Week of March 19, 2023

If you open one of the cabinets in the vesting sacristy, push aside cassocks and surplices hanging there, you will see a rectangular block with 1893 etched into it. This is the cornerstone of the church building. Sadly, when I first arrived at Good Shepherd, that cabinet had mold growing on the wooden door, which we eventually washed down with bleach and cleaned. Perhaps it was something of a metaphor: in decades of parish life, ups and downs, the church’s very cornerstone was forgotten in the busyness of other things. I occasionally like to open that sacristy cabinet and look at the cornerstone and imagine what the day was like in 1893 when it was laid. The cornerstone reminds me of the solid foundation of the parish.

That cornerstone is also a metaphor for the countless generations of those who have come before us at Good Shepherd. It is always interesting to me that those who are visiting the church for the first time often comment to me that the church building has a good feeling. I don’t believe this is new age thinking. I think there really is something to the power of prayer that permeates the walls and corners of a building. Haven’t you ever noticed this in an ancient church? Have you been able to feel the prayer that has taken place over hundreds of years? I am always overjoyed when someone tells me they feel that goodness (and joy?) when they walk into the Church of the Good Shepherd. It is encouraging to think that no matter how many difficulties a parish might suffer, the goodness of rightly ordered prayer triumphs. When I say rightly ordered, I mean that prayer itself can be distorted by human sin; we don’t always know how to ask for the right things (for more on this, see a wonderful book The Dangers of Christian Practice: On Wayward Gifts, Characteristic Damage, and Sin by Lauren F. Winner, New Haven, CT: Yale UP, 2018). But it seems that even though I’m sure prayer has been disordered at times in the past at Good Shepherd, there has been enough rightly intentioned prayer to carry the parish through troubled times. Christ has won the victory over sin and death.

We, after all, as Christians in this little corner of God’s kingdom, have been brought to the present day by generations who have come before us. They are a cloud of witnesses who, since the founding of the parish in 1869, have been committed to a catholic expression of Anglicanism within the Episcopal Church, to serving the poor and needy, and to bringing the Gospel to the ends of the earth (read more here). To some extent, the commitment to regularized, structured prayer rooted in the Book of Common Prayer protects us from our tendency to offer warped prayers. And I’m grateful for that.

At Good Shepherd, we are, in many ways, a community that is rebuilding. And the only way we can do that is, of course, with God’s gracious help. But God is also working through the prayerful and financial support of those who have come before us and those who are now with us, whether living geographically close to the church or afar. This is why our parish Advancement Committee has now formed an official Friends of Good Shepherd society. You can read more about this Friends society, but suffice it to say that those of us on the ground here in Rosemont can’t rebuild this parish alone. We need God first and foremost, but we also need the prayers and financial support of our friends, near and far.

Perhaps the greatest piece of good news in being a Christian is that we are never alone in what we do. We often forget this, but it’s true. On difficult days in the parish, I remind myself of this. I am deeply grateful for those of you who have already befriended this parish. Last week, emails were sent to a group of people who are connected with the parish but do not worship regularly with us. Some of them are charter members of the Friends of Good Shepherd because they already contribute financially to the parish. Others we hope will make an annual donation of at least $50 to be an official Friend. We in the parish commit to praying regularly for these Friends, and we intend to keep them connected in various ways, especially in a digital age. Each year, we will have a Friends gathering on the weekend of Good Shepherd Sunday, our Feast of Title.

Please note the celebrations planned for this year’s Feast of Title on April 30, when former rector Father Andrew Mead will return to the parish to preach at the morning Masses. We will also hold a celebratory luncheon after Sung Mass (register here), and we will pray Choral Evensong and Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament at 3 p.m. If you know of people who might like to become official Friends of Good Shepherd, would you please invite them to visit our website and learn more about Friends?

We are currently a small parish, even though we are growing, but we face enormous potential as well as enormous challenges. We are not too proud to ask for help. We routinely pray for God’s help. If you love this parish but live afar, will you consider becoming a Friend? And above all, will you pray for us? I believe this parish is a gift to the local community and wider Church. We are still discerning the specific ways in which God is calling us to serve that community and Church. And we would love your prayerful and financial support as we seek to become a light to the world for the sake of the Gospel.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of March 12, 2023

The first presiding bishop I ever heard of when I first started attending Episcopal churches over twenty years ago was Bishop Frank Griswold. Wherever you were in the United States (or beyond in some cases), countless parishes were praying for Frank, our presiding bishop. Little could I have imagined at the time that one day Bishop Griswold would be connected with a parish of mine. From Christ Church, New Haven, Connecticut, to the Church of Saint Mary the Virgin, New York City, Bishop Griswold’s paths kept peripherally crossing mine, although I really did not know him at all.

But when I came here to Good Shepherd, I realized that he had been associated with this parish since his earliest years as a priest. He was born right here in Bryn Mawr, and when serving his first position as curate at our neighboring parish, the Church of the Redeemer, he would regularly say one of the daily Masses here at Good Shepherd back in Father Cupit’s tenure as rector. Bishop Griswold was presiding bishop during the deepest throes of Good Shepherd’s former troubles. And it was a lovely closure to a life well-lived that saw Bishop Griswold supporting the Church of the Good Shepherd, Rosemont, as it rebounded from difficult times, a parish he knew and loved from so many years back.

I was deeply saddened to learn of Bishop Griswold’s death on Sunday at age 85. As someone has already noted, he was a “gentle giant” in the Church. He did not lead through boisterous speech but through a quiet depth of holiness. I feel enormously privileged to have known him and listened to him share the wisdom of his deep spirituality with younger priests. Just last November, he led one of our program retreats here at the Rosemont Community Retreat House, “To Charm and Attract,” which was intended for clergy and musicians working together in parish ministry. It was a marvelous retreat.

Some of you may remember that Bishop Griswold was the celebrant and preacher for the Great Vigil of Easter here at Good Shepherd not quite two years ago, and he also led our Lenten adult formation series that Lent of 2021. He has always been tremendously supportive of this parish getting back on its feet again. I think this was a real testimony to his humility and character. Even this small, struggling parish was worthy of his attention and support.

But I also suspect that if Bishop Griswold were reading this message, he would not wish me to go on and on about him. So, I’d like to draw our attention to something that I think he taught the Church, if not directly then indirectly, in his service as a bishop. Bishop Griswold was a catholic Anglican, and to me, that meant embodying a spirit of generosity. He served as co-chair of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission for five years, and he was deeply involved in ecumenical work. But he did not get caught up in “issues.” His ecumenical spirit never caused him to shrink from moving forward when the Gospel called for it. He served as presiding bishop during one of the most tumultuous times in recent history in the Episcopal Church—the debates over human sexuality prompted by the ordination of Gene Robinson as the first openly gay bishop in the Episcopal Church. Bishop Griswold shepherded the Episcopal Church through a perilous time in the life of the wider Anglican Communion with grace and compassion.

What we have to learn from this example is that our Anglo-Catholicism and commitment to tradition is never an excuse to be exclusive or spiritually parsimonious. It is never an excuse to judge others within the Church, to behave as if God withholds grace from some, or to ignore the Gospel’s power to reach all people. My prayer is that Anglo-Catholicism will move forward and thrive as wide-armed and generous. I like to think we are aiming for that at Good Shepherd. Catholic means “whole” (more accurately than “universal”). It is ironic that some who most profess to be “Catholic” are deeply provincial in mindset.

This all makes me think of another holy person from the Church’s recent memory, the late Archbishop Michael Ramsey (1904-1988), who embodied his catholicity in his theological generosity and lack of pretension. Archbishop Ramsey always cautioned against making God smaller than he is. This is about some of the wisest advice we can heed as Christians.

As the Church mourns the death of Bishop Griswold, we can celebrate his enormous contributions to the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, as well as his commitment to being a truly catholic Anglican, which always envisioned a God much larger than our frail human images and restrictions. There is a power in the catholic strand of Anglicanism that the Church needs today, and it is nothing less than an incarnational witness to such generosity. Even now, Bishop Griswold, Archbishop Ramsey, and others like Archbishop Desmond Tutu—all of whom lived generously as catholic-minded Anglicans—can pray for us in our earthly journeys. May we aspire to know and love a God who is more generous than we can ever imagine. And may the soul of Bishop Griswold, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of March 5, 2023

Depending on the situation, the word “discipline” can either be interpreted positively or negatively. It takes discipline to master a sport, play a Beethoven piano sonata, or drive a car safely. I remember first learning the organ in college and laboring rather tediously through technical exercises. I wasn’t allowed to play the pedals for months, but I persevered. I knew, somehow, that this hard work would pay off. It did. When I finally moved on to rigorous repertoire, not only could I play the notes with ease, but I could make real music. The discipline of practice, which previously might have seemed restrictive, was now the means by which I could add rubato and other musical gestures.

But, apply the word discipline to the spiritual life, and most people nervously cough or say that discipline gets in the way of their prayer and relationship with God. If only they could be free to pray as they wish and choose what and what not to take on, their lives would be spiritually better. Without wholly dismissing the flexibility necessary for the spiritual life, we should be wary of eschewing talk about spiritual discipline.

Lent is certainly an appropriate season to explore anew the meaning of spiritual discipline. The Book of Common Prayer, in a little known (or conveniently ignored?) instruction, says that Ash Wednesday, the weekdays of Lent and Holy Week (except for the Feast of the Annunciation), Good Friday, and all other Fridays of the year (except in Christmastide and Eastertide) are days “observed by special acts of discipline and self-denial” (p. 17). In Lent, some of you may be accustomed to avoiding flesh meat on Fridays. We pray the Stations of the Cross on Fridays to walk the way of suffering and death with Jesus. But what does “discipline” and “self-denial” mean more broadly?

Above all, I think it means that the intentionality, focus, and time that we give to many aspects of our lives outside the Church also belong within the Church. Why is that so often not the case? It takes discipline to pray at set times during the day, especially when we are busy and don’t feel like doing “one more thing.” It takes discipline to rouse the children from bed on a Sunday morning to go to church. Temporarily, perhaps it’s a chore, but long-term, it’s a vital planting of seeds of faith that will hopefully bloom in the lives of those children down the road. It takes discipline to carve out time for God in our lives that are, frankly, overstuffed by too many demands on our attention.

Discipline, if uncomfortable at first, can bring great joy, and it always brings great freedom. It brings the freedom of knowing the only love that matters—the love of Christ Jesus. It brings the freedom of forgiveness from self-hatred, contempt for others, and our sins. It brings the freedom of knowing, more than anything else, that God does not love us based on what we accomplish but simply for who we are. We don’t need to be overachievers to win God’s love. We simply need to be ourselves, ready to acknowledge our frailty, to repent, and finally, to accept God’s gift of mercy and forgiveness.

How will this season of Lent be a time of renewed commitment to discipline? How might you benefit from such a commitment? How might you be changed? And how might this discipline be not “one more thing” to do, but an embrace of the truth of the love that sets us all free?

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of February 26, 2023

Have you ever been wracked with guilt over something you did, thought that God could not possibly forgive you, and carried the painful guilt so deeply within that you couldn’t let it go? Or do you happen to be an overscrupulous person who is frequently convinced that you have committed grievous sins but aren’t sure how to make amends (or whether you’ve actually sinned at all)? Or have you felt like your own self-reflection and brief recalling of sins before bed or at Mass is not enough to keep you spiritually honest? If you have answered yes to any of the previous questions, then you may find the Reconciliation of a Penitent helpful.

Many Episcopalians (and non-Episcopalians!) are surprised to learn that auricular confession has always been a part of the Anglican tradition. It has not always been made self-evident within the various versions of the Book of Common Prayer, but our current American Book of Common Prayer of 1979 has made this sacrament abundantly explicit. Unlike its predecessor prayer books, the 1979 book has an entire pastoral office for the Reconciliation of a Penitent, including two forms that may be used.

The well-known Anglican adage holds true: “all may, some should, none must.” The Sacrament of Reconciliation is not required by the Episcopal Church. In other words, we don’t say that you have committed yet another sin by not availing yourselves of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. But that doesn’t mean that this particular sacrament would not be of great value to all Episcopalians and Anglicans. Some should. Perhaps, many should.

The purpose of this week’s message is not to explain the theology of the Rite for Reconciliation within the prayer book. That will occur on Sunday after Sung Mass, when I will teach an adult formation class on the Sacrament of Reconciliation in the Episcopal Church. In my opinion, this sacrament is not practiced widely enough in the Anglican Communion nor is it taught about frequently enough. I have found that fulsome teaching about this sacrament of healing can soften people’s various resistances to it.

Some of this resistance is held by those who have experienced private confession within another denomination, specifically the Roman Catholic Church. If this is you, I invite you to attend Sunday’s adult formation class to learn how Anglicans view the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I believe we Anglicans have a beautiful way of looking at it. Or some people may be resisting private confession because of deep post-Reformation suspicions. Why do we need to confess our sins before a priest (representing the Church) if we can do it on our own, keeping it solely between us and God? It’s a good question, and I have a response to it. But that will wait until Sunday!

In short, suffice it to say that the season of Lent is an appropriate time to make a confession. The Sacrament of Reconciliation, unlike confessions at Mass and on our own in the privacy of our homes, keeps us spiritually honest in a completely different way. Private confession has always been a vital part of the Anglo-Catholic witness in the Church. At Good Shepherd private confession can take place any time at the request of a penitent. Should you wish to make a confession this Lent, please contact me to schedule an appointment. The seal of the confessional is morally absolute. The confessional should be the safest place on earth, where trust is at its deepest level. I hope to see you on Sunday for Mass and conversation afterwards!

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of February 19, 2023

One of the gifts of praying the Daily Office is being immersed in the words of holy Scripture. There are some days when, in the moment of praying the Office, the assigned readings are either confusing, disturbing, or seem to have little relevance to our lives. And then later in the day, some event will summon up a phrase from the words read in the morning Office. The Daily Office lectionary has, of course, been established for years, but God knows precisely how to illuminate certain words or phrases for us in the course of our lives.

On Wednesday, the first reading at Morning Prayer consisted of portions from Isaiah 63 and 64. These familiar words leaped off the page for me: “O Lord, thou art our Father; we are the clay, and thou art our potter; we are all the work of thy hand” (63:8). On the eve of Lent, it occurred to me that these words sum up exactly what Lent is: Lent is a season of inner renewal in which we allow ourselves to be clay in the hands of God.

This is not easy work. If I’m honest with myself, I usually want to be the potter for the clay of my life. And God becomes a “consultant” in the process. God, I will do this with my life, and I need this also. Give me advice on how to accomplish it. But am I willing to fully submit myself as unformed clay to the hands of almighty God? That is the hard work of Lent.

It’s not difficult to find Lent burdensome, morose, and devoid of joy, and yet this is precisely the opposite of what Lent should be. Lent is a season of joy found in the gifts of penitence and self-examination. Lent starts not with our sinful nature but with the goodness implanted within us from our birth. Recognizing our tendency towards sin is how to reclaim the original goodness (to quote the late priest and theologian John Macquarrie) latent within us. And we can only do this by being clay to the hands of God the potter.

On Ash Wednesday, February 22, we will hear humbling words as ashes are imposed on our foreheads: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” In the same place on our foreheads where we were anointed with the oil of chrism in baptism, sealed by the Holy Spirit, and marked as Christ’s own forever, we are given a physical reminder of our mortality. But this Lent, could we find joy and hope in the words said to us as ashes are imposed on our foreheads? Being reminded of our mortality enables us to rely on God to be shaped more fully into his likeness. That is something to celebrate.

Lent is a season of fasting, penitence, self-examination, renewal, and living more fully into our baptismal identity. But it’s also a season in which we try to find God’s grace in the disappointments and failures of life. In those humbling moments, we recognize that we cannot find abundant life on our own. And yes, God desires that we have abundant life (see John 10:10). But we need God’s help. After all, we are only clay. God is the potter, and God longs to mold each and every one of us into his likeness, reclaiming the original goodness within us, which God made and knew while we were still in our mother’s womb. We are “marvelously made” (Ps. 139:13).

Please note that on Ash Wednesday we have Low Mass at 8 a.m. and Sung Mass at 7 p.m., both with imposition of ashes. I hope you will made it a priority to come to Mass (or if you can’t make it to Good Shepherd, go somewhere else during your workday) in order to mark the beginning of a holy Lent. Our invitation to a holy Lent is not just about ourselves but about the salvation of the entire world. Join us for Stations of the Cross on Friday evenings at 6 p.m., after Evening Prayer. If you wish to make a private confession, reach out to me at any time to schedule a time for that sacrament. May you find the joy of God’s forgiveness in this Lenten season, and may you assent to the loving, creative hands of God the potter, who is forming you into a new creation.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of February 12, 2023

For the past few days, as I have looked at the news on my computer or smartphone, my heart has sunk at the increasing number of casualties in the earthquake on the border of Syria and Turkey. As of this writing, the dead number over 20,000. Certainly, that number will rise even by the time you read this message. Needless to say, we are praying daily in Morning and Evening Prayer (and when we have Mass) for those affected. It is imperative that we do so. When we gather for public prayer, especially when we gather for Mass, we are offering not just bread and wine, and not merely our selves (souls and bodies), but we are offering the brokenness of the world to God for healing, transformation, and redemption. All of those things are placed on the Altar before God. In the Mass, we pray for God to take all of it, bless it, and give it back to us so that we and the world can be put back together again.

I have been thinking about the meaning and context of public prayer as it occurs in the Mass since I have been preparing for this week’s Pilgrims in Christ class on the Eucharist. In that preparation, I came across some words of the late liturgist Robert Taft: “the purpose of the Eucharist is not to change bread and wine, but to change you and me: through baptism and eucharist it is we who are to become Christ for one another, and a sign to the world that is yet to hear his name” [from “What Does Liturgy Do? Toward a Soteriology of Liturgical Celebration: Some Theses,” in Primary Sources of Liturgical Theology, ed. Dwight Vogel (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2000), 143-44]. God always moves to change us in mysterious ways, but we must be ready and willing to be changed. Part of being changed means bringing not just parts of our selves and bodies into worship but all of it. And along with that, we bring not just money we drop in the collection plate. We bring all the concerns and needs of the world.

This is why the Prayers of the People at each Mass are not meant to be cookie-cutter prayers that eventually become meaningless through rote repetition. As a priestly people, we are obliged to add prayers for those specific needs and concerns that are rising up out of the world’s suffering, injustice, and cries of lament. To do otherwise is insensitive and neglectful of our calling. We name the devastating tragedy in Syria and Turkey in the presence of God and before his Altar, just moments before we bring the fruits of the earth to be taken, blessed, broken, and then shared as a sacramental sign of our interconnectedness with one another. We add prayers for an end to the hideous gun violence that seems never to stop. We pray for those individuals dear to our hearts. All of it needs to be brought before God and not simply captured in large, sweeping swathes of language. We need to be specific so that we can be specific about how we need to be changed by God.

There are moments in preparing the Sunday leaflets when I have to remind myself that I am not doing inconsequential work. There is a certain tedium in making sure the prayer list is up to date, but a reality check usually reminds me that it should be no tedium at all. It is prayerful work. The time and energy spent in keeping our prayer lists relevant and up-to-date, and the naming of all people in need at the Daily Office is the foundation of what it means for us to be a Christian people, a priestly people, always at prayer, interceding on behalf of the world before God’s throne.

If you have gotten in the habit of glossing over the prayer lists in our Sunday leaflets, look at them afresh. We pray through a parish cycle of prayer for parishioners and friends of the parish; your name is probably on that list, and if not, we’d love to add it! Just let me know. We pray for churches in the diocese and dioceses throughout the worldwide Anglican Communion. One of my favorite prayers is for those whom we do not yet know but whom God will bring to this parish to know and love our Lord. That is a pure prayer of submission. We can’t control those people we don’t yet know! Only God will send them here. Look around and notice whom God has sent here.

If you have petitions or names of people you would like to appear on our prayer list, please email Chris Wittrock at office@goodshepherdrosemont.com. Consider incorporating these intentions into your own daily habits of prayer. There is nothing more important we can do than this priestly work. And please pray for the people in Syria and Turkey. If you wish to make a donation to relief efforts through Episcopal Relief and Development, you can do so here. And when you come to Mass each Sunday, bring all that troubles and gives joy to your hearts. Don’t leave anything out. Bring it all, and place it on the Altar.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of February 5, 2023

At our annual parish meeting a couple of weeks ago, I invited the parish into a corporate rule of life. The foundation of all that we do as Christians is worship. Everything else flows from that worship. The life of the Christian is rooted in the praise, adoration, and worship of God. Although some may think that such a focus on worship neglects acts of charity and social justice, nothing could be further from the truth. As the late Roman Catholic monk and spiritual writer Thomas Merton said, contemplative prayer is the root of social justice. We only know how to respond to the world’s injustice if we are grounded in true prayer.

Putting worship first (and not mere programming, activities, or “fun”), is how we are shaped into a Christ-like people. Worship is not something we can control, even though some try to. Worship is pure and unadulterated adoration of God, with no objective other than to give God the glory due his Name and to enjoy God’s presence. There is no hidden agenda. There is no ulterior motive. We don’t (or shouldn’t!) worship in order to gain favor with God or get into heaven. We worship because that is what the Christian does. Worship is the only fitting response to what God has done for us.

I’m now inviting you to consider making intentional worship a part of your own spiritual life. I’m inviting you to think about living into a shared rule of life. But this rule of life is not just some vague thing; it’s a particular way of worshipping in a particular place and location. This rule is enacted geographically in a local context here at Good Shepherd. The late Anglican writer on ascetical theology Martin Thornton said that the “remnant” of the Church consists of those who abide faithfully by a rule of life in a particular parish church. When they do so, they are not narrowly interceding for the parish alone; the parish itself is a microcosm of the entire Body of Christ. Through the deep prayer of the remnant, others are drawn into this “core” of the parish. The remnant at prayer in a parish church (even if only three people) is praying for the entire world.

Thornton notes the threefold structure of an Anglican rule of life: 1) the Daily Office; 2) the Mass (without question on Sundays and Major Holy Days, and perhaps more frequently); and 3) private prayer (including meditative prayer). Good Shepherd’s liturgical life is built around this rule. Will you consider embracing this rule in our own local context? When you can’t be physically in the church on a weekday because of work or other obligations, consider adapting it to your own situation. Mark your day with prayer, wherever you are. A rule of life also demands flexibility.

The advantage of a rule is that we are shaped into the people God is calling us to be. The rule shapes us; we don’t shape it. God is the potter; we are the clay. We don’t observe the rule only when we feel like it. We don’t go to Sunday Mass when it’s convenient; we go when it’s demanded because what has distinguished Christians from the earliest days of the Church was keeping the Lord’s Day. Precisely when we don’t feel like attending Mass, we should go! The most effective way we can all support the work of this parish is to show up constantly to pray together.

One final word: we don’t observe a rule of life to “get” anything. We don’t do it so that this parish will grow. But, if we are indeed to continue to grow for the sake of the Gospel, we will only do so by being a faithful people, praying together (in person) in a particular place and time. We will not attract others to this parish through gimmicks or flashy initiatives. Yes, we absolutely must look outward and be in the community, but only God gives the growth. We pray. We plant seeds. We water them lovingly (frequently in our prayer), and then God gives the growth.

Beginning next week, weekday Masses will be held on Thursdays at 6 p.m. and Fridays at 8 a.m. There will be no Mass on Wednesday mornings. This new schedule will ensure that a congregation will be present for Mass. It seems that the morning Mass time on Wednesday is not good for many people’s schedules. Masses on Major Holy Days will be offered as announced, usually at 6 p.m. on those days. I hope that this new schedule will make it easier for some of you to more fully inhabit our parish rule of life.

Whether you are rejoicing or mourning, busy or underworked, “feeling it” or not, come to church. There is always a good reason to go to church, even if you don’t know what that reason is. Mark your day with prayer. This parish’s doors are open always. We are porous to the world, and we intercede on its behalf daily. How will you participate?

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of January 29, 2023

I’m currently making my way through The Escape Artist: The Man Who Broke out of Auschwitz to Warn the World by Jonathan Freedland. The book tells the story of Rudolf Vrba (born Walter Rosenberg) who escaped the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1944 and then detailed the atrocities happening inside the walls of the camp. While a prisoner at Auschwitz, Vrba utilized the gift of his prodigious mind to memorize the statistics of horror that he witnessed. From the time he entered the camp, Vrba realized that the most effective way he could respond justly to the evil injustice of the Nazi regime was to escape and then warn the world about what was happening at Auschwitz, because the world outside was in many ways blind to the gruesome realities within the concentration camp. This drive to escape and announce the heinous injustice of the Nazi regime was Vrba’s motivation to survive in a place oriented only towards death.

Reading this book has roused many questions for me as a Christian, especially since many of the perpetrators of the Holocaust were self-professed Christians. It brings up the larger question of how any Christian could justify the hideous actions that occurred in the Holocaust. Indeed, vile injustice is rampant among us even today, much of which we are not aware. Undoubtedly, there are people responsible for such injustice who purport to be Christian. How is this so?

And this causes me to think about Christian worship. Worship is not a means to an end; it is the end, but the end should have a transformative effect on our lives. Because of what God has done for us, we can only respond with adoration and praise. And yet. . . there are ethical dimensions to our worship. So, what does it mean when some people attend church faithfully but do not act in love towards their neighbors? What does it mean to be in church every Sunday (or more) and not feel the stirrings of change within oneself? Worship should eventually turn our cold hearts of stone into warm hearts of flesh, on fire with love for God, self, and neighbor. How can one not be changed by the efficacy of the sacraments administered and received? A sacrament might be valid under the right conditions, but what does its efficaciousness look like?

Much of this is a mystery that we will never know, but it behooves us always as Christians to be mindful of the way worship does and should shape our lives. For centuries, many Christians have turned a blind eye towards injustice. Many still do. Christian discipleship demands that we be prepared to let any dissonance between what we profess and what we do disturb us. We are always called to repentance.

On Friday, January 27, we will be holding a Holocaust Remembrance Service at 7 p.m. This is deliberately not an interfaith service because the focus will be on Christian repentance for complicity in injustice. While it may not seem entirely integrous to ask for repentance for those heinous crimes we did not personally commit (such as those in the Holocaust), each of us is always at risk of turning an blind eye to injustice. It is no secret that antisemitism is currently alive and well across the world, and recently it has been given more of a public platform in this nation. Tonight’s liturgy will invite each of us to examine our own sinful behavior and proclivities towards ethical apathy and to ask for God’s forgiveness where such forgiveness is due. This evening’s service will follow the Book of Common Prayer’s “Order for Worship in the Evening,” which has a similar pattern to the evening Office. As permitted by the prayer book, we will say together the Litany of Penitence, found in the Ash Wednesday liturgy but also allowed on other penitential occasions. This evening is one such occasion.

My prayer for the Church of the Good Shepherd is that our robust schedule of liturgies will not become a perfunctory performance of mindless rituals but instead work on us in slow and subtle ways, to shape us and mold us into people who are truly alive in God. Perhaps the words of the prophet Micah, which we shall hear in Mass this Sunday, says it best: “what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8).

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle Babin

Week of January 22, 2023

If you are sitting near your calendar, please mark this Sunday, January 22, on it. After Sung Mass, in accordance with our parish bylaws, we will hold our annual parish meeting. As I mentioned last week, we will elect new vestry members and lay delegates to diocesan convention. We will learn more about the 2023 budget. But most importantly, we will be together as a parish family. Please see this occasion as more than a business meeting; see it as an opportunity to meet together in one space (other than for worship) and to talk about what God has in store for our future. Before Sunday’s meeting, I ask you to please read the 2023 Annual Report. Although I will offer an oral report at the meeting, it will be different from what is written in the annual report. I hope that Sunday’s meeting will be more conversational in tone. Please bring your questions about the 2023 budget or anything else related to the life of the parish. The vestry and I want to hear from you.

In particular, on Sunday, I would like all of us to reflect on our individual role in this parish’s life. We will hear more from St. Paul in Sunday’s second lesson at Mass (as well as in the sermon!), but suffice it to say that St. Paul gives us a robust theology of the Body of Christ. It should go without saying that each of us has particular, unique gifts given by God, not to be squandered or filed away, but to be used for his kingdom. They are to be used in this place. I have said before that I believe each of you has been brought to Good Shepherd because you have some specific role to play in building up the Body of Christ in this local community. It requires prayerful discernment to figure out what that role is. At the end of Sunday’s parish meeting, we will look at all our parish ministries, and I’ll invite you to consider playing an active part in sustaining those ministries. We need your help. But above all, God’s mission needs you, too.

And at our meeting, I will also be asking all present to take a brief survey. Part of this survey is a direct ask for your participation in living into a parish rule of life. Some of the questions will pertain to the need for a slight shift in our daily Mass schedule (not Sundays), and some of them will ask about what other parish ministries you hope might be created and formed over time. For us to grow as a parish, we need to give voice to our hopes and concerns. This Sunday’s meeting is an opportunity for you to do so. I do hope you will make attendance a priority.

As you will read in the Annual Report and hear about on Sunday, despite our challenges (which every parish has), the state of the parish is strong. Hardly a day goes by when I’m not surprised by what God is enabling us to do through his grace. Thank you for your commitment to walking the Christian Way in this place, for sharing your gifts, time, talent, and money. I will look forward to seeing you on Sunday!

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of January 15, 2023

Family dinners were a treasured part of my childhood. It was a beautiful ritual of designating a particular time for dinner, stopping work at that time, washing hands, sitting down, and then enjoying a meal and conversation together. I wonder how common such meals are these days, when we have much more to distract us than when I was growing up. I sincerely hope that even today people are able to put down their smartphones, turn off the TV, and share food and fellowship together.

This is, after all, a part of what we do every Sunday (and even on weekdays) at the Mass. The Mass is a meal, but much more than a meal. It was no coincidence that Jesus chose to gather his disciples (and later, the Church) around food and the act of eating. But the Mass is no ordinary meal. The Mass is not a time for social conversation or casual dining. And so, although we are called to deeper communion with one another at every celebration of the Mass, we must also designate other times in which we can have real conversation, check in with one another, and deepen our bonds of fellowship.

This is one reason our annual parish meeting is so important. True, it is partly a business meeting. We review the previous calendar year, with its accomplishments and challenges. We introduce the vestry-approved budget for the coming calendar year. We elect new vestry members and lay delegates to diocesan convention. But it is much more. It is our family meeting.

I’m aware that some family meetings are contentious and painful. Sometimes, letting those emotions out is necessary to heal, but I can assure you that our recent family meetings at Good Shepherd (and this year’s family meeting!) are not so. I am surprised anew nearly every day with what God is working out within this parish, through your hearts, minds, and many gifts. Undoubtedly, we have challenges, as does every parish. But we are well on our way to finding an even greater place of financial stability. And we are a growing parish, which is quite rare in the Episcopal Church these days and especially because of the COVID pandemic.

On Sunday, January 22, after the Sung Mass, we will hold the 2023 annual meeting. There will be coffee and food, as usual. I encourage each and every one of you to attend. Please make it a priority. This is your opportunity to hear and learn about all the things that happen quietly under the radar in the parish. I want all of you to understand the decisions behind the 2023 budget and to know the financial challenges we face, not so that we can wallow in anxiety but so that we can work together, fervently, to move to greater financial health. It is already happening, but there is much, much more work to be done. We will also do something different in the second part of this year’s annual meeting. We will highlight the many ministries of the parish, noting where we could use more participation, and we will invite you to prayerfully consider taking on a new ministry if your particular gifts align with it. Representatives from the various ministries of the parish will be present to answer questions.

As I noted to the vestry in my report for our January meeting, I believe we have turned a significant corner in the life of this parish. It is now time to share ministries even more broadly among all who worship here. This will help prevent burnout among some. It will make our parish stronger, and it will ensure that ministry here can be sustainable in the long run.

Please mark January 22 in your calendars. Because we are still a small parish, every single person matters enormously. Your participation in the meeting is an investment in the future of the parish, so that God can continue to bless ministry here, further the sacramental witness of the parish, and advance the proclamation of the Gospel. Let’s rejoice in what God is doing among us, and I’ll look forward to seeing you on Sunday, and especially on January 22!

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of January 8, 2023

Twelfth night has just passed, the Christmas season officially ends, and today we arrive at the manger with the magi from the East. This day, the feast of the Epiphany, gets more attention in some corners of the world than in our country and culture. Some churches have even begun transferring this feast to a Sunday. But I relish the fact that the Episcopal Church has committed itself to observing this feast on the day, on whatever day January 6 falls during the week.

Epiphany is one of the seven Principal Feasts of the Church year, an echelon of feast days that surpasses even Major Holy Days in stature. The Biblical story that undergirds this feast, at least in the West, is that of the journey of the magi/wise men to pay homage to the Christ Child in Bethlehem, while also bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to offer him. But Epiphany is so much more than this familiar story. Epiphany celebrates the manifestation of Christ to the world—significantly, to both Jews and Gentiles. This is represented in the pagan magi (perhaps astrologers) meeting Jesus Christ in the manger. Epiphany is also an invitation for us to consider how we, as Christ’s living Body on earth, are able to manifest his good news to the world. What do our actions say about our faith? How do others see Christ in us? Perhaps even more mysteriously, if the magi could somehow find themselves at the manger despite their own religion, can we imagine the ways in which others in our own day are surprisingly finding themselves at the manger without our control or manipulation? Today we rejoice that the glory of God, revealed in human flesh, was not kept secret in some remote corner of the world but was revealed to all peoples and nations. Likewise, today, there is no place on earth that is immune from the reach of the living God.

I hope you will join us for a Procession and Sung Mass this evening (with choir) at 7 p.m. We will also bless chalk for the marking of doors at homes, an Epiphany tradition. You are also invited to bring warm clothes (such as warm shoes, boots, and socks) that we will collect near the crèche for refugees who have been bused to the Philadelphia area. May this be a kind of manifestation of our Christian love and compassion, a gift brought to Christ in the crèche and to Christ in the persons of those refugees in need of care. After Mass, we will have a potluck dinner in the retreat house; bring a dish (and a friend, too!).

If you would like your house blessed during the season after the Epiphany, it is an appropriate time to do so. Please reach out to me. And I pray that the blessing of God will extend through your lives to be a manifestation of his love to the world.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of January 1, 2023

Especially at this time of year, even in the afterglow of Christmas Eve and Day, I am grateful that the Church of the Good Shepherd is not just a Sunday-only parish. Although Sundays tend to be quite full with morning Masses, formation, monthly concerts, and frequent Evensongs, the church is open every single day of the week for public worship (with rare exceptions). In this, we are nearly unique on the Main Line. The Daily Office is prayed Monday through Friday with Morning Prayer at 9 a.m. and Evening Prayer at 5:30 p.m., and with Morning Prayer at 9 a.m. on Saturdays. The Daily Office is also livestreamed, and people join us from across the country. On Wednesday and Friday mornings at 8 a.m., Low Mass is offered. And Low Mass is offered at 8 a.m. on all Major Holy Days (see the calendar of the Church year, beginning on p. 15 of the Book of Common Prayer). On Wednesday evenings at 7 p.m., Dr. Donald McCown, our People’s Warden, leads a new contemplative prayer group, followed by dinner. All are welcome to attend. On Thursday evenings, from 7 to 8:30 p.m., I lead the Pilgrims in Christ adult formation class, a deep journey into the heart of the Christian faith, which also prepares participants for Baptism, Confirmation, Reception into the Episcopal Church, or Reaffirmation of Baptismal Vows.

The former rector of the parish that sponsored me for ordination—an Anglo-Catholic parish—used to say that the daily Mass was the heartbeat of that parish. I would love for us to return to a daily Mass at Good Shepherd, but that will take some time (I can’t say Mass by myself!). But perhaps we could say that the heartbeat of our parish life, for now, is what happens every day—the subdued, consistent worship that happens on days other than Sundays. Yes, Sunday is the day of prime importance as the Lord’s Day, but it spills over into the heart that keeps beating during the week. While the body sleeps and works and does other things, the heart can’t rest. So, daily prayer sustains the spiritual life of our parish.

I have been reflecting on this rhythm of prayer especially this past week, as we have celebrated three Major Holy Days on December 26, 27, and 28. The Church’s calendar takes no break even after Christmas! The Book of Common Prayer (which orders our common life of worship) states that “The Holy Eucharist, the principal act of Christian worship on the Lord's Day and other major Feasts, and Daily Morning and Evening Prayer, as set forth in this Book, are the regular services appointed for public worship in the Church” (p. 11). The prayer book expects that Masses will be offered on Major Holy Days, and so we do at Good Shepherd.

I grew up in a tradition that designated “holy days of obligation.” In my humble opinion, that is not the most enchanting way to speak of sacred days in the Church year. On the one hand, I respect the spirit of making it clear that the faithful will enrich their souls by attending Mass on certain days. On the other hand, “obligation” can lead to a sense of perfunctory observance, with little spirit behind the ritual performance of certain duties and “obligations.” So, to deepen one’s commitment to regular prayer, especially the Mass beyond Sunday, could we, as Christians in the Episcopal tradition, try to see how attending Mass on Major Holy Days is spiritual advantageous? How is it a gift? It is a gift in that we are corporately thankful for God’s gift of Jesus in our lives, and specifically in the Sacrament of the Altar. I do think it is helpful for us to stretch ourselves from time to time, making Church attendance a priority even when we might be tempted to sleep in or do something else. The first step is just to do it, even when we don’t feel like it. I suspect that after we institute this kind of sacred rhythm in our lives, we will feel the benefits, which are part of God’s mysterious workings within us.

It is becoming known that Good Shepherd once again has its doors open on a regular basis. On some of the quietest days during the week, you might be surprised at who comes through our doors for prayer and solace. People light candles at the shrines. They leave prayer requests. Sometimes people in distress come here because they have nowhere else to turn. They know we are here, that we will show up for them. Aside from the inestimable value of prayer itself, this is why keeping the doors open for prayer is so important.

As we begin a new secular year, we might consider some new year resolutions for our parish. Could one resolution be to recommit ourselves anew to inhabiting and living more deeply into the rhythm of prayer already established here? The Daily Office can be led by any lay person, even alone. But for Mass to occur, there must be someone present in addition to a priest. And especially as we invite retreatants into our new retreat house, we are also inviting them into our life of prayer. It is my hope and prayer that this life of prayer will be shared as fully as possible by the parish. If you live relatively close to Good Shepherd, would you consider attending Low Masses on Major Holy Days if your schedule allows? What about the Daily Office? If you can’t make it in person, what about tuning in online (with prayer book in hand!) at 9 a.m. or 5:30 p.m.? Or if even that doesn’t work, perhaps consider praying it on your own at home. While it may seem a chore at times, more often than not, it will become something you find yourselves dependent on, and when you miss, you will feel “off” for the day.

I will close with a bold statement. I’m convinced that the noticeable growth that is taking root again in this parish is because of the rigorous life of prayer we are sustaining. And it’s not about works righteousness. It means that when we pray together we discern most clearly what God is calling us to do and be. Prayer is aligning ourselves with the life of prayer already happening within the Triune God, and then God will use us to work his purpose out in the world.

Please mark Friday, January 6 on your calendar. It’s not only a Major Holy Day but one of the seven Principal Feasts of the Church year. There’s no “obligation” to attend, but I hope you will come to the Procession and Sung Mass at 7 p.m., where we will also bless chalk for the chalking of doors at home. And then bring a potluck dish for a supper afterwards in the retreat house. I also ask you to consider bringing warm shoes and boots (but not sneakers) as well as socks for refugees who have been bused to the Philadelphia area. We will collect them and ensure that they go to those in need. You will be invited to leave them near the crèche at the Epiphany Mass.

May God’s blessing be upon you for the remainder of this Christmastide, and I hope to see you in church on Sunday, as we observe another Major Feast, the Feast of the Holy Name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of December 25, 2022

In our children’s Godly Play class, each Sunday during Advent, we have been preparing to enter the mystery of Christmas. I particularly like the way Godly Play talks about entering that mystery. We are told that you have to take time to get ready to enter a mystery. Advent is four weeks long because Christmas is such a great mystery that you have to take enough time to get ready for it. This time of year, people are hurrying through the malls, shopping, and doing all kinds of things, but they miss the mystery of Christmas, as Godly Play tells us. They don’t know how to enter a mystery, or maybe they forgot.

Do we know how to enter a mystery? Has Christmas become just one more “thing” we have to do? Is it possible to reclaim its mystery in spite of the busyness, stress, and tensions of Christmas “outside the Church”? It is also true that this time of year can be difficult for some. The days are short and dark. Lost loved ones are on our minds. For those who have no family and few friends, it is a lonely time. This, I think, is part of the mystery of Christmas. The mystery of God’s time, of liturgical time, is truth expressed in the only way we can try to express it—in poetry. Jesus was born in a historical year, but he is born anew each year—each day, in fact—in our hearts. The Baby’s birth did not eradicate our darkness, suffering, and problems. It reframed them, it subverted them from below. This is how God works.

This year Christmas Day falls on a Sunday, and there is a particular poetry in this. This is one of the reasons I am in awe of the liturgical/Church year. God’s time breaks in and unfolds in different ways in our own chronological time. The poetry in Christmas Day being on a Sunday is that we celebrate Jesus’s birth on the Lord’s Day, the day we also celebrate his victory over death. And this means that on the day we honor his birth, we also acknowledge his death. This is the mystery that much of the world does not understand or want to understand. The Gospel evangelists were not unaware of this mystery. In St. Luke’s Gospel, Jesus’s swaddling bands also point to the grave clothes he will wear. Each Christmas, during Communion, we sing the wonderful hymn “A stable lamp is lighted,” which brings Jesus’s passion into his birth. We sing the same hymn on Palm Sunday.

This is the heart of the mystery of Christmas and is why it’s good news. At Christmas, we bask in joy and hope, yes, but the Gospel truth is that tied up in all that joy and hope are all the things that afflict us and from which we can’t run. In all that, God comes to us. This is the mystery of God-with-us, Emmanuel.

At this time of year, I’m especially grateful for the faithful service of our hardworking staff, Chris Wittrock, Mary Campbell, and Matt Glandorf. I’m thankful for the presence of Emily Amos our organ scholar as the choir tackles extra music this season. Thank you to our wonderful choir. Thank you to all of you who are making Christmas possible liturgically, but who are too many to name: the acolytes, the Altar Guild, the lectors, the livestream team, and the ushers. So much happens behind the scenes every day at Good Shepherd but especially at this time of year. If you can, come and help us decorate the church today. Pop by at any time or after Evening Prayer.

Finally, I wish you and yours a blessed Christmas. It is my prayer that you can begin to enter into the mystery of this time of year, despite all that makes that difficult. If you are in town, I do hope to see you on Christmas Eve at 6 p.m. (note the time change this year). And since Christmas Day is the Lord’s Day, would you consider coming to Mass on Sunday, too? We will keep our usual schedule. Christmas (The Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ) is one of the principal feasts of the year. I think it deserves all our attention, even attending Mass twice in the span of two days. Let us enter into this mystery will all the vigor, faithfulness, and humility that we can muster. Christ is coming soon. He is knocking at the door. May we open the door and let him in. Merry Christmas!

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of December 18, 2022

I find it difficult to live in 2022 without being a bit impatient. Technology has conditioned me to expect immediate answers. If I need to know the answer to something, I Google it. If I need to look up a word when reading on my Kindle, I tap my finger to the word, and the definition appears instantly. When driving, people will honk at me if I don’t accelerate within a nanosecond of the light turning green. These are superficial examples.

But there are more complex ones. How can we not be impatient for peace when we read of one more mass shooting or consider the war in Ukraine? How can we not yearn for justice for those whose voices are squelched? How can we not be impatient for the truth to be told in the midst of lies?

This is the tension of Advent. It’s difficult to be immersed in Church life and not deal with tension. There’s the already-not yet tension of God’s kingdom partially realized on earth and hardly here in full glory. We carry the image of God, and yet we sin, and so we must journey towards growing more and more into the likeness of God. The entire Church year is an exploration of theological tensions and resolutions.

I admit that I find it difficult to wait. As a former mentor of mine said, I’m impatient for the sake of the Gospel. That’s not a bad thing, if you ask me. We rightly honor the urgency of proclaiming the good news in an age when so many things seem to be working against it. Since coming to Good Shepherd, I have felt the urgency of making haste to grow this parish, move towards greater financial health, and boldly emerge from the cloud of past turmoil.

And yet. . . Advent waiting is more than a guilt-ridden attempt to temper our impatience. Advent waiting is a gift that can allow us to remember that, ultimately, God is in charge. God’s time does not correspond to the urgency of the chronological time we inhabit. This is no excuse to rest on our laurels and support so-called Church decline. Advent waiting is an invitation to let God surprise us with his grace.

I cannot recount how many times I have seen that happen here at Good Shepherd. Waiting on God to act is humbling, and it is one of the most helpful counters to our Pelagian tendencies. When I have felt that we are not growing quickly enough or that we don’t have enough money or resources to move forward, I have always been surprised. New faces have appeared in our midst, eager to be a part of life in this parish. God sent them here; I had nothing to do with it. When I weather a frustrating day, inevitably a thoughtful email or phone call appears. It’s a seemingly small thing, but I’ve learned to be more patient and to look expectantly for these surprising graces from God. In those ways, God encourages us and pushes us along. I wonder how God is doing the same with you.

Some of our Christmas trees may already be up at home. We are purchasing gifts and making travel plans for Christmas. I understand, because fighting “secular culture” is not always the most helpful thing. But inside the Church, we will wait on the Christmas carols. The Christmas trees will not go up until next Friday. And the baby will not be placed in the crèche until the First Mass of Christmas. We will learn to wait on God, because the most surprising blessings happen in that way, if we can wait on them with hopeful expectation.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of December 11, 2022

Church during Advent might look a lot like Lent, with the violet altar frontal, Great Litany on Advent I, and omission of the Gloria in excelsis at Mass. Advent, like Lent, is a penitential season, but it’s also different from Lent. Lent prepares for the mystery of Easter, with a specific focus on living into our baptismal identity. Advent prepares our hearts to greet our Lord at Christmas, in the day to day comings of our Lord into our hearts, and in his full majesty and glory at the end of time. These penitential seasons of the Church year are not intended to be gloomy, although Lent does feel a bit austere when the Alleluias go on vacation for a time. As seasons of preparation, both Advent and Lent call each of us to self-examination and repentance. And yet they also call us to hope.

It is the habit of many Christians to mark these penitential seasons with special spiritual practices. Perhaps you are engaging in some holy reading this Advent. I hope you will take some time to embrace the short season of Advent, even though the world outside the Church is in full-blown Christmas mode. I’d like to suggest some other spiritual practices that you might consider this Advent to prepare your hearts to greet Christ in the manger at Christmas and when he comes again on the Last Day.

This is not the first (and won’t be the last time!) I write about the Sacrament of Reconciliation, or private confession. Before you stop reading (especially if you have had a hurtful or unhelpful experience with confession in the Church or another denomination), I invite you to stay with me just a bit longer. Private confession is not required in the Anglican tradition. The old adage stands: “All may, some should, none must.” God forgives before we even ask, but a gesture of turning again to God—metanoia, repentance—is necessary to see that God has always been standing with arms wide open to welcome us home again. To accept God’s forgiveness, we have to turn. And turning can sometimes be the most difficult thing to do. But if God forgives so readily, why confess one’s sins before a priest? The answer, in my view, is because it’s spiritually beneficial for our souls. It keeps us honest with ourselves, others, and God. It humbles us before God and requires that we not take God’s boundless forgiveness for granted. The general confession at Mass is simply not enough time to do a proper self-examination. Moreover, people often confess “sins” that a priest might counsel are not actually sins. The spiritual counsel of a priest can be valuable in coming to terms with the state of one’s own soul. I believe the world would be a holier, better place if more people practiced private confession. There is no room for dissembling in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Private confession before a priest requires that we be specific about our sins, but then hand all of them over to God. Once they are confessed and absolution is given, they are erased. They are no more. We must move on.

If you would like to make a private confession this Advent (or at any other point), you may contact me to schedule one at any time. You should know that the seal of the confessional is inviolable. I may be your parish priest, but coming to me for confession will not change my attitude toward you. Confessions are absolutely private, even though they are held in the fullness of the Church’s embrace (represented by the priest hearing the confession). The best book I know for preparing for confession in the Episcopal Church is Martin Smith’s Reconciliation. I wholeheartedly commend it to you. I will be teaching more on private confession in an adult formation class in the spring.

This Advent, you might also consider attending a weekday Low Mass on Wednesdays or Fridays at 8 a.m. or on Major Holy Days. And after Christmas, don’t forget that we keep the Major Holy Days during the twelve days with Masses. Maybe this Advent you want to try attending Morning or Evening Prayer one day a week. This parish offers many opportunities to help you prepare room in your hearts for Christ as we approach Christmas.

Whatever you choose as a spiritual practice, I pray that this Advent is a season of blessing for you. The light shines in the darkness. Salvation comes to us in the midst of our sorrow and in a world riddled with deep darkness. Christ is coming again. He comes even now. He is knocking at the door. Let us keep awake and be ready to greet him with plenty of oil in our lamps and candles burning.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of December 4, 2022

We are in the midst of a rich week at Good Shepherd. We have just concluded our second three-day program retreat in our new retreat house. This week’s retreat was entitled “To Charm and Attract: The Mutual Ministry of Priest and Musician” and was led by the Rt. Rev. Frank Griswold, XXV Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church and a good friend of this parish. Gathered for this retreat were clergy and musicians from across the country and Episcopal Church, some of whom work together in parishes. Over the course of three days, Bishop Griswold led retreatants in a conversation about how to prayerfully reclaim “our first love,” referring to the indicting words in the Revelation to John addressed to the Church at Ephesus. The pressing question over the course of this retreat was how, in the midst of the busyness, challenges, and frustrations of ministry, to hold on to that first love of a vocation to serve God in the Church. Over the retreat’s three days, we heard from early Church fathers and the words of holy Scripture. We were honest about the difficulties faced by those in ministry, and we acknowledged that there are few easy solutions to conflicts and tensions within working relationships in the Church. And yet, in the joys and stresses of service to the Church, this week’s retreat was a gentle reminder that it is possible—indeed necessary—not to forget that “first love” and passionate desire of a call to serve our Lord

It just so happens that this weekend we will further reflect on theological desire when we welcome another prominent cleric to Good Shepherd, The Rev. Dr. Sarah Coakley, formerly Norris-Hulse Divinity at the University of Cambridge, UK, and one of today’s foremost Anglican theologians. Mother Coakley has explored issues within religious feminism from an Anglo-Catholic perspective, rooted in patristics and the Church’s deep spiritual tradition. Mother Coakley will lead an Advent Day of Prayer and Reflection this Saturday, December 3, at Good Shepherd from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., focusing on “The Asceticism of Desire in the Anglican Tradition.” Perhaps the main thesis in one of Mother Coakley’s books can serve as an invitation into the upcoming weekend with her: “only a revived, purged—and lived—form of ‘ascetic’ life will rescue the churches from their current theological divisions and incoherences over ‘sexuality’; and only the same authentically ‘ascetic’ life will be demanding enough to command the respect of a post-Christian world saturated and sated by the commodifications of desire” (The New Asceticism, London: Bloomsbury, 2015, pp. 5-6).

In her rigorous scholarship and prayerful practice as a priest in both the Episcopal Church and Church of England, Mother Coakley has sought to address current challenges that modernity poses to the Church without eschewing the deep well of the Church’s spiritual and ascetical tradition. in fact, the Church’s rich spiritual tradition speaks powerfully and freshly to contemporary challenges. As she poses later in The New Asceticism, how do we move “beyond ‘libertinism’ and ‘repression’” (p. 140)? The underlying question to her work on asceticism, as I read it, is this: how can the Church reclaim authenticity, honesty, and unity by engaging theology with faithful and prayerful living, rather than devolving into superficial and divisive polarizations, whether from liberal or conservative points of view?

In addition to her discussions on Saturday, Mother Coakley will also lead periods of contemplative prayer, a kind of prayer that is perfect for Advent, where we wait silently on God’s grace to purge and purify our desires. Mother Coakley will also celebrate Mass as part of Saturday’s day retreat. And on Sunday, Mother Coakley will be the preacher at Sung Mass and then lead us in a conversation on “Advent Fire and the Call to Transformation” after Mass.

It’s not too late to register for Saturday’s day retreat and Sunday’s adult formation class. I hope you will make time in the busyness of December to join us in reflection on the great benefits of the ascetical life and how it can be integrated into our own “secular" lives outside the Church. Please join me in welcoming Mother Coakley to the parish, and I hope to see you on Saturday and Sunday!

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of November 27, 2022

Living into the season of Advent is to live strangely, counterculturally, but wonderfully. Keeping the full season of Advent is strange because around us in CVS and along Lancaster Avenue, Christmas lights and decorations are up. For many, we are entering the “Christmas season.” But we Christians are entering Advent. Advent is also a bit strange vis a vis our culture because it begins a new year—a new Church year, at least. This Sunday, we begin Year A of the three-year lectionary cycle, which is the appointed series of readings for Sunday Masses. In each year of the lectionary cycle, the Gospel readings focus on a particular evangelist for much of the year: Matthew in Year A, Mark in Year B, and Luke in Year C (John is thrown in throughout those years at various times). It’s a gift to journey through the lectionary cycle and hear the good news proclaimed through the particular lenses of the evangelists’ different voices.

I encourage you to be intentional about keeping Advent, not as a defiant churchly stance against “the world,” but as something beneficial for your spiritual lives. Advent is laden with many theological themes: waiting, judgment, eschatology, repentance, and the Incarnation, to name a few. In Advent, we are not only waiting for Christmas and the birth of Christ, but we are waiting for the Second Coming, when as the creeds tell us, Christ will come again to judge the living and the dead. During Advent, we attempt to temper our impatience with a patience for a clearer understanding of God’s movement in our lives. We could even say that Advent has an apophatic character, meaning that instead of throwing a bunch of words at God to get him to do something for us, we wait, perhaps in silence, for God’s action. We might more accurately say we wait for an awareness of God’s action among us.

At Good Shepherd, we are intentional about marking the season of Advent and trying to keep it distinct from the Christmas season (which, after all, lasts for twelve days). Vestments and liturgical colors change to violet, the color of kings, as we await the King of kings. We begin the season of Advent with the chanting of the Great Litany in procession at the beginning of Sung Mass, noting that there is a somewhat penitential character to Advent, although it is quite distinct from Lent. This Advent, can the chanting of the Great Litany be for us a way to lament the destruction around us: the mass shootings, the earthquake in Indonesia, the trenchant political divisions, and the lingering illness wrought by a pandemic?

There are also planned events during Advent that can enrich your own spiritual journey this season. On the weekend of December 3-4, the Rev. Professor Sarah Coakley, formerly Norris-Hulse Professor of Divinity at the University of Cambridge and an Anglican priest, will be with us to to offer an Advent Day of Prayer and Reflection on “The Asceticism of Desire in the Anglican Tradition,” preach at the Sunday Sung Mass, and lead adult formation after Mass. Register here for the day of theological reflection and contemplative prayer, and here for the Sunday adult formation presentation and discussion. And on Sunday, December 11, we will offer a beautiful candlelit service of Advent Lessons and Carols, sung by our choir, at 3 p.m. Please mark your calendars and consider inviting a friend to attend.

Finally, you may wish to engage in some intentional spiritual reading this Advent as we wait on God. There are many books out there designed to aid your journey through this season, but might I offer a few suggestions? Rowan Williams’s Ponder These Things: Praying with Icons of the Virgin is a beautiful theological and pictorial foray through meditating on images of the Incarnation. You might also like to look at some of Sarah Coakley’s works in preparation for her visit to the parish. The New Asceticism is a good place to start. Other important works are God, Sexuality, and the Self , and for the ambitious (!) Powers and Submissions: Spirituality, Philosophy, and Gender. And as we enter the “year of Matthew” in our lectionary cycle, perhaps you would like to find a commentary or book that will guide you through a prayerful reading of that Gospel. For those of you who love poetry, I also highly recommend Malcolm Quite’s fantastic book Waiting on the Word: A Poem a Day for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany.

May this Advent be for all of us a prayerful and intentional season of waiting on Christ’s coming at Christmas, on Christ’s coming at the end of time to judge the living and dead and bring justice to a broken world, and on Christ’s daily coming into our hearts. Let us open our hearts, make room, and let him in.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of November 20, 2022

If there is one word that encapsulates the heart of Christian worship, prayer, and action, it is thanksgiving. We are a Eucharistic people. The word Eucharist comes from the Greek word eucharisteo (“I give thanks”), and the Eucharist/Mass is the central act of worship for us. Attending Mass is not a mere perfunctory obligation; it is a genuine act of thanksgiving. It is a heartfelt response to God’s first love for us and for all that he has given us. Properly understood, it is never a mere obligation.

Hardly a day goes by in ministry at Good Shepherd when I am not called to pause and give thanks for some blessing, big or small. This week I have been giving thanks for the generosity of those who have pledged towards ministry in 2023. Some days, it’s a kind word from a parishioner or someone else that causes me to render a small prayer of thanks to God. What is it for you? Is it the good news of someone’s recovery from an illness? Or in times of difficulty and trial, is your expression of thanks simply that God has given you the strength to tough it out?

There is very little we should fear more than an ungrateful heart. Ingratitude starts in small ways, and then it begins to ossify our spiritual arteries. Before long, all we can see is negativity. All we can offer are biting words, and the glass is always half empty. This is what Scripture calls sklerokardia (“hard-heartedness”).

Truth be told, gratitude does not always come easily. That’s why it must be practiced, as with any spiritual practice. Have you considered ways to incorporate intentional gratitude in your own lives? Perhaps it’s as simple as making a list each day of everything for which you’re thankful. Perhaps you might practice the Ignatian examen, prayerfully reviewing your day to recall the ways in which the Holy Spirit was speaking to you and finding gratitude even in those frustrating moments. At the very least, disappointments teach us to be humble. One of my favorite lines in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer is in “A General Thanksgiving, p. 836), where we thank God “for those disappointments and failures that lead us to acknowledge our dependence on [God] alone.”

As we approach the American holiday of Thanksgiving, can we allow Thanksgiving to be more than just one secular holiday for us? Can we reclaim the core of what it means to be a Christian? I firmly believe that if we are grateful we are more generous. And generosity begets generosity. I have seen it in my own life. I have seen it in this parish. Precisely when you don’t believe you have enough time or money to give is exactly when you should give it. You will be changed.

We have much to celebrate and give thanks for in this parish. Because I will be away from Tuesday to Saturday of next week, we will celebrate Mass using the Thanksgiving Day propers this Monday, November 21, at 6:30 p.m. in the Lady Chapel. Please come! Sign up here, and bring a potluck dish from your family’s heritage for our simple feast afterwards in the retreat house. The house will be open before Mass, so you can leave your dish inside before heading to the Lady Chapel. Let’s celebrate together as a parish.

Should you have any pastoral emergency next week while I’m away, you can call the parish office (610-525-7070), and you will be directed to my cell phone. I will then put you in touch with a local priest on call for such emergencies. I wish you and yours a wonderful holiday, and I hope to see you on Monday for our parish celebration!

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of November 13, 2022

For the past six weeks or so of our advancement campaign, you have been hearing a lot about the practical reasons why giving to ministry at Good Shepherd is important. Those reasons are obvious: to keep the lights on, pay staff, and fund ministries, money is essential. But, by far, the most important reason to give towards ministry is because it is one of the most beneficial spiritual practices possible.

Is there any other material thing in our lives than money that gets more of our mental bandwidth, worry, and planning? Which of us doesn’t constantly check our bank balances or watch how our savings accounts are doing if we even have such savings? Day after day, we receive constant messages, whether explicit or implicit, that we need to worry about our finances. There is something practical to all this. And because of all the attention we give to money, parting with our money is perhaps the most difficult spiritual thing we can imagine. Which is why it’s spiritually beneficial for each of us to give money to ministry. This is not giving something that is ours, but, rather, giving back to God what is rightly God’s.

Giving is a spiritual discipline because, at its heart, it reminds us that all the stuff of our lives that we think defines us and protects us really doesn’t. Giving reminds us that we are completely and utterly dependent on God. Like any discipline, the practice of giving is painful at first. I dare say that it is always a bit painful, but over time, it expands our hearts so that the pain is less palpable. The pain is simply a part of the purgative and healing process, for we find that our priorities change. Perhaps we find ourselves less anxious. Above all, we find that we are putting our complete trust in God. In some small way, we are assuming the self-emptying posture of a Christ-shaped life.

I have heard advice given in stewardship campaigns that one should give until it feels good. I think I understand what this means: give until your generosity feels like the right thing to do. But I wonder if it’s better advice to encourage giving until it is a bit uncomfortable. If our financial gift to the church is not making us a bit uncomfortable, then perhaps we need to give more. This is countercultural, because we are usually told to prioritize all the practical aspects of our household, then give what we can to God. Sacrificial giving operates in the opposite way. Give to God first, then figure everything else out.

As we approach Commitment Sunday this weekend, I offer thanks to those of you who have already made pledge commitments for 2023. The future of this parish and its life-changing ministry is dependent on your generous gifts of money, time, and talents. Even if you have pledged online, please bring a pledge card on Sunday to offer as a visible sign of your support for God’s work in this parish. And if you have not yet pledged, please join me in prayerfully considering how much to give as a spiritual practice for the health of all our souls. If you have pledged before, would you please consider increasing your pledge to match with rising costs of utilities and other cost of living increases? If you are new to pledging, would you consider making a tithe (10% of one’s household income) or at least setting a goal to work towards a tithe? Please recall, too, the distinction between pledging and plate giving. They are not the same, nor are they mutually exclusive. Nor are our gifts of time and talents interchangeable with financial giving precisely for the reasons I have mentioned above. We are to give to God something of all of our lives.

There are manifold reasons to financially support Good Shepherd. But above all, our own giving models God’s abundant giving to us. God gives generously to us even when we fail to give to him in return. Good Shepherd, while confronting its immense financial challenges is giving in so many ways to the community and church in spite of its situation; our giving to the world is not tied to expectations of reciprocity. And each of us is called to give in such a reckless and extravagant way. It’s good for God’s mission and the proclamation of the gospel. But above all, it is good for our souls. I look forward to seeing you on Sunday.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle

Week of November 6, 2022

Because you are reading this weekly message, God has brought you to the Church of the Good Shepherd, for whatever reason. I don’t believe in coincidences, and so I believe that God has connected you with this parish because you have some particular gift or wisdom to share for the sake of God’s kingdom. Some of you who are reading this message may be regular recipients of our weekly email. Some of you may worship at Good Shepherd on Sundays, others on special occasions. A number of you may live far from southeastern Pennsylvania and have been prompted, for whatever reason, to establish a relationship with the Church of the Good Shepherd. I am thankful for that.

Not only do I believe that God has brought each and every one of you to this parish, whether virtual or physical; I also trust that each of you has a particular gift that is needed for the flourishing of Christ’s good news in this small parish. Is there anything that is more countercultural in today’s age than to acknowledge the value of every single person and their unique gifts? We are too often told that we must be geniuses or prodigies in our respective disciplines in order to receive recognition. Bigger is better. Loud voices gain the most attention. Flashiness wins the day. But the Gospel tells us that the world is bereft if one person’s unique gifts go unused.

I wonder what gifts you have that God desires for you to use, in your careers, in your social relationships, in your local community, and certainly in this parish. Setting aside any possible objections, would you consider with me for a minute that even geographical distance is no longer necessarily a barrier to participation in ministry in this parish? The digital world has opened up possibilities for expanded connections and, if we think creatively, for harnessing heretofore unseen power to spread the Gospel to the ends of the earth. How can we claim this power as a gift from God, in the face of the darker side of technology and social media?

Just as I believe you have been brought to Good Shepherd to participate in some particular way in ministry, I also believe that there are many, many others whom God would like to bring here. Many of them, I dare say, don’t even know they have certain gifts. Many have gifts that are shunned outside of the Church. Many could never imagine that their true home might be as part of a community living intentionally as the Body of Christ. Just as I believe that God moves people to find particular communities of faith, I also am convinced that we as representatives of one community of Jesus’s disciples must be actively open and alert to who those people are around us. God longs to use us to help them find their true home in God.

I believe that God yearns for you to use your gifts for his kingdom. It may seem like there are too many demands on your time, but I encourage you to consider that there is some way you can serve the work of the Gospel. In fact, I would be so bold as to say that serving God’s kingdom should surpass any other claims on our time. I would eagerly welcome the opportunity to talk more with you about how to discern ways in which you can serve Christ here. Please contact me.

But beyond your own individual discernment, I also ask you to consider some easy ways in which God might be using you to bring others into Christ’s good news. You are probably aware that there is much worship, as well as programs and activities, happening in this parish. It is not just busyness. I’m convinced that all that is occurring here is a ripe field for harvesting fruit for God’s kingdom. Will you help invite people into this labor? Might I suggest a few easy ways?

Let people know honestly but without pressure why you take time to connect with the Church of the Good Shepherd. Tell others why you value this community of faith. Let people know that, contrary to what some Christians are claiming, the Gospel is the good news of God’s love for all of us. If you live locally, invite someone to any of our upcoming events. Offer to give them a ride and bring them here. If you live far off, share one of our events on Facebook. I don’t think we should ever underestimate the power of personal invitation. And don’t underestimate the desire of some people to be invited or asked to attend a service or event. Some of your friends and acquaintances just might be longing for you to do so.

There are many other ways that every single one of you can be a part of harvesting the abundant fruit of the harvest God has prepared for us. But start small and start in ways that are authentic and honest for you. Each of you has been brought here, physically or virtually, for a reason. Pray that God might help you use your own unique gifts to his glory and honor. And if I can assist your personal discernment in any way, I would welcome the opportunity to do so.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle