, in the scheme of things.  But every time I visited her, starting two years ago, right up until the time she stopped speaking, she would always take my hand, look me in the eye, and ask, “From whence have you come?”  The best name I have for this is, “Regal Curiosity.”  From whence have you come?  I always wanted to say, “from hither and yon, M’lady.”  But I always answered truthfully:  From St. Timothy’s Church.  And every time I gave that answer, Mary’s eyes would light up.  She knew the place well, and even as her memory slipped away, she still recognized the name, and she would smile at the memory.

Second, a poem.  The very first time I visited Mary and Ralph at the farm in 2016, I sat down with them to chat and to bring them the Sacrament.  Several times during that first conversation, Mary quoted from a Robert Browning poem.  She wanted to be sure I understood how important it was to her.  And she would stop the conversation, and look me in the eye and quote two lines:  “Grow old along with me.  The best is yet to be.”  She was so insistent about this, that I looked up the poem as soon as I had time.

It’s a l-o-n-g poem, but Mary knew the best part, which is the first stanza:  “Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand who saith, 'A whole I planned, youth shows but half; Trust God: See all, nor be afraid!”  Mary and Ralph lived together fearlessly, embracing a full life, trusting God, seeing all.  A whole life together as God hoped, and they lived all of it.

Third, the Sacrament.  From my very first visit, after Mary took the bread—the body of Christ—she would weep.  Uncontrollable tears streaming down her cheeks.  Every time.  These were sacred, holy moments, and no one dared speak until Mary would open her eyes again.  Taking Communion was a transcendent experience for Mary, and I was honored and humbled to be the one who was blessed to bring it to her, over those few short months.  If I ever doubted whether Jesus was truly present in the Sacrament, a short drive down to Navarre would set me straight.

The greeting, the poem, and the Sacrament.  These are the three things I will always remember about Mary.  And you could give these things different names: people, abundant life, and Jesus.  These are the three things that Mary was passionate about, and—it’s no coincidence—these are the same things that God is most passionate about: people, abundant life, and Jesus.  Mary lived a life attuned to God’s will.  She cared about people, she wanted people to live the fullest life possible, and she knew that, somehow, Jesus came to her in the sacrament.

Mary’s life was an inspiration yes.  But her faith in God is what made it so.  Jesus said:  “Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and anyone who comes to me I will never drive away.”  Mary surely has come to Jesus.  And if Jesus asks her, “From whence have you come?”  She can say with confidence, “From a life well-lived, and people well-loved:  a life well-pleasing to God.”

Amen.

Braden Ehmer, 8/17/93-3/29/18

For Braden Ehmer
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 46
Revelation 7:9-17
Psalm 23
John 11:21-27

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I never met Braden.  But I can tell by watching you enter this room today that he was deeply loved, and will be fiercely missed.  We probably all feel the same way today.  We don’t want to be here to bury one so young.  This is not the way things are supposed to go.  And yet, we have to be here.  For one another, and to try to find a way to honor Braden’s life.  At times like this, we have no words.  And so we turn to God’s Word, and we focus on the promises God makes to all of us.

As we heard from Isaiah, God will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death forever. 

And from the book of Revelation, They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. 

And, most importantly, from Jesus himself to Martha:  "Your brother will rise again."

We all struggle in life, through good and bad, because things do not always go as we intend.  Things don’t go as God intends either, because this world is not the way God wants it to be, intends for it to be.  Sometimes parents and grandparents outlive their children and grandchildren.  Sometimes brothers and sisters and cousins have to gather on a day like this and say goodbye to someone they love so dearly, long before they should have to.  And in the midst of that, Jesus says to us, your brother will rise again.  Your son will rise again.  Your friend will rise again.

We all struggle to believe in God sometimes.  But when we experience love, we experience God.  Because God is love.  The love you have for Braden and that Braden has for you is a gift from God.  Love does not die.  You love Braden forever, and he loves you forever.  Because of this, you will see him again one day.  I don’t know how or when—but I know that it is true.

This is our faith:  to believe that you will see Braden again.  Until that time, hold onto that hope.  The hope of Easter.  Remember Braden.  Live in the ways he has inspired you in your life.  None of us is perfect, but love is perfect.  Hold on to that love, hold onto each other, and hold onto the promise that your brother will rise again.

Amen