But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.  2 Corinthians 4:7-12
 
The end of the ski racing season is at hand.  Although it might not appear to be, it is a grind.  Getting up to the mountains three times a week, whether it is sunny and warm or freezing and windy.  Yet, there is so much fun.  Developing relationships with the kids and their parents.  Watching them grow as ski racers and humans.  Celebrating their successes and being with them in their struggles.  Then it is all over.  The final race of the regular season was on Monday and the state championships are next week.  Then we will have an awards night and that is it.  All that time and effort shared, and we all move on to different things.  The underclassmen, we will hopefully see them next year, and new skiers will hopefully join the team.  But the seniors are on to other things in the world.  The end of the season is both hopeful and sad.  In that way, it is a microcosm of life.  We are all passing through, and so the story of our faith is one of death and resurrection.
           
In Paul’s Second letter to the Corinthians, he tells them about the constant struggle that he was under as he endeavored to be faithful to Christ.  Paul faced many persecutions and hardships from a world that did not understand his faith and sought to force him to turn away from it.  In addition, Paul suffered the normal struggles of human life: the death of people he loved, broken relationships, aching joints, cold weather, and sleepless nights.  Life was hard for him and his friends.  Yet, he could say, “We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.”  Death, and the resurrected life of Jesus, were there on display in his life. 
           
Paul’s story is our story as well.  Perhaps not as spectacularly, but when we hold close to Jesus we are always in the process of death and resurrection.  This ski season is over, and that is a death, but we always have hope in the resurrection.  The same is true in the church, in our relationships with people we love, in our life of faith, death and resurrection is our story for the life of Jesus is on us and in us.

In Christ,
​Seth

When he was 37, George Herbert’s career went bunk. He had begun brilliantly as a scholar, rising to the post of university orator at Cambridge. He had taken holy orders. He had hopes for a career as a courtier and diplomat. But in 17th century England, where advancement came through preference rather than performance, he knew the wrong people. His connections were out of favor. As a result, King James I had no place for him in the government. All the King had to offer so gifted a man was a modest living as rector of the parish of Fugglestone and Bemerton in rural Wiltshire, not far from Salisbury Cathedral, but out of the way and far from palaces or power.

A few years ago I was in Salisbury and remembered I had a connection. I made an impromptu call on Archdeacon Alan Jeans, MBE, whom I had met briefly in California. I hoped he might have time to greet me. After I mentioned Herbert, he insisted on driving me to Bemerton. There he showed me Herbert’s house, and his pasture which sloped down to a tree-lined river, and a tiny church. In this bucolic, out of the way place, amid a few small farms, a brilliant man made a small career.

Herbert wrote, “Nothing is small in God’s service.” He made an ideal parish priest by all accounts, who brought cheer to the local farming families. With time on his hands, he wrote poems. He expected his poetry might be burned after his death.

Herbert died in 1633, after only three years of his remote pastorate. And his poems weren’t burned. They were published and have been read ever since. They inspired other poets like S. T. Coleridge and T. S. Eliot. The 20th century French philosopher Simon Weil considered his poems a revelation. And they drew me halfway around the world to his tiny church.
Emmanuel Church will mark George Herbert’s day on the Anglican calendar a day early, on Thursday, February 26th at 10 am. Those who attend will remember: “Nothing is small in God’s service.” – Guest Post by Gage McKinney

Tara and I just came back from New York City, where we had the chance to spend time with two other married couples who went to seminary with us.  From 2003-2006, we all lived and studied together in a small town outside of Pittsburgh, PA.  Our lives had been connected over twenty years ago by our faith, our pursuit of a common goal, and our enduring struggles, and we remain connected today.

In our reading from Ecclesiastes, the teacher is traditionally identified as Solomon, but in the book the author is identified only as the “Teacher.”  Ecclesiastes is an unflinching look at the world and gives advice, both practical and spiritual, for how to live.  Our passage is part of a larger section on the importance of friendship.  It identifies for us the significance of having people with you who you love and trust.  This advice is both practical and spiritual.  We need people with us as companions in this journey through life, and we need people to encourage us in our faith.  It is so easy to get lost on this journey or to lose our passion, and good friends can help us to hold fast when times are hard.  It is in particular this last line that speaks to me, “If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.  But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.”  Our lives are filled with falls.  When we are knocked down or trip over our own feet, a good friend helps us get up.  This is especially true of our faith.  Jesus is there to lift us when we fall, and our friends are often that living embodiment of the grace of Christ in our lives. 

It was so wonderful to see our friends.  It had been decades since we had all been together at the same time, yet here we were, immediately close and filled with joy.  Seminary had been hard; there were theological disagreements, babies lost in miscarriage, and strained relationships, yet we stuck it out together in prayer and love by the grace of God.  The result of this was a beautiful closeness and love.  That is the hope of the church.  That we will become closer through our faith, through our unified hope and purpose, but also through our laboring through the struggles of life.  I am thankful for these last sixteen years.  For the way that they have caused us to become close and I am filled with confidence and hope as we journey into the future together, that God will continue to unite us as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.
 
​Love Fr. Seth Kellermann

#Ecclesiastes, #FaithJourney, #ChristianReflection, #WalkingInFaith, #BiblicalWisdom                                                                       

“Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”
— Isaiah 1:18

The New Year is upon us. Each new year offers another opportunity to start afresh, and many of us will try to adopt new habits in hopes of influencing positive change in our lives. I love the idea of a fresh start—and apparently, so does God.

The hope of a new beginning is embedded in our faith. We see this clearly in our passage from Isaiah, where God speaks to His people in Judah and Jerusalem. His words are difficult to hear. God calls them to repentance, saying, “Wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight; stop doing wrong. Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow” (Isaiah 1:16–17).

Israel had become much like the surrounding nations, even incorporating foreign religious practices. Though they continued to fulfill the outward obligations of worship in the Temple, their hearts had grown far from God. As a result, they lost sight of their calling to care for the oppressed, the fatherless, and the widow.

Yet God did not abandon them. Instead, He offered them a chance to start anew: “Come now, let us settle the matter… Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” God promised to cleanse them from the stain of their sin. This cleansing would not come simply from replacing bad behavior with good habits—while change was necessary, it could not make them clean. At best, it would keep them from growing dirtier. What they truly needed was God’s forgiveness and restoration.

Though they did not yet understand it, this impossible task would ultimately be accomplished through Jesus Christ. His sacrifice would wash over them—and over us—making what was stained clean and giving us the fresh start only God can provide.

This January, we, too, are given an opportunity to begin again. As we work on changing habits and routines, let us remember the deeper renewal God offers us. Let us turn to Him, receive His forgiveness, and allow our lives to reflect that grace—especially as we care for the oppressed, the fatherless, and the widow, loving others as God has first loved us.

In Christ,
​Seth

#GodsGrace, #WashedWhiteAsSnow, #ChristianLiving, #ScriptureMeditation, #JusticeAndMercy, #FaithInTheNewYear

It was during the reign of Roman emperor Aurelian, in the late 3rd century, that December 25, the winter solstice of the Julian calendar, was declared to be the official birthday of the divinity sol invictus, the Invincible Sun. Soon afterward, the Church seized the day for its own.

In the story of the Epiphany, as related in the gospel of Matthew, “three wise men from the east visited the baby Jesus in Bethlehem on the twelfth day following his birth.  An epiphany is a manifestation, and January 6th became the day appointed by the Church to celebrate the revelation of Christ’s divinity to mankind.

In the 4th century, the western world’s most influential preacher, St. Augustine, romanticized and embellished the story of the Epiphany.  The gift-bearing wise men became “kings,” and the Feast of the Epiphany, the twelfth day of Christmas, evolved into a major holiday imbued with royal associations.

Medieval monarchs would don their finest regalia, maybe even wager in a game of dice.  Presents were given to children to commemorate the gifts the kings gave to the baby Jesus.  In the great houses of Europe, the holiday became a glittering finale to a 12-day Christmas cycle, with elaborate entertainments featuring conjurers, acrobats, jugglers, harlequins and other humorous characters – notable among them the Lord of Misrule, whose task was to organize the festivities.  In England, where the seasonal extravaganzas might include elaborate allegorical dramas called masques that paid homage to the monarch as a guardian of the state and a provider of peace and prosperity, he was often appointed on November 1, All Saints’ Day, to allow him time to prepare.  His reign lasted throughout the 12 days of Christmas and sometimes even extended to the traditional feast day that serves as the overture to Lent - Shrove Tuesday.

While Twelfth Night customs that spread throughout Europe varied widely, one element transcended virtually every culture that observed the holiday: the choice of a mock king for the occasion.  He was chosen in various ways, but often a cake would be divided.  The person who found a bean or a coin in his piece was the lucky king for the night.  Sometimes he picked his own queen, sometimes chance chose her for him, and a pea secreted in the cake conferred the honor on its finder. The temporary change in status was sustained with ceremony: the king was given a crown, the 3 SUNDAY FELLOWSHIP TIME authority to call the toasts and lead the drinking, and sometimes, the more dubious privilege of paying the bill on the morning after.

Cake and King were thus linked as good-luck charms for the coming year.  The cake, the bean, and the pea were emblems of fertility and harvest, health and prosperity.  The King’s brief reign spanned the turn from one year to the next, and in his topsy-turvy kingdom, conventions were triumphantly defied.

Many changes have occurred in the customs of Twelfth Night festivities over the centuries since its inception.  In England, the century between 1760 and 1860 marked the heyday of Twelfth Night, giving way to the Christmas tree, Christmas cards, and traditions of “bringing home the yule log”, hanging of the holly, and kissing beneath the mistletoe.  The traditional Twelfth Night cake was replaced by a full-blown Christmas dinner with a large plum pudding.  But in Continental Europe, where the Roman Empire left a more lasting legacy, the ancient traditions associated with the winter solstice and Epiphany endured.  The ritual of hiding a tiny treasure in the celebratory cake was, indeed, a symbolic reenactment of Epiphany. In France, the bean – la feve – was eventually replaced by a bean-sized baby Jesus; its discovery commemorated the Magi's discovery of Jesus’ divinity.

Legend has it that the cakes were shaped like a ring and colorfully decorated to resemble a bejeweled crown.  The cake was topped with a delicious glazed topping and then sprinkled with colored sugar.  The three colors of the sugar were Purple (representing Justice), Green (representing Faith), and Gold (representing Power).  It became a tradition to serve the cake with a paper or cardboard crown on top.  Whenever found, the person finding the hidden trinket would get to wear the crown and choose a consort.

The cakes themselves have changed through the years. The almond-paste-filled pastry puff that’s traditionally associated with northern France, and the gateau des Rois enjoyed by the old Creole gentry in New Orleans, can still be found at some specialty bakeries.  But by far the most popular style of king cake these days has more in common with the Bordeaux Twelfth Night cake of southern France, the couronne, which is made from brioche dough.

​At Emmanuel, following each church service on January 5th, a King’s Cake will be served in Buck Hall.  Come see who finds the small treasure this year!  

#Epiphany, #TwelfthNight, #KingsCake, #FeastOfTheEpiphany, #ChristianTradition, #ChurchHistory

​Epiphany at Emmanuel
Join us as we celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany—the revelation of Christ to the world. Following each service on January 5, all are invited to Buck Hall to share in the tradition of King’s Cake and discover the meaning, history, and joy of this sacred season.