The View from Bolton Street

Gathering in Lent: In our modern Christian tradition, we tend to think of Lent as a season of individual devotions.  Whether we are taking something on (Bible study, devotionals) or giving something up (chocolate, soda, alcohol), we view it as something we do on our own.  We focus on our own sinfulness, our own distance from God, and (often unwittingly) pull away from the broader Christian community.  

However, we are entering an election year and coming out of a very isolating pandemic, and all we have to do is look around to see more and more division.  War. Conflict. Partisanship. Racism. Bigotry. Anti-Semitism. Everybody wants to know what side you are on.  

All of this division can be well, quite isolating.  For that reason, this Lent at Memorial we are going to focus on how to come back together.  You will notice some small changes in worship: we will kneel together at the altar rail for communion; we will allow some additional time for prayerful silence during worship; and we will sing, pray, and eat together - including a weekly formation program hosted by the vestry after the 10:30 service.  

Of all the things we can do this Lenten season, let's be a community. 

The View from Bolton Street

A Time for Transfiguration

Why go up the mountain?

The story of the transfiguration is one of our treasured stories from the gospels. We hear differing but not competing accounts of this story in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke. Yet we never get an answer to the question of why. Why does Jesus go up the mountain? Why does he bring some (but not all) of the disciples with him?

Does Jesus know what is going to happen? Was this all a carefully orchestrated event that was preordained? Or was it a happy accident? Jesus and his disciples needed a break, they went for a hike and then all this happened?

Fortunately or unfortunately, we are not told.

I say fortunately because for us it means that both can be true! As we seek to bring about our own transfiguration as a community of faith, we can take comfort in the fact that Jesus’ transfiguration happened without any clear plan, and yet the Holy Spirit was definitely present in that moment! And we can also challenge ourselves to say that we should not run from the opportunities God has put before us. Or (as Peter attempted) to be content to just stay where we are.

This Sunday we have Mark’s version of the transfiguration story as our Gospel text. You have probably noticed that the veil has been lifted from the Triptych in the rear of the Church and you can expect to see more dialogue about this particular transfiguration in the coming weeks and months. As you may be aware, two years ago the vestry voted to veil the triptych until a decision could be made about its reinterpretation or replacement. The painting is a memorial to the Rev. Dr. William Meade Dame and his wife, Susan. Dr. Dame served for 45 years as rector of Memorial Episcopal Church and during his tenure aggressively sought to keep the church, the neighborhood, and the city of Baltimore segregated. He was an enthusiastic supporter of Confederate causes here in Baltimore, advocated taking the vote away from Black men, and supported a church and a community that invented housing segregation in the U.S.

It is not a bad painting on its own merits. It certainly could do with some restoration, and is a unique example of a minor late 19th/early 20th-century American painter, Frederick Lincoln Stoddard, who mainly painted murals and as a result, this is one of the few remaining examples of his large-scale works. It is, it must be said, a very white Jesus and the painting does not reflect who we are as a community or who we would aspire to be. It is possible that restoring the painting would bring out other colors, dulling the ‘white Jesus’ at the center, but the cost of such a restoration, $30,000 or more, maybe beyond our appetite or limited budget.

As we consider how might our sanctuary space be ‘transfigured’ - I invite you all to consider all of the transforming and transfiguring this community has undergone in the last 8 years. New members, revitalized worship spaces, new knowledge of our story and history, new programs, and new initiatives. We have changed how we worship during a pandemic, how we make music, and how we are led. How would you depict the transfiguration today? When you remember that Christ was transformed on a mountain, that his face changed, that he was blessed by our ancestors and by the Holy Spirit…. What does that look like to you? How would you draw that?

The View from Bolton Street

A Retreat? Already? Didn’t the vestry just START WORKING? WHY DO THEY ALREADY NEED A BREAK?

Okay, hopefully you aren’t thinking this, but maybe you are?  Why a retreat?  

Something that the vestry has noted over the last few years is that, in large part due to COVID, the connectivity between members of the vestry has really gone down.  We don’t get as much time together, don’t know each other as well, and don’t work as well together as we used to.  You might find this is true in other parts of your life as well.  Collective work, whether in the home, church, job or in the community, requires strong relationships, ‘bonds of affection’ as they are referred to in scripture.  No matter how much we think we can do things on our own, the reality is, we cannot.

In some ways, communal or collective work is like preparing a meal.  Lots of ingredients, different inputs, different methods, different inspirations all coming together to put food on the table.  So for the vestry, we need to get ‘back in the kitchen’ as it were and practice cooking.  Which is why I am very happy to have Derrick Weston joining us again this weekend both to facilitate our retreat and to preach this Sunday.  Derrick and his colleague The Rev. Anna Woofenden have just written a book called “The Just Kitchen” which can help all of us do just that.  

The vestry will be reading this this year and I hope you will consider joining us in this practice.  A few copies will be available for purchase this Sunday after services and you can also of course find a kindle version on Amazon. 

The authors helpfully remind us that every week we gather as a community of faith, set the table, and share a meal together.  But we don’t always come as prepared to the meal as we should.  This book invites us back into the kitchen to ensure that when we do come to the Eucharistic Feast we do so with Godly intentions of Justice, Peace and Community. 

Thank you Derrick for sharing with us and I hope you all can join us on Sunday.


The View from Bolton Street

Why An Annual Meeting?

When we gather this Sunday for our annual meeting, we will be taking part in a long Christian tradition dating back to the very beginning.  You might think that the Book of Acts is a record of the apostles ministry after the resurrection, or the story of the birth of the Church, or the story of Paul’s conversion and ministry to the Gentiles. And sure, those things are all in there - but it is REALLY about annual meetings (okay maybe not just that).  

Consider the decisions made at meetings in the book of Acts: the election of a new disciple, the first stewardship ingathering, the first church discipline, the election of Deacons to leadership, important decisions about what it means to be a Christian, what you can eat, how we worship, and how we live together. All came about because of… meetings.  

In Memorial’s own life, Annual meetings have marked significant moments in our common life.  In 2021, we committed to a five year reparations initiative, in 2018 (and 19 and 22 and 23) our youth voted for a zip line in the Church. We welcome new members, set priorities, affirm our leaders, and vote on changes large and small.  

I don’t know if Sunday’s meeting will be as exciting as some of those first meetings in the book of Acts, but it is important work in the life of the Church.  I am looking forward to it and looking forward to seeing you all there as well.

The View from Bolton Street

“The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

Jesus?!?

Well that is unexpected! The beginning of Jesus’ ministry in the Gospel of Mark seems to start in a very ‘un-Jesus’ way. 

Repent! Believe! 

We tend to, especially in the more liberal, mainline Churches, focus on the forgiveness, love, and compassion side of Jesus.  The loving the sinner, welcoming the outsider. This is the Jesus of the good Samaritan, The Gerasene demoniac, the prodigal son, the woman at the well, and so many other powerful parables from scripture. As a result, we don’t always know how to react when presented with the repent and return Jesus we see here. 

But can there be forgiveness without repentance?  Doesn’t the prodigal son have to first return home? The good Samaritan to cross the street? I know Christmas has just ended, but we are only weeks away from Lent, the perfect time to consider a ‘return’.  So I invite you to return to Church, return to a life in Christ, and return to deepening your relationship with the divine. It may not seem like quite the right time, but then again, when is? 

Yesterday’s snow day was a great example of this. Did I have all the snow gear ready? No. Did I even have a pair of gloves that fit me? Also no.  But it was time to go out in the snow because when else might I have an opportunity to play in the snow with my kids?  We don’t exactly get a LOT of snow around here!  So I went out for snowball fights, and shoveling and sledding, not because I was prepared, or even because I wanted to! But because this was the moment.  

Maybe this is your moment; to repent and return, to profess and believe, and to turn towards each other and love.  

The View from Bolton Street

“Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.”

1 Samuel 3:1

The introduction to Samuel’s “call story” (how he came to follow God) says quite a bit in only a few words. 

Vision is rare. Gods presence is lacking. Certainly much the same could be said of this day and age. We see few leaders casting visions of a hopeful future and more and more threatening the return of a problematic past.  We see fewer and fewer leaders listening for God’s word and more and more telling God what to say. 

What do we make of this modern world? Where everything is fixed, and any change - from positions to opinions to work to life - is seen as a threat? What do we do with a culture where mystery is frowned upon and the divine is increasingly circumscribed to a few hours on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday depending on the flavor of your faith? 

From time to time it is good to remind ourselves that we are not robots. That, in spite of our widget producing society, we are all thinking, feeling living beings who are filled with emotions, opinions, ideas, dreams and fears. That a call moment, like Samuel has here, can be a destabilizing moment.  And that God’s intervention in our ordered lives is likely to feel destabilizing, disorienting, confusing. 

Maybe you are feeling some or all of those emotions right now. Maybe God is calling you to something new. Maybe it is time to call back and say “Lord what would you have me do?” 

If you are interested in dipping your toes in the water, now is as good a time as any to explore some new volunteer ministries at Memorial. Have you ever considered what the view is on the other side of the altar rail? Could you serve as an acolyte? Aa chalice bearer? In the altar guild?

Is justice your passion? Talk to Lateya about joining the reparations committee? 

Are you a planner? Budget finance and buildings and grounds all need assistance. 

We are a small church - but a vibrant community. To stay that way we need everyone to pitch in and volunteer one way or another. So please prayerful consider how God may be seeking to use you at Memorial in the coming year.

The View from Bolton Street

2024 - Epiphany

“This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine”

We are watching my two year old niece this week and so I find myself singing a lot of old songs to her. There are of course classics like “bananaphone” and “row row row your boat”, and some family favorites like “the Marvelous toy” and “the unicorn song”, but one that really resonates with me this season is “this little light of mine.”

Maybe it’s because we are entering Epiphany, maybe it’s because we haven’t taken down the Christmas tree yet, maybe it’s because the Presiding Bishops movie is coming out soon, or maybe it’s because we are having a successful stewardship season and Memorial’s light can shine a little longer.

But I’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, it is because when everything is dark, and clouded and confusing a little light is a massive act of resistance.

Light in the darkness. It’s why I love silent night on Christmas Eve, it’s why the Gospel of John still sings to us, and it is how we offer hope to a hurting world.

By being the light.

I hope you will join us this Sunday and all of 2024 as we continue to bring light to Bolton Hill, West Baltimore, and the world.

The View from Bolton Street

If you spend time with children, you are familiar with the notion of “big feelings!” Young children (and sometimes children of all ages) have trouble managing their emotions sometimes and express them in less than helpful ways. During the Holidays many of us have “big feelings” whether it is because we are grieving, regretting, hurting or hiding. We might need a place to put those emotions, because tantrums aren’t nearly as acceptable as they were when we were little.

So thank you for joining us this evening as we gather to offer up our worries and concerns and hurts and wants this season and ask for a little bit of peace and light this Holiday season.

This service is intended as a moment apart from the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season to help us prepare spiritually and emotionally for the coming of Christ. So that we are able to open our hearts to receive the love of God.

In Christ,

The Rev. Grey Maggiano

The View from Bolton Street

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

1 Thessalonians 5:16

Everything is so busy right now!  It seems like December is just flying by! It will be Christmas before we know it.  And then 2024. And then Lent! And Easter! And…

It is hard to even pause to catch your breath.

So let me ask you a question… are you taking time to rejoice? To rejoice always? 

Because this is what God asks of us. To rejoice always. To pray without ceasing. To give thanks in all circumstances.  And yet…. Often… we are just. Too. Busy. Too stressed. Too angry. 

So as we find ourselves in the midst of the Holiday season lets consider some of the barriers to our rejoicing. What is stopping us? What is stopping you from rejoicing? 

Well  (gestures all around) have you seen (pointing wildly at the world) all of this!?! How can we rejoice with so much pain and hurt in the world? I read about another church suggesting Churches should not light the candle for the second sunday of advent, the Peace candle,  in honor of the war in Gaza.  And you might like that idea because everything seems so important, so immediate, so NOW. That, at least is something we could do. Right? Some action, however anemic, that we could take. 

Let us consider, however, all the other wars that have gone on during Advent. From year 2 to today.  We would be hard pressed to find a period when there was not a war going on, some of which our country was deeply involved in.  Yet we still kept candles lit.  We still prayed for the birth of Christ.  We still found light in our hearts.  We didn’t do this because we were ignoring violence, but in spite of it.  The light is an act of resistance against the terror and fear of this world. As you look around at all the terror in the world today (and it is terrible) from war in Ukraine and Israel to starvation in Afghanistan to deforestation in Brazil and Genocide in the Sudan, look also for the light.  

In the beginning, there was light. And it was Good. And that light continues to shine.  It shone after the floods. It shone ahead and behind of the Israelites as they moved from slavery to the land of promise. It shown around the city of Jericho and on the mornin when they found the empty tomb and in so many other times when things seemed very dark indeed. It shines inside each of us, and it shines out there amidst the peace makers, the tree planters, the life givers, the creators and sustainers of God’s creation.  Look for them. Be them. Share their stories and their work. 

Don’t turn out your light. 

The View from Bolton Street

Comfort, O comfort my people,

says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

and cry to her

that she has served her term,

that her penalty is paid,

that she has received from the Lord's hand

double for all her sins.

Isaiah 40:1

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, her penalty has been paid.

When it comes to Israel and Palestine these days, there is not a lot of space for tender words. There is judgment. Anger. Invective. Hate. Mockery. Tears. Pain. But very little tenderness.

Perhaps, to borrow from Otis Redding, we should try a little tenderness.

In this small piece of land live around 7 million Jews, the largest concentration in the world, with the United States not far behind. Those 7 million are European, African, Arab, and Asian. In addition, there are another 2 million or so Arabs of other religious backgrounds in Israel proper, and another 5 million in the West Bank and Gaza. There is a broader population of Palestinian refugees in Lebanon, Egypt, Syria, Jordan, and here in the United States who are in some status of exile or self-exile.

Fighting over this piece of land does indeed go back to Biblical times. These words from the prophet Isaiah speak of the pain of the people of Israel being held captive in Babylon and their yearning to return home. It has been variously conquered and colonized by Muslims, Christians, The Ottoman empire and the British. Since the founding of the State of Israel after the Holocaust there have been peaceful times and there have been violent times, and it must be said we are in a very violent time.

I do not write today to try and convince or convict you to take one side or the other in this conflict. I do not write to prove how one side has the superior claim to the land, or the better human rights record, or to prove who has suffered the most.

I also do not write with a grand proposed solution of how this all should work out. You could draw up a hundred different plausible scenarios but the real people involved would have to actually be willing to talk to each other to make any of that happen and right now that is not the case.

I write simply to encourage you, to encourage us as Christians, to try a little tenderness. Have compassion for an occupied people with corrupt leadership. Have compassion for a people who experienced a massive terror attack on civilians, where everyone knows someone who has died, and are now in the midst of a 2 month long hostage crisis. On one side of the fence people feel they have no home because it is no longer safe, on the other side they feel they have no home because it is no longer there. A population who feel it is a miracle they even survived a holocaust, and a people who feel like it will be a miracle if they can survive the night.

People who, on both sides, feel like no one believes them, no one listens to their story.

People who have been so hurt they see their neighbor as their enemy.

Comfort, O comfort my people,

says your God.

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,

and cry to her

that she has served her term,

that her penalty is paid.

There were no simple solutions to the Middle East conflict before October 7th. Things certainly have not gotten simpler since. But one thing we can do is to offer words of comfort. To reach out to people that we care about and listen to their stories. To hear their voices. To share the work of peacebuilders- like the Arava Institute, or Roots, or the Gaza Youth Committee, or the work of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem. Reaching out in love, especially across barriers of time and distance and difference, will have a much bigger impact than getting angry with people here.

Speak tenderly to those who are hurting right now. Be a bridge not a wall. This is the work that Christ calls us to do.