Re-Dedication Celebration for our major refurbishment

Press Release by Leslie Smith for St. Paul’s church

 The Congregation of St. Paul’s has announced that they are undertaking a major refurbishment of the historic Episcopal Church at 101 Main Street.

St. Paul’s, built in 1898 and consecrated in 1899, restored its stained glass windows over several years with the large window facing main street completed in 2010.

The current project will restore the worship space and includes installing a hardwood floor to replace the worn carpet, refinishing the pews and lining the plaster walls with mesh fabric and resurfacing. Completion is expected by 2nd of December.

St. Paul’s is a small but diverse congregation and has a history of outreach to the community which includes a seasonal lunch program for migrant workers, Orange County Safe Homes, Chester food pantry and Habitat for Humanity’s Episcobuild as well as several others.

St. Paul’s is a small church with a family atmosphere, and open hearts and open doors to all who would like to come. You are invited to come visit Sunday mornings at 9:00am.

Letting Baptism Catch Up With You

One thing’s for sure and that is whenever the subject of baptism gets brought up, especially when it has to do with your child or your grandchild or someone in a different denomination than your’s—there is inevitably a heated discussion, or an argument or fireworks.  Which church does it right, is baptism better by immersion or dipping, is it infant baptism or young adult-believers baptism?  Where is the right place for baptism to take place?  Who can be the God-parent? –my best friend who is Roman Catholic or Jewish or an atheist? When it comes to baptism, we get all tied up in doctrines and customs, trying to do the right thing and not to offend anyone. Does this resonate with any of you?

Well, just go to the Holy Land and experience the fiery controversy about the location of Jesus’ baptism—the real site.  On the surface you may think this controversy is a waste of time, given all the other pressing issues that crop up in that part of the world.  But citing the real spot on the Jordan River where John met Jesus and where the heavens were torn apart is important.

It is important to biblical scholars and to historians.  And, it is important to the spiritual sensitivities of the faithful who want to step in the stream, just as Jesus did, and feel a sense of holy connection.  As it is, there are two spots on the Jordan River that vie for authenticity.  One is claimed by the Episcopal, Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and Orthodox churches as the most likely to be the real location—and for sound reasons to be sure.  It is in Bethany beyond the Jordan River, as scripture says and that puts the baptism of our Lord in the country of Jordan, not Israel.  The other site is further north on the river, in Israel and it is owned and operated as a tourist site by the State of Israel.  You are free to draw your own conclusions.

In both of these places the faithful or even the curious have an opportunity to step into the water. I have seen people from as far away as China travel all the way to the Jordan in order to be baptized.  Or baptized persons going down into the water as a way of experiencing baptism anew.  Or simply standing in the water and reciting prayers from our own Book of Common Prayer in order to renew their baptismal vows.

There is a saying: Baptism might get you wet or it might just change your life.  In itself, there’s nothing magical about a dip in the water.  Even if it’s a religiously motivated one, with a formal liturgy in a church, specially blessed water, godparents, and the whole works.  Or taking a pilgrimage to the real Jordan River whether it is in Jordan or Israel.  What makes it special is what you do with it after you get out of the water.

For Jesus, baptism was a pretty rip-tide experience.   Jesus had come out to the Jordan to find John who was rapidly baptizing people who were looking for a way to wash away their sins.  What John was practicing was a baptism of repentance.  It was common enough practice in those days and truthfully the idea of baptism as washing away sin is an excepted understanding of baptism—yes, even in the Episcopal Church.  But there is so much more to it.

John points this out when he says, there is one coming who is much more powerful than me.  I will baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.  You have to love the account in the Gospel of Mark: no sooner have we been alert to the nature of John’s ministry when Jesus appears on the scene and when he rises up from the Jordan, the heavens are TORN apart.  They just didn’t open up, but they were torn apart as if God wasn’t going to waste any time getting down into that river with Jesus and claiming him His own and all us for that matter.  Like, you had better stand back in the wake of this urgency of the Spirit of God That swoops down just as the voice thunders out “You are my Son, my beloved.”  And not just that, God makes this declaration, a declaration that every child longs to hear, “In you I am well pleased.”

Clearly this baptism of the Holy Spirit is the beginning of Jesus’ ministry now claimed as Son and Beloved.  So, too, it is for all of us who are baptized in the name of Jesus the Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit.  It is the beginning of our son-ship or daughter-ship with God, in an intimate relationship that God has chosen for us that gives us our working papers to go forth to minister to God’s people in the name of Christ.  It isn’t just a piece of rhetoric that we say we are the Body of Christ.  Individuals yes but together, corporately as the Body of Christ born anew to be the arms and legs, the thoughts and actions of the very Jesus whom we read about in scripture, pray to and sing about.

In reality most of us, at the moment of our baptisms, didn’t experience that rush of wind, the thundering voice of God.  We were infants.  What did we know?  But at whatever age or rational capacity we had to understand what was happening to us we were brought into a community of faith that promised to nurture us in the love of Christ. And blessedly, our baptisms catch up with at some point in our lives.  Whether or not there is any water involved at the moment it happened, you experienced your baptism when you realized who you are at your very core and you accept that realization with joy coming, as it does, from a deep abiding love of God.

Carlo Carletto writes this:

Love is God in me
Yes, love is God in me, 
and if I am in love I am in God, that is, in life, in grace: a sharer in God’s being….

And if God is in me as love,
why do I change or disfigure God’s face with acts or values which are not love?

Let me share two vignettes that reveal the face of God’s love that shines through the baptized. The first is community of Christians who live and worship in the lower East side of New York. Last night Church of Our Savior held a concert featuring their own choir which is made up largely of Cantonese Episcopalians. The occasion was to raise funds to support the Episcopal hospital in Gaza, which like all institutions in the Gaza strip has been devastated by the latest round of rockets.  Al Ahli Hospital is in the heart of Gaza City.  It is run by the Episcopal diocese of Jerusalem but it services any and all Palestinians regardless of religion and ability to pay. It is the only Christian presence in Gaza in an area where unemployment exceed 50%, daily fuel to keep power on in the operating rooms and everywhere in the hospital complex is a challenge.  As winter grinds on, they expect to see more burned children, as they did last winter, from the open fires in homes used to keep families warm.

And, down on the lower Eastside, the Body of Christ radiates God’s love in a small church in Chinatown, A love that crosses ethnic priorities and cultural boundaries. Some say, Isn’t that amazing.  Others would say, we could do no other.

The 2nd vignette was told to me the other day.  Your vestry met last Thursday night, which in and of itself is an act of God’s love but beyond that they had a visitor.  An unknown man arrived without much to his name.  He has just been released from the jail up the road. He was in great need.  How easy it would have been to say, “We are very busy and there is nothing that we can do.”  But there was something to be done.  A show of hospitality and then a phone call to get him safe and warm lodging for the night.  Some would say “we could do no less.”

Today we remember our Lord’s baptism, we remember our own and what changes in our lives that moment, whenever it came or comes again wakes us up to the joy of God’s love and the awareness that we are no less than the Body of Christ, with all our warts and misgivings we have been claimed as God’s beloved.


The Baptism of Our Lord, 1 Epiphany, 2015

The Reverend Dr. Deborah Dresser

Presiding Bishop’s Easter Message

An Easter Season Message from our Presiding Bishop   

The tomb is empty, and nobody knows where the body is.  Mary Magdalene tells the others about the mysterious disappearance, but they give up and go home.  Mary stays behind, weeping, and then fails to recognize the risen one before her.  As the days pass, each resurrected encounter begins in surprise or anonymity – the disciples fishing all night without catching, Jesus cooking breakfast on the beach, the two on their way to Emmaus.  Nobody recognizes him at first sight.

 Clearly the risen body is not identical to the Jesus who was crucified.  People mistake him for a stranger.  He enters locked rooms.  He walks along the path to Emmaus for a long time without being recognized.  Crucifixion, death, and resurrection result in a transformed body – with evident scars, but changed nonetheless.  When he reminds others of God’s banquet, meant for the whole world – when human beings are fed and watered, delivered from prison, gathered from exile across the earth, and healed and reconciled into a community of peace – his companions discover that he has once again been in their midst.

 What does that resurrection reality mean for the Body of Christ of which we are part?  How does the risen Body of Christ – what we often call the church – differ from the crucified one?  That Body seems to be most lively when it lives closer to the reality of Good Friday and the Easter mystery.  In the West, that Body has suffered a lot of dying in recent decades.  It is diminished, some would say battered, increasingly punctured by apathy and taunted by cultured despisers.  That body bears little resemblance to royal images of recent memory – though, like Jesus, it is being mocked.  The body remembers and grieves, like the body of Israel crying in the desert, “why did you bring us out here to die?” or the crucified body who cries, “My God, why have you forsaken me,” or “why have you abandoned us?”  In other contexts the Body of Christ is quite literally dying and spilling its lifeblood – in Pakistan and Sudan, in Iraq and Egypt – and in those ancient words of Tertullian, the blood of martyrs is becoming the seed of the church.

 The Body of Christ is rising today where it is growing less self-centered and inwardly focused, and living with its heart turned toward the cosmic and eternal, its attention focused intently on loving God and neighbor.  This Body is rising to stand in solidarity with criminals sentenced to death, with widows and orphans, with the people of the land who slave over furrows and lettuce fields to feed the world.  This Body can be found passing through walls and boundaries that have long been misused to keep the righteous “safe” and “pure.”  The Body is recognized when the hungry are fed – on the lakeshore with broiled fish, on the road to Emmaus, on street corners and city parks, in food pantries and open kitchens, in feeding neighbor nations and former enemies, and as the Body gathers once again to remember its identity and origin – Christ is risen for the sake of all creation.

 Where and how will we look for the Body of Christ, risen and rising?  Will we share the life of that body as an Easter people, transformed by resurrection and sent to transform the world in turn?

 Christ is risen, Alleluia!  Alleluia, Christ is risen indeed!

 The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori

Presiding Bishop and Primate

The Episcopal Church

The Bishop on Nelson Mandela

A letter from the Bishop Regarding the Legacy of 
Nelson Mandela
My Sisters and Brothers,

Several years ago I, and others from this diocese, were present when Archbishop Desmond Tutu received an honorary degree from Fordham University.  At the event, a chorus of singers from South Africa performed several pieces.  As a refrain to one of those songs was the singing/shouting of the name “Mandela!  Mandela! Mandela!” over and over and over again.  I will never forget the love, the gratitude, the hope, and the profound human longing conveyed by the extended repeated recitation of that name.  

In our own day and lives we have seen the extreme subjugation of people and the most vicious racial hatred and violence of South Africa give way to one of the most sublime witnesses to peace and reconciliation, and to the highest aspirations of the human character. The people of that land, rising from oppression, have demonstrated before the world the power of godly reconciliation to overcome hatred and retribution.  And that witness has kept hope alive across the globe in places where violence is the daily bread and the divisions among peoples are most intractable.  Behind South Africa’s transformation, and at the center of those miracles and wonders were and are many remarkable men and women.  But few inspired the loyalty of the world, or so kindled the hopes of every heart, as did Nelson Mandela, by the weight of his suffering and the sterling virtues of his faith and character.  

Patience in suffering.  Courage under oppression.  Hope in the darkness.  Forgiveness of wrongs.  Love of enemies.  By these graces Nelson Mandela testified to the reasonableness of a godly hope.  Now the great man of peace, the keeper of the faith, has passed, and every heart is troubled.  Now it falls to the world and the church, and to all who would honor this man, to guard our own hearts, to recommit ourselves to peace, and to the reconciliation of adversaries, which was the brilliance of his life and martyrdom, and by which is the healing of the world.  

The Rt. Rev. Andrew M. L. Dietsche 

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