Many Christian feasts are associated with local traditions that make the feast unique to that region, and Lent is no exception. In Italy, holy water is passed out during Lent so that families can bless their homes. On a more gruesome note, some Philippine citizens actually endure a brief crucifixion on Good Friday. Many countries eliminate meat on Fridays during Lent, but in some countries beaver tail was considered “fish” since beavers live in water. On Bermuda, families fly kites made with wooden sticks on Good Friday to represent the cross on which Jesus died as well as his ascension. On Malta, some families visit 14 churches, with each church providing one of the Stations of the Cross. On Maundy Thursday in the Czech Republic, church bells fall silent, and children use wooden clappers to call villagers to services. In Bulgaria, the Lazarouvane festival is celebrated on the Saturday before Easter. Young girls walk through the village singing and decorating the village gates with willow twigs. If a young girl refuses to participate, tradition predicts that the girl will never marry. In Germany, Maundy Thursday is known as “Green Thursday”, and green foods such as salads and spinach are eaten.  

~Dr. Gil Haas, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church

Excerpts of a Sermon Delivered
 by
the Reverend Joseph C. Alsay
on
The Third Sunday in Lent
March 7, 2021

Exodus 20:1-17 & John 2:13-22                                                                                                         “House Cleaning”
 
For thousands of years, human beings have called out people from their midst to speak to and of God in the community, to help the rest explore and face the mysteries of God.
But such religious leaders often create ways to control this. We build boxes – temples, churches – and say they’re the only places to meet God. Once God is well-boxed, we make theology about what God says and does, controlling God for the people.
We religious leaders, and, let’s be honest, many religious people in general, can be fiercely protective of our God-boxes, of our right to have the final say about God, to control access. It’s a huge temptation, and we don’t like being challenged about it.
The Temple in Jerusalem was just such a box, like all made by peoples throughout history. Its leaders controlled the God-message, and access to God, and taught that in this place alone the true God was found.
So Jesus challenges the way they’ve cared for this God-box.
They’ve made a market out of a holy place, he says. Necessary things for sacrifice in the Temple are bought and sold within. Lambs sold for sacrifice, money changed from Gentile currency to Hebrew, and religious folks are making a profit. And the Son of God will have none of it. This isn’t what the house of God is for, he says.
This challenge to their authority, the driving out of animals, spilling of coins, and unmistakable rebuke is – no surprise – not well received. We religious people don’t like that.
Jesus is saying in essence, It’s time to do a little “House cleaning.”
Dealing with the clutter isn’t anything new.
Isn’t that what Lent is all about?
A season to engage in a Spring cleaning. A yearly taking stock of what gets in the way.
Anything that gets in the way of God.
All of the gods that vie for our attention, clutter our minds and get in the way.
You shall have no others gods before me. So begins the Ten Commandments. No problem right. We’re monotheists. We believe in one God. We don’t worship a golden calf. Our sophisticated worldview keeps us from silly superstitions. No idols on our dashboards.
But are we being duped? Theologian Paul Tillich defines god as whatever we make our ultimate concern. Even if you don’t believe in a god, you have one. Or maybe, many.
Sometimes gods come garbed in modern costumes and are defined as the “isms” that permeate our lives: racism, sexism, classism, ageism, nationalism, heterosexism, consumerism, militarism. There are many, many gods to which we bow.
So, there seems to be plenty of clutter and chaos in the Temple and Jesus is full of righteous anger.
In essence Jesus says. The Lenten call to get our house in order. Not only our residences. But our communities, our churches, our temples.
Our temples?
Hardly anyone, disciples included, understood him at the time. But it was profound. If Israel met God at the Temple, the true Holy Place, with the Holy of Holies, now Jesus claims that he is the new Holy Place.
Jesus who is the intersection between God and humanity. God is now with us, in housed in human flesh, able to be loved, touched, embraced and embodied in Jesus.
He is the locus of God’s presence.
But beloved in Christ, understand that body – that temple – is also us, we are the body of Christ.
This is our baptismal promise, too: you are God’s temple, the Holy Spirit lives in you. We walk our journey of faith dripping wet from the waters of our baptism, reminded that we are not our own. You are not your own. God lives in you, and will transform your heart, and your actions and life as you live bearing God’s Spirit in the world.
Yes, because we follow Christ, we know that to be God’s Temple in the world is to risk everything for the sake of those whom God loves. To walk Christ’s path, to sacrifice with our love, our lives, our hearts, our hands. Amen.


~ Fr. Joseph Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church

John 5: 19-20 (NKJV)
Then Jesus answered and said to them, “Most assuredly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of Himself, but what He sees the Father do; for whatever He does, the Son also does in like manner.  For the Father loves the Son, and shows Him all things that He Himself does; and He will show Him greater works than these, that you may marvel.”

Meditation
An earthly father figure can come in many forms -- a father, step-father, grandfather, uncle, friend, or another important influence. I was raised my entire life with my biological father at home. My wife and her father were separated for the better part of her childhood. The only grandfather she knew was out of state. An elderly neighbor named Mr. Rich fulfilled this role for my wife. 

My father taught me a great deal. He showed me how to tie fishing line and how to fix things. But it’s the things I watched him do that I remember most. How he treats others with kindness, his selflessness; those are the things I try to follow. Though I never met Mr. Rich, I can see the impact he made. He bought my wife her first Bible, paid for her violin, sent her to church camp, and did so many other kind things.

Just like my father, Mr. Rich’s kindness and selflessness really showed through. Our Heavenly Father has provided us the greatest example of kindness and selflessness through the sacrifice of His son, Jesus, so that we can have everlasting life.

Prayer
God, grant us the strength and wisdom to be examples of Your kindness and selflessness. In Jesus’ Name. Amen. 

~Submitted by Adam Yeakley, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church

​

In many churches we can find the symbols of a fish, a pomegranate, and a phoenix.  Christianity and fish are linked.  The Greek word for “fish” is ΙΧΘΥΣ.  From this, Christians made an acrostic: Ιησους Χριστσς Θεου Υισς Σωτηρ, i.e., Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.  Christ fed multitudes with fish, and he called his disciples, “fishers of men”.  If a Christian met a stranger, he might draw an arc representing half of a simple fish symbol.  If the stranger drew a second arc (completing the fish), both believers knew they were in good company.  The pomegranate as a Christian symbol is derived from the myth of Properspina who was fed six pomegranate seeds by Pluto, forcing her to live six months each year with him.  Christians adopted Properspina’s return to earth each spring to represent Christ’s resurrection.  The explosion of seeds from a cut pomegranate is likened to Christ bursting from the tomb.  The phoenix myth was also used by Christians.  Every 500 years, the single existing phoenix built a nest, set it aflame, and perished in the flames.  Three days later, another phoenix would rise from the ashes.  The parallel to Christ’s resurrection are obvious.  

~Dr. Gil Haas, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church

            LISTEN!!!
            “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
            Today is the second Sunday in our Lenten journey, a journey of 40 days.  A journey which calls us to listen.  We might recall Jesus’s journey into the wilderness for 40 days where he wrestled with what it meant to be the chosen one.  As Christians, we might be asking - what does it mean to focus on divine things.  This requires us to listen. 
            Then Jesus rebuked Peter and said to him,
            “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
            Today, we find Peter in trouble.  This exchange happens just 3 sentences after Peter has exclaimed with confidence, “You are the Messiah.”  What has happened that Peter has gone from being a mouthpiece to a tool of Satan. How did this happen?
            If we listen, Jesus tips us off when he says he “must be rejected”.  I would like you to place yourself with the disciples for a moment as you hear Jesus say, I must be rejected.  
(pause)
            What does Jesus mean?  
            While Jesus was here to share the good news of Immanuel, of God with Us, Jesus also knows he will be rejected.  That rejection was the path that had been laid out for him. 
            While there are many synonyms for rejection, I think a key element is not being heard.  I suspect all of us can recall a time when we felt rejected, of not being understood.
            I think Jesus’s rebuke has two parts.  One is of Love as he is asking Peter to get behind him as if to say watch me, follow me.  But there is also a harsh element in his response.  I think this reflects how important it was for Peter, the disciples and for us to understand.
            So how did Peter, who was there with Jesus, fail to hear?
            The disciples have been with Jesus for about 3 years and have witnessed many miracles.  They were there for the cleansing of the leper, the healing of the one that could not walk and the feeding of the five thousand.   Ironically, they were present when Jesus cured a man who was deaf.    
            Maybe the disciples should have signed up for that healing too. (HAHA)
            It is easy to see how Peter thought he had it all figured out. Jesus was the one.  Jesus was the one who would triumph over evil, who would not be defeated.  He was the expected king of the Davidic line who would deliver Israel from foreign bondage and restore the glories of its golden age.  Peter was thinking in human terms – where might and force are seen as the answer.
            Peter wasn’t listening. He could not understand Jesus’s announcement of his suffering to come.  Jesus was rejected because people expected a Messiah “perfect in power and perfect in goodness.”  Suffering and death were not supposed to happen to the Messiah.
            We too are often drawn to power as a response to the world.  We love our rules and the predictability they afford. The security of knowing how things should be done comforts us.
            Where Peter got into trouble is the same place we get into trouble; it is thinking that our ideas about rules and regulations and how the world operates should be reflected in the way God governs. We assume we know how God should act. And we stop listening.
            Like Peter, when we examine our hearts, we might realize that we, too, have sometimes wanted to take Jesus aside and rebuke him. 
Some of you may recognize these lines from a song by Lenard Cohen called, “Anthem.”
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack
A crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
            As many of you know, I have been involved in the IONA Formation process for the past several years, a large part of which is reading and writing and fellowship.  I am grateful for the opportunity to be part of this process; I have had a chance to study and work with some fine people. I give thanks to Father Joseph for his support and encouragement. I am thankful for the friendships at Saint Augustine’s. 
            A large part and maybe the most significant part of IONA is the ongoing act of discernment; of actively listening for and understanding your particular call.
While I’m getting better, I must admit, I’m not particularly good at this. I am often better at calculating than listening. But listening is required.    
            Listening is required of all baptized; all of us are called to engage.
            So who are the ministers of God’s Church? The Book of Common Prayer says: quote “The ministers of the Church are the Lay Persons, Bishops, Priests and Deacons.”  It is not by accident that lay persons are listed first. As Father Joseph will tell you, the lay people are the backbone of the Church. Accordingly, we are all called to be ministers.  We don’t need to be ordained.  We all are called to represent Christ; to bear witness to him wherever we may be according to the gifts given to us.
            I had seen my path as leading towards Ordination as a Deacon for a long time.  But as I listened, I understand this is not to be.  My call is much simpler – it is to do what I can, to ring the bell that can still ring.  I understand there is no perfect offering.  While one might see this change as failure, I see it as a course correction, an enormous gift.  Even the timing of this change during Lent seems so appropriate.  A time where we are especially encouraged to listen. 
            Listening can happen in many ways.  It can happen as the choir shares their prayers.  The Lenten reflections and classes offered by St Augustine’s provide an outstanding opportunity. There are many on-line opportunities too.  Listening occurs when we pray - which takes no special training.  For me, I strive to begin each day with listening and prayer.  Mother Teresa said:
"God speaks in the silence of the heart. Listening is the beginning of prayer."
            I understand my calling is to remain in lay ministry.  I recently re-read Martin Luther King Junior’s Letter from the Birmingham Jail. There he said, “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.  What affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”  We, as laity are called to take the Church into the streets, to carry out Christ's work of reconciliation in the world, loving our neighbor as ourselves and striving for justice.
            As I was reading the lessons for today, I was struck by the irony of the 1st line in Genesis. 
            “When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him….”. 
            Did you hear that!  Here is Abram, at the age of 99 – still listening.  And in the process, his name is changed to Abraham, establishing a new identity that God wished him to embody.  Here is a perfect example for all of us.  Listening should never cease.
            Sometimes we imagine life going a certain way.  We have these plans or expectations for how we desire the story to play out. Sometimes God has a different plan.  May we be willing to let go of the life we imagined for the life God has ready for us.
 
Let us Pray,
Dear God,
Help us to loosen the reigns of control on our lives. Rather than constantly tell you what we want, help us to listen to what you want and have for our lives.  Teach us to embrace with openness the life you have ready for us.
 Amen.

~Todd Olberding, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church

​~Excerpts of a Sermon Delivered
 by
the Reverend Joseph C. Alsay
on
The First Sunday in Lent
February 21, 2021

I Peter 3:18-22 & Mark 1:9-15                                                                                                         “It’s All About to Change”
 
It’s a rough entry into ministry for Jesus.
Wet from the water of baptism, the heady words from the Creator, whom Jesus calls Father, still warming his heart, “You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased”, now Jesus is pushed out by the third Person of the Trinity. “The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness,” Mark says.
Whatever happened in the temptation, the hunger and heat in the wilderness, Jesus comes out of it saying, “I’ve got good news for you to believe.”
Except there’s a little word that comes before believing: Repent.
That’s Jesus’ signature line, what the Gospels say he began with, and said throughout Galilee.
Metanoia. Turn your mind around. Turn your heart around. Turn your life around. That’s what he means. You can’t keep walking on the path you’re walking if you want to find the good news, Jesus says. Finding good news, believing good news, starts with repentance.
We don’t talk much about repentance with each other. Maybe it sounds too negative. Maybe it’s church-talk that we don’t really know what it means for our life anymore. But it was a cornerstone for Jesus’ preaching, the beginning to everything.
That’s what today is about. It’s a day where we confess our sin and begin a six-week journey with God, a journey of turning our lives around and seeking to live in God’s ways.
In short, we embark on a journey with Jesus through the wilderness, with the understanding that we are going to have be honest about ourselves and our lives.  
We sojourn toward a recognition that SIN is the word that best describes what we already know is wrong with our lives, what we know God sees as broken in us.
Today, we remind ourselves of our mortality, we face this truth: that because of sin, none of us is living through this. Sooner or later the words: “Earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust” will be said over each of us.
Today we tell the truth: you’re going to die. I’m going to die. We can’t change that.
So, today is about honesty: honesty about our sinfulness. Honesty about our mortality.
As we begin our Lenten journey, we begin with the truth.
We repent.
And that’s because, as Jesus said, the truth will free us. Free us to live a life worth living in the time we have left.
People who know they are about to die often find freedom to live.
So, if we know we’re going to die, what do we have to lose? How do we want to live? By clinging to possessions, to habits, to sinful ways of being that hurt us and others? By lugging around fears and worries?
Maybe today’s honesty is a gift: now we know we’re on a countdown, we can focus.
That’s what our Lenten discipline helps us learn.
The discipline of Lent is the discipline of a freed life. In which, as disciples we are being shaped into something new and different. It’s believing change happens! Hope happens! Grace happens!
It’s trusting that God can make something new and beautiful from the dust of our lives.

​
~ Fr. Joseph C. Alsay, St. Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church