Trinity Episcopal Church

Shield


 

Dear Friends at Trinity,
 
Last Sunday, we held the last of the “Get Acquainted Conversations”—the formal conversations I have been holding with members of the parish over the past two months. Over fifty people have attended at least one of the coffees and shared with me and one another what drew them to Trinity, what defines Trinity for them, and their hopes and dreams for Trinity.
 
People have been drawn to Trinity by many different things.  Some of you have come because you are Episcopalians and Trinity is your parish church.  Others of you have grown up here and find Trinity to be your second home.  Some are drawn in by the beauty of our church—the sculpture over the altar, the graceful liturgy, the light and airy feel of the church, the stained glass windows—and some by the sermons they have heard. Some people have come to Trinity just because someone invited them.
 
As I listened to people talk about what defines Trinity for them, I was struck by how important an invitation issued or smile  exchanged were.  Several people referred to times a person invited them to coffee hour and then walked with them across the courtyard.  Others defined Trinity in terms of a person who asked them to do a job.  There are those for whom the Risen Jesus above the altar, the silences in the service, the Palm Sunday procession,  or the Christmas Eve Service serve to define Trinity.  For some Trinity is defined by a special moment in a special service or a program like the Poetry series; for others Trinity is defined by that feeling of being at home they experience when they are with Trinity.
 
Just as we have dreams and hopes for our own homes and families, we have dreams and hopes for Trinity.  Some of these hopes and dreams are very concrete—a new refrigerator, a sexton, bringing back the gifts to visitors, week-day evening programs for people who cannot come to Sunday programs, a children’s choir, a youth-led Eucharist.  Many people hope for greater involvement with our larger community through service to those in need, through greater participation in ecumenical events, and through reaching out to the unchurched.  Time and again I heard people talk about reaching out to the Latina/Latino community.  Yet the hope that surfaced more than any other was the hope for growth—growth in a diversity of age groups, growth in families with young children as well as young adults, growth in the diversity of the congregation.  People hope to see new faces among us and old faces return to us.
 
As I reflect on all these conversations, I’m struck by three things—the power of an invitation, the hunger for growth, and the recognition that, as one parishioner put it, “A lot of what we want has to be done by all of us.”   Time and again when Jesus encountered someone on the road—a person curious about who Jesus was and what he was about—Jesus said, “Come and see.”  Our own lived experience as individuals and as a community of faith teaches us the power of those words.  For us to live into our hope and hunger for growth, each of us needs to say in our own way, “Come and see.”  How do we do that?   I believe we do that by living into and living by our baptismal promise to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.  Yet even as we do this, we must remember the response we make when we affirm our baptismal covenant.  We say, “I will with God’s help.”  As Paul wrote in the first letter to the church at Corinth, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth”(3: 6).  Let us plant and water in the faith that God will give the growth.

 In Christ,
Susan +