Mtr Taylor Devine

Dear Friends,

I have a recurring nightmare, but it’s not a nightmare—it’s a midday realization. “I haven’t written that thank you note!” I know for some this may feel like a trivial thing, but for others—it is a nightmare!

For some of us a hand-written note means the world. For others it’s the quality of attention paid to a conversation. For others, it’s a small gift or a memory shared that makes us feel seen. These differences are not always easy to guess based on age or background; we’re pretty individual across all spectrums as far as how we like to be appreciated. 

My go-to for sharing appreciation has generally been writing. I have a picture of my large dining room table full of outgoing thank you notes for parishioners at Saint Philip’s from March 2020—a moment to pause if there ever was one.

However, who I am in January 2023 just can’t seem to get to them. They’re the “to do” list item that eventually goes so far down the list that they fall off. That’s a bit embarrassing for me, but as I re-calibrate to who I am and where the world is in 2023 I have another reason to be grateful: the grace extended over these past many months of personal and communal and societal flux. Choosing to imagine the best intent on the part of our neighbors is an investment in relationship that goes a long way; thank you!

Over the 12 Days of Christmas, again, I thought I should write some notes that I didn’t get to. There were the volunteers at the Thanksgiving dinner that made us all welcome. There were the Church Mice and Acolytes who made a funeral and reception happen for strangers with great flexibility the day after Thanksgiving. There were those who skillfully organized end-of-year service projects, final Mosaic dinners of the year, the prep for Christmas that makes it such a holy night for so many, the moment of pause after Christmas. It was a busy and beautiful fall in this community, and there is so much for which to be grateful.

Today’s Gospel reading from Mark’s second chapter paints a picture of Jesus’ early ministry where he sits readily with tax-collectors and notorious sinners and with his disciples—the future saints of the Church. The respected people of the community asked “Why does he eat with tax-collectors and sinners?” When Jesus heard this, the said to them, ‘Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.’ ”

Jesus calls us in our diversity into his body, the Church. He binds together people who have different gifts and needs and gives us a shared promise and hope. Thank you for showing me how we rest in that relationship even in changing times.

In Christ, 

—Mtr Taylor