Staff Picks for Giving Back this Christmas

It's nearly Christmas and you haven't finished your gift-giving purchases? That's okay, neither have we. With less than a week to go, we thought we'd offer you some ideas for those hard-to-buy for people, or for how you can spend your money in a way that cuts against our consumer culture.

Here are some staff picks for ways to give AND give back this Christmas time.

Jarrett

This year St. Martin's Christmas plate offering will be going to Imara International, a safe house that also provides education for teen mothers and their babies in Kenya. This organization was founded by an Episcopalian and our own Barbara Dundon visited this past year to record some of their stories. Jarrett looks forward to visiting himself in 2015. 

Jarrett also encourages support of St. James School right here in Philadelphia. St. James School is a faith-based Philadelphia middle school in the Episcopal tradition, committed to educating traditionally underresourced students in a nurturing environment. The school is a community that provides a challenging academic program and encourages the development of the moral, spiritual, intellectual, physical and creative gifts in its students. Our own Erik Meyer continues to assist with music there at Eucharist on Wednesday afternoons.

Callie

Alternative Gift-Giving Ideas:

Episcopal Relief & Development (800.334.7626 x5129): purchase Bishops Blend Fair Trade Coffee and Tea; donate a gift of global aid in someone’s name.

Heifer International (800.422.0474): donate an animal in someone’s name; this animal will go to a family in need to help them be self-sufficient.

Kiva (415.358.7512): make microloans to small business owners worldwide; you select which entrepreneur to support and get your money back to keep or reinvest.

Thistle Farms (615.298.1140): natural bath and body products made by women in Nashville’s Magdalene community, a 2-year residential community for women with a history of prostitution and drug addiction (founded by an Episcopal priest!)

SERRV (800.422.5915): organization working to eradicate poverty through direct connections with low-income artisans and farmers; sells crafts and foods

Global Girlfriend (888.355.4321): fairly-traded apparel and accessories hand-made by women and communities in need around the world

Global Exchange (415.255.7296): offers a wide range of socially conscious gifts from around the world

Ways to Serve & Provide Warmth this Christmas:

The Greater Philadelphia Cares Winter Coat Drive - bring new or “gently used” winter coats to: Philadelphia Federal Credit Union at 6707 Germantown Avenue or Trolley Car Diner at 7619 Germantown Avenue (for other drop-off locations, call 215.564.4544 or visit )

Holiday Food Drives - taking place around the city (contact Philabundance for more information).

Barbara

I bought socks this year from Mitscoots which will donate a pair of socks to the homeless for every pair you buy.

Also I ordered some paper products from the Peoples Paper Coop in Germantown which provides legal assistance for ex-offenders to get their criminal records expunged, then turns their paperwork into beautiful hand-made paper.

Perennial favorites: Heifer International, Serrv International, 10,000 Villages.

Another practice is to make some time to shop locally, rather than ordering everything on-line or from big box stores. Go to 10,000 Villages on Germantown, and patronize other local shops on the avenue. Looking for books? Order them through a local book store such as Big Blue Marble, rather than Amazon. Buy art and food from local artisans near work or home. Gift people with tickets to local theater productions and patronize local musicians.

Natalee

For my five year old, Liam, this year we'll be donating to World Wildlife Fund Adopt a Tiger. It comes with a plush tiger, a photo of a tiger, and an adoption certificate. The plush and photo help make it real for a little kid. If you're buying for an adult you may want to skip the gift-with-donation and make every dollar go towards conservation. Other animals are available to support.

My husband Nate wanted to help support small business owners around the world through micro funding or providing something necessary to help start a business. Heifer International Honeybees or a Kiva gift card for microfinancing are just the right thing.

We'll also be making a donation to help build a pediatric unit at the Mpassa Medical Unit in the Congo. This is an effort being supported by the Southeast District of the Eastern PA Conference of the United Methodist Church - my denomination. I'll be making a donation here in honor of my new baby boy, Ezra.

Another favorite is Appalachia Service Project, a home repair ministry in central Appalachia which Nate and I led youth on for years and holds a special place in our hearts.

Connie

This year the Haggards will give to Beyond Borders and Partners in Health, both vital organizations in Haiti, and to DEC in honor of Chris' 19 years at that wonderful workshop where everyone, no matter what disability, is family.

Betsy

This Christmas the Wolfords are contributing to our local SPCA and we're purchasing a bike through Compassion International to enable a child in a third world country to ride to school, etc. And as all of you've heard me drone on & on about MS bike rides, the National MS Society is an organization I'm regularly rooting for.

Merry Christmas and Happy (Alternative) Giving this season!

The Advent Power of the Christmas Tree

We decorated the Christmas tree the Sunday after Thanksgiving this year.

“It seems too early,” my husband complained.

“Christmas decorations are up everywhere else, and we’re behind, ” my 14-year-old countered.

“This is the only day that the whole family will be here until Christmas,” I said, as I realized that in a few hours my son would be heading back to college after his brief Thanksgiving break. “It’s going up today.”

Settled.

I don’t know how others decorate their Christmas trees. We are great collectors of ornaments, both humble and grand. Nearly each one prompts a story that is retold every year, with titles like “The Origin of the Enormous Fake Dragonflies” or “Why We Won’t Toss the ‘Sputnik’ Ornaments Dad Made in Third Grade”.

My son and daughter aren’t little any more. They space the ornaments nicely instead of clumping them all in one place, a foot from the bottom branches. Every year their questions are more sophisticated, and they hear the stories in new ways. And so do I.

Don’t tell my kids, but putting up the Christmas tree is a rich, spiritual, and deeply powerful Advent ritual in my family. We connect ourselves to a long, complex narrative that blends family story and esoteric symbol; we construct a place where past meets future. As we navigate this overcrowded tree, we reluctantly separate out some things that are too damaged to keep or that have lost their meaning. And we keep some things for inexplicable reasons best called “mystery”. For example, the beakless, blue chicken made the cut again this year. “I like it, don’t throw it out,” someone declares. And it stays.

The lights go on, and we thrill at it. Over the next four weeks this tree will draw me. I will play with the arrangement, regularly moving ornaments around to fill empty spaces. I will sit in a tree-lit room and contemplate. I will remember. I will think ahead.

To be sure, our family has other rituals that are more specific to this pre-Christmas season. Each night we put symbols on a little Jesse tree -- origami decorations that tell the story of Salvation History and count down the days till the Christ arrives. On Sundays we light our Advent wreath and sing O Come O Come Emmanuel.

But the Christmas Tree itself does the holiday on its own terms. With its pagan past and decorations that are more reminiscent of family vacations than of the Holy Family, my tree doesn’t exactly foretell a baby born in a manger stall. In its glorious ambiguity it layers the many narratives of this time of year. It makes room for all of it in its bendy, manufactured branches. And each year there is still space for more.

In his book, The Legend of the Bells and other Tales, John Shea retells a Cherokee story, “Why Some Trees are Evergreen.” After the Great Mystery makes the plants and trees, he wants to give a gift to each according to its ability. So he set up a test, challenging them to stay awake and keep watch over the whole earth for a week. Most of the trees nod off by day three, but the cedar, pine, spruce, and fir and their kin are still vigilant when the Great Mystery returns at week’s end. Their reward is to remain green forever, so that even in the deadness of winter, animals could find warmth and sustenance in their branches.

Tell stories. Ask questions of the symbols. Hold the past in your hands. Find time. Make room. Stay awake until the Great Mystery returns. These are the subtle, Advent invitations of the Christmas tree. I’m not sure I’d be ready for Christmas Day without them.

- Barb Ballenger

Your turn! What stories does your Christmas tree tell? Let us know in the comments.

With You Every Step of the Way

“You are always there when I need you.” That is the highest praise. 

When I was a Youth Minister in Chicago, the young people at our retreats would repeat this phrase over and over when they described people who loved them. When someone is “always there for us” we feel  remembered, valued, assured, and safe in our overwhelming and confusing world. 

One day last week, I sat beside the bedside of a member who was in the hospital. His phone rang and when he answered it was a member of St. Martin's on the phone checking up on him. Recognizing her voice, I smiled and then remembered that the day before two Eucharistic Visitors had come from St. Martin's to bring Holy Communion to this same man. He was literally surrounded by caregivers from our church. 

I could say to him, “The church will be with you every step of the way,” and I would be telling truth.

Our second Core Value as a church community is: “In giving and receiving care we encounter Christ.” One reason we know this is an authentic value of the church is illustrated by my bedside pastoral visit described above. At St. Martin's we have a deep and virtuous habit of caregiving. Because of this strength in our ministry it makes me so happy to say that our pastoral care commitment at St. Martin's is to be with our members every step of the way.

We are here to be a resource to you from birth to death and everything in between. We will celebrate the birth of your children, baptize, teach them in church school, confirm, and then marry them. We will be with you when you are sick, troubled, guilty, depressed, angry, struggling financially, or going through a divorce. We will be with you by your bedside for surgeries and medical appointments – celebrating your healing and recovery and mourning the losses and struggles. Finally, we will be with you in your final hours with the soothing comfort of prayer and anointing to see you through that last transition into our ultimate healing. 

My first Rector taught me never to leave the graveside until the casket was safely lowered and everyone else had left. This simple action symbolizes our commitment to be a faithful pastor every step of the way whether people are there to notice or not. 

Every step of the way includes – indeed is mostly practiced by – our amazing lay ministers at St. Martin's. Stephen Ministers, Lay Eucharistic Visitors, the women of Women Connecting, the leaders of Wellspring, the tables of learners at Biblical Studies, the Parenting in Faith circle, and just from friend to friend and neighbor to neighbor throughout the church community. 

I am so proud of our community and our caregiving. We will be looking for ways to advance this work in the parish in the next years. 

- Jarrett Kerbel

Offertory - A Sermon Response

The following poem was sent to us by a parishioner in response to The Rev. Jarrett Kerbel's sermon from Sunday morning (November 16). You may read Jarrett's sermon St. Martin Under Arrest here, and then read the poem below.

OFFERTORY

A homeless person suddenly appeared

before me, chanting in a cloud of steam.

His fervent mumble echoed like a weird

confession; one last effort to redeem

a tattered soul.  He rose up, offered me

his cup, a Styrofoam collection plate,

and pleaded, in a worn-out litany,

for change.  But I was spent and running late;

I turned my head and shunned his outstretched hand.

He nodded slowly, smiled, and backed away—

Would he have used my gift for contraband

or was I witness to a Passion Play?

Such Sacraments can never be complete

When charity and vanity compete

John Tuton

The Practice of Self-Vulnerability

This month is National Blog Posting Month (colloquially referred to as NaBloPoMo) which is a community sustained challenge for professional and personal bloggers to publish one post every day of the month. I've committed to NaBloPoMo on my personal blog for the second year in a row in hopes of tapping into a new level of writing inspiration and motivation. Less than a week into the challenge, I feel like I have instead tapped into new levels of incredulity because I have subjected myself to this challenge again despite the struggles I had last year.

When I first attempted the challenge last year, I assumed that the hardest part would be carving out time every day to devote to writing a blog that I felt was worthy of publishing. While that has certainly been part of my struggle, this year I'm realizing that the actual hardest part is listening. In order to blog successfully and authentically every day, I have to more deliberately listen to what I'm thinking, feeling, and experiencing throughout the day which requires a level of self-vulnerability I didn't anticipate when I decided to take on this challenge.

This unexpected experience is much like what I went through during the Enneagram sessions that Wellspring offered the past two weeks. While I recognized that a certain level of self-work would be necessary to discuss personality types, I didn't expect to have to look that deeply at what motivates some of my most deeply entrenched ways of being. I had mentally prepared myself to be extra attentive to the presenter and to other people in the session but not to myself.

The strange thing that I am learning from the NaBloPoMo challenge along with the Enneagram sessions is that in order to be attentive and even vulnerable with other people I have to be willing to be vulnerable with and attentive to myself. In order to be honest and present with others, I have to practice being fully present with myself.

For me, that means giving myself time to breathe and center myself. It means quietly acknowledging feelings when they arise, even if I’d rather gloss over them. It means praying daily for the patience to be still and listen.

What about you? What does it look like for you to be present with yourself? How do you practice self-vulnerability?

- Angelique Gravely

Listening to the Communion of Saints

Given that the move was less than five months ago, it’s not surprising that it took me awhile to find the plastic container that contains my little corner of the Communion of Saints. I discovered it under a box and some games, the picture frames inside still enveloped in bubble wrap. These aren’t the only photos I have of my beloved ones, alive and dead. But these are the ones in frames, the ones that have sat on mantles and on bookshelves over the years. On display. So we don’t forget we’re part of something larger.

I select two that I will place in the side chapel on Sunday to mark the feasts of All Saints and All Souls. There is a small photo of my husband’s parents taken Easter morning, 1993. And there’s one of my parents taken 10 years before that: my mother, who is still living, and my father, who died when I was 22.

There are countless saints in my life – the Communion of Saints is a cloud of witnesses both living and dead, so I was taught. But these select are my patrons, the ones who parented and formed me and pointed God out to me, all in their own ways.

My parents grin at me from June 1983. I could have chosen the photos taken in the early 50s, back when my mother looked a bit like Leslie Caron and my dad was a serious World War II vet with all his hair. But I didn’t know them then.

Instead, here is my dad as I best remember him: thin hair, glasses and a face creased with smile lines.  I indulge in a tiny bit of self-pity. There are many, many things I would have liked to have discussed with him over the last 26 years, many things I would have liked to share with him. Like my in-laws, he died too young, before all my questions were answered.

But the Feast of All Saints isn’t about nostalgia for the dead. It’s about faith in the living, a relationship with souls that dwell as near to us as God does. And just as I can sometimes fail to notice the intimate presence of God, so too do I often fail to remember the intimate presence of those who are in full communion with God. Maybe it’s because they are so silent, as God is silent.

But they also speak.

When I want to know what my father would say to me about my life choices, I can consult the hagiography – the saintly and sometimes selective story I tell about his life. I can look to his philosophy of parenting and work (his field was vocational education). I can recall his readiness to walk and talk, his willingness to build things upon request, from dollhouses to dulcimers. I can tell the story of how he joined the Catholic Church in his own sweet time, more than 30 years after he told my mother he’d convert. I can savor his theology: “It all boils down to this: God is love. It’s as simple as that.”

If I would like to hear his voice now, in the intimate proximity that I believe my father shares with the divine, I must do this:  I must put myself in my most receptive posture.  I must quiet my side of things -- my memories, my loss, my grief. And I must take my place in the Communion of Saints, which speaks with one voice: God is love. And those who abide in love, abide in God.  And God in them.

- Barb Ballenger

Driving Miss Dot

When I was in elementary school in Eastern PA, my parents found an Episcopal Church they loved and we started attending regularly and becoming more involved. It wasn't long before I joined the children’s choir, my step-dad Dave was serving on vestry, and my mom was hired as parish coordinator. After a few Sundays of talking with an elderly member at coffee hour, Dave asked if she needed rides between her nursing home and church. 

That’s when Dot entered our lives. 

In her mid-90s, Dot still played the piano, loved her scotch, and introduced herself as “Dot P., O.B.” When people would engage her about being a doctor, she would correct them and tell them that O.B. stood for Old Bag. She was self-assured and had a great sense of humor, and my family had a great time getting to know her over the next couple of years that we gave her rides. Sometimes, when we took Dot back to her nursing home, we would stay and join her for lunch or see her to her room.

Even though she didn't have children of her own, Dot took a liking to me as I did her. For her birthday, I brought her a stuffed animal, which didn't fit with her décor or demeanor, but which she ended up cherishing and putting on her bed each day. One day, when we dropped her off, she gave me a little cushioned box that was hers. A couple of years later, after we had moved to Illinois, she died; I found that little blue box and held onto it as I cried.

Though it was only a small portion of my week, rides with Dot formed a lasting memory for me. It’s amazing to think that this relationship started with a simple, “Hey, do you need a ride?” When I asked Dave why he reached out to Dot, he said that in a church community, we’re all there to help one another worship God more fully. Giving Dot rides was a wonderful and rewarding opportunity for him to connect with another member of the church and get to know someone better, while helping a fellow parishioner. Dave had so much fun doing it that – once we moved to a new community – he found another spunky parishioner in her 90s to drive to church. 

He says it’s a simple plan: Be alert to the needs of the people in your church, and when you see them, respond. I am grateful for his ministry because it was a great example for me as a child and allowed me to form a bond with someone I may have never met otherwise.

At St. Martin’s, we have opportunities for you to connect with others. One of these ways is through signing up on our Transportation Ministry page as someone who would be willing to provide rides to church to someone in your geographical area. Needs vary and commitments are flexible; if you are willing to open your car and your heart to a neighbor, take the first step of signing up. Like my family, you may get to know someone whom you remember for many years after the rides have ended.

- The Rev. Callie Swanlund