It’s that time of year again — back to school! In the spirit of giving, All Saints’ has launched our annual school supply drive for the students in need at Larchmont Elementary. The generosity and love from our congregation is deeply valued and appreciated by those kids and their families who need it most. Please open your wallets and hearts to help us fill up the supply wagon in the Narthex. Supplies will be accepted until the end of August. Lists of supplies needed by grades are below. God bless you all.
The Gospel first came to the northern English in 627, when King Edwin of Northumbria was converted by a mission from Canterbury led by Bishop Paulinus, who established his see at York. Edwin’s death in battle in 632 was followed by a severe pagan reaction. A year later, Edwin’s exiled nephew Oswald gained the kingdom, and proceeded at once to restore the Christian mission.
When I drove into the church parking lot a few Fridays ago, I didn’t expect to see an abandoned car sitting in the handicapped spot near the entrance to the sanctuary. Occasionally we’ll find a car in the lot, usually empty and gone in a day or two. This one was unique. An older silver Corolla, beat up with the hood popped, it was set apart by the two bicycles tied to its roof and the array of blankets, clothes, and an odd collection of undefinable things tied to various parts of the vehicle. The trunk was open, some kind of ancient engine sticking out.
Slave births were recorded under property, not as persons with names; but we know that Harriet Ross, sometime during 1820 on a Maryland Chesapeake Bay plantation, was the sixth of eleven children born to Ben Ross and Harriet Green. Although her parents were loving and they enjoyed a cheerful family life inside their cabin, they lived in fear of the children being sold off at any time.
I spent some of June 18’s sermon talking about Paul Jones, Bishop of Utah from 1914 to 1917. My interest in him stems from my time as the archivist at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Salt Lake City, before I was ordained. That church had a vault about two floors below ground level, and I would wander down there on my days off and organize whatever I found. My discoveries included their vestry’s stern denunciation of the Bishop for his comments opposing the United States entry into World War I.
In the second century, after a brief respite, Christians in many parts of the Roman empire were once again subjected to persecution. At Lyons and Vienne, in Gaul, there were missionary centers which had drawn many Christians from Asia and Greece. They were living a devout life under the guidance of Pothinus, elderly Bishop of Lyons, when persecution began in 177.
“Now who will harm you if you are eager to do what is good? But even if you do suffer for doing what is right, you are blessed.” These were the opening lines in our Epistle on May 14. Peter is telling us to do good. Just as Jesus did. “Do not fear what they fear, and do not be intimidated, but in your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord.”
Rarely in the history of the Church has the course of its development been more significantly determined by one person than it was by Athanasius in the fourth century. Gregory of Nazianzus called him “the pillar of the Church,” and Basil the Great said he was “the God-given physician of her wounds.” Athanasius was born about 295 in Alexandria, and was ordained deacon in 319. He quickly attracted attention by his opposition to the presbyter Arius, whose denial of the full divinity of the Second Person of the Trinity was gaining widespread acceptance. Alexander, the Bishop of Alexandria, took Athanasius as his secretary and advisor to the first Ecumenical Council, at Nicaea in 325, which dealt with the Arian conflict.
On April 16th, when we celebrated the Second Sunday of Easter, vandals attacked Temple De Hirsch Sinai, the largest Reform Jewish synagogue in Seattle. On the evening before Holocaust Remembrance Day, two men spray-painted several phrases and images, including “Ireal aas (sic) lied” and a Star of David, “apartheid” along with indecipherable words and a picture of a face with “Im (sic) still here” underneath. In a not terribly literate way, the point was made. It was an attack on the nation of Israel but done in such a way, in the courtyard of a synagogue, as to assault all Jewish people. That is anti-Semitism.