by Fr. Michael Plekon You probably know that July 4 was NOT the actual day of the birth of America as an independent nation. The Declaration of Independence was presented on July 1, 1776 and signed the next day. President John Adams always held either of those two dates should be celebrated as the founding date. Be that as it may, July 4 became the birth date and here we are, 250 years later. You have heard many thoughts about the 250th anniversary happening at this moment in our history. The presidentially supported “official” celebrations on the Mall in Washington have been underwhelming. Some have chosen to talk more about their special issues, and grievances. Complaining has become part of the regular public discourse in the US. “God bless the USA” is taken as kind of national anthem for its glorification of our land without the slightest reservation or notice of what’s been done poorly. You can only patriotically praise the country, though the loudest promotors have a list of things about which they are very angry. In the more distant past, parades, tall ships, speeches and music made for upbeat celebrations. With flags and red, white and blue bunting on the streets and buildings, there was a clear positive, patriotic feeling to the Fourth. Most of us remember barbecues and picnics, gatherings of families and neighbors, and of course the fireworks. A few have urged us to take a moment to reflect on what an amazing experiment this America has been. In the spring, PBS broadcast Ken Burns’ excellent documentary series on the Revolution, where it came from, how it led to a deadly war, and finished with the Continental Congress at last agreeing to a Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights for a new nation. Burns’ series was a revelation, even for those of us who thought we knew the history. For me, the isolation and insulation of the colonies from each other, their ignorance of even their nearest neighboring colony, the sheer diversity of religious, political and economic ways of life made it exceedingly difficult for the lot of them to come together and take action. Many in the colonies were loyalists to the King and could not imagine not being His Majesty’s subjects, citizens of a great nation with great history of law, culture and belief in human rights (for some, mainly white males). Yet, convinced there could be a future as a free land, they overcame suspicions, prejudice, and sheer ignorance of each other to start behaving as a community, a nation united “in the pursuit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” as the Declaration puts it. The ability to live free of distant rulers, and to be able to determine their own laws and form of government were central but not the only truths that they found self-evident. They would be appalled at some of what is said and done in America now. As former British citizens they put a great value on being a nation of laws, not political factions dominated by a leader or grievances and issues. They owned slaves, had profound religious and cultural prejudices, this cannot be forgotten. There was little space for you in 1776 America if you were Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, indigenous people or persons of color, or women for that matter. Despite settlers from Sweden, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and the presence of Spaniards in New Spain, those who represented the colonies were all male, white, and mostly Protestant. But even here, while most came from Anglican/Episcopal Congregational, Presbyterian and Quaker churches, some were outside traditional Christianity, like Jefferson, Franklin and Adams. A few were identified with churches but rarely if ever attended. So much for the claim that America was founded as a Christian nation. The 56 delegates who signed would have said no to this. The closer one looks at those who took the step to declare independence and start a new government and country, the more one sees discernment and commitment to change. Yet even after this groundbreaking start, there would be deep disagreements, as the arguments among them—Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, Franklin-- and the demands of fighting a war ensued. Put simply, the founders were a mix of great ideals, contentious disagreement, and sometimes petty prejudices. This would prove true later when the country split in the Civil War. It continues to this day, even though we have come together and done the seemingly impossible, as in opposed the Axis of Germany and Japan in WWII. Going forward, we can be encouraged by the founders, for even in their often messy humanity, more often the good, the beautiful and the true won out. They were able to identify the protections, rights and necessary checks and balances for a national government as well as find the local state versions of the same. So, in our brief moment of celebration now, we should be grateful for what they were able to accomplish, but as we move forward, we need to hold on to the best of what they stood for, no matter how other voices may drone these out. We have always been a diverse people, a nation of immigrants, a community that displays many religious, cultural and social differences. But there is something that can hold us together as Americans, something more than apple pie and, baseball both of which I dearly love. Happy 250th birthday America, happy Fourth.
by Fr. David Madsen You’ve heard the phrase “the dog days of summer”, those heavy, hot weeks of July and August when even the dogs seem to give up and flop onto the nearest patch of shade. But the name actually comes from Sirius, the bright “dog star” in Canis Major, rising with the sun and signaling the most sweltering stretch of the season. Why do I love these dog days? Yes, the desert heat can be fierce, but many of you know this is when I slip out early in the morning or later in the evening to work on sermons and articles. The desert, what Scripture often calls the wilderness, has always been a place of rest, prayer, and clarity. Jesus sought it out when He needed quiet, and He encouraged His followers to do the same. I suppose I’m guilty of following His lead. Most Mondays, and many Saturdays, I find a quiet desert spot, or sometimes the mountains, to look at Sunday’s message. Out there, the words open up. The silence helps. It’s become my oasis, my year-round rhythm, not just a summer habit. Naomi can testify to that. As July and August unfold and summer leans toward autumn’s gold, I wish you rest, renewal, and maybe a quiet oasis of your own. Father Dave
Hello Members and Friends, We all hit potholes in life — the kind that drop us suddenly into emptiness with no clear way out. I went there, and I know many of you have too. In those moments, our plans can feel dead in the water. Rearranging the future seems as impossible as trying to tune in a television stuck on static. Everything feels suspended, uncertain, out of reach. As a leader in the church and the community, I carry a responsibility to walk beside people in those hard places. Some struggles pass quickly, but others stay. Over the years I’ve walked with folks — mostly older, but some younger — through their final months, weeks, and days. In those seasons, worldviews shift. Plans dissolve. The future they imagined simply falls away. My role is to be present: to bring the love of family and friends when they’re near, and to be the friend when no one else is left. Some want to hear about hope beyond this life; some don’t. Either way, the ministry is the same — to walk besides, offering comfort, to stay. Many of you have faced life-changing potholes that weren’t life-ending but still left you shaken. In those moments, it’s easy to feel lost. But there is a way forward, even if it takes time. And I believe it’s our shared calling — mine as a pastor, yours as neighbors and friends — to show up for one another. Presence is often the greatest gift we can offer. Sometimes the only one. This isn’t a message of gloom. It’s a message of honesty — and hope. Hope for better days when they come and hope for courage and companionship when they don’t. When life leaves us water bound — or even shipwrecked — the way ahead can vanish. Plans fall apart, and we’re left holding whatever pieces still float. I invite you to hear Waterbound as a companion for those moments when you feel cut off or overwhelmed. Listen: Waterbound” – Dirk Powell & The Transatlantic Musicians (Transatlantic Sessions) Father Dave+
by Fr. Michael Plekon You probably know that July 4 was NOT the actual day of the birth of America as an independent nation. The Declaration of Independence was presented on July 1, 1776 and signed the next day. President John Adams always held either of those two dates should be celebrated as the founding date. Be that as it may, July 4 became the birth date and here we are, 250 years later. You have heard many thoughts about the 250th anniversary happening at this moment in our history. The presidentially supported “official” celebrations on the Mall in Washington have been underwhelming. Some have chosen to talk more about their special issues, and grievances. Complaining has become part of the regular public discourse in the US. “God bless the USA” is taken as kind of national anthem for its glorification of our land without the slightest reservation or notice of what’s been done poorly. You can only patriotically praise the country, though the loudest promotors have a list of things about which they are very angry. In the more distant past, parades, tall ships, speeches and music made for upbeat celebrations. With flags and red, white and blue bunting on the streets and buildings, there was a clear positive, patriotic feeling to the Fourth. Most of us remember barbecues and picnics, gatherings of families and neighbors, and of course the fireworks. A few have urged us to take a moment to reflect on what an amazing experiment this America has been. In the spring, PBS broadcast Ken Burns’ excellent documentary series on the Revolution, where it came from, how it led to a deadly war, and finished with the Continental Congress at last agreeing to a Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights for a new nation. Burns’ series was a revelation, even for those of us who thought we knew the history. For me, the isolation and insulation of the colonies from each other, their ignorance of even their nearest neighboring colony, the sheer diversity of religious, political and economic ways of life made it exceedingly difficult for the lot of them to come together and take action. Many in the colonies were loyalists to the King and could not imagine not being His Majesty’s subjects, citizens of a great nation with great history of law, culture and belief in human rights (for some, mainly white males). Yet, convinced there could be a future as a free land, they overcame suspicions, prejudice, and sheer ignorance of each other to start behaving as a community, a nation united “in the pursuit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” as the Declaration puts it. The ability to live free of distant rulers, and to be able to determine their own laws and form of government were central but not the only truths that they found self-evident. They would be appalled at some of what is said and done in America now. As former British citizens they put a great value on being a nation of laws, not political factions dominated by a leader or grievances and issues. They owned slaves, had profound religious and cultural prejudices, this cannot be forgotten. There was little space for you in 1776 America if you were Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, indigenous people or persons of color, or women for that matter. Despite settlers from Sweden, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and the presence of Spaniards in New Spain, those who represented the colonies were all male, white, and mostly Protestant. But even here, while most came from Anglican/Episcopal Congregational, Presbyterian and Quaker churches, some were outside traditional Christianity, like Jefferson, Franklin and Adams. A few were identified with churches but rarely if ever attended. So much for the claim that America was founded as a Christian nation. The 56 delegates who signed would have said no to this. The closer one looks at those who took the step to declare independence and start a new government and country, the more one sees discernment and commitment to change. Yet even after this groundbreaking start, there would be deep disagreements, as the arguments among them—Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, Franklin-- and the demands of fighting a war ensued. Put simply, the founders were a mix of great ideals, contentious disagreement, and sometimes petty prejudices. This would prove true later when the country split in the Civil War. It continues to this day, even though we have come together and done the seemingly impossible, as in opposed the Axis of Germany and Japan in WWII. Going forward, we can be encouraged by the founders, for even in their often messy humanity, more often the good, the beautiful and the true won out. They were able to identify the protections, rights and necessary checks and balances for a national government as well as find the local state versions of the same. So, in our brief moment of celebration now, we should be grateful for what they were able to accomplish, but as we move forward, we need to hold on to the best of what they stood for, no matter how other voices may drone these out. We have always been a diverse people, a nation of immigrants, a community that displays many religious, cultural and social differences. But there is something that can hold us together as Americans, something more than apple pie and, baseball both of which I dearly love. Happy 250th birthday America, happy Fourth.
by Fr. David Madsen You’ve heard the phrase “the dog days of summer”, those heavy, hot weeks of July and August when even the dogs seem to give up and flop onto the nearest patch of shade. But the name actually comes from Sirius, the bright “dog star” in Canis Major, rising with the sun and signaling the most sweltering stretch of the season. Why do I love these dog days? Yes, the desert heat can be fierce, but many of you know this is when I slip out early in the morning or later in the evening to work on sermons and articles. The desert, what Scripture often calls the wilderness, has always been a place of rest, prayer, and clarity. Jesus sought it out when He needed quiet, and He encouraged His followers to do the same. I suppose I’m guilty of following His lead. Most Mondays, and many Saturdays, I find a quiet desert spot, or sometimes the mountains, to look at Sunday’s message. Out there, the words open up. The silence helps. It’s become my oasis, my year-round rhythm, not just a summer habit. Naomi can testify to that. As July and August unfold and summer leans toward autumn’s gold, I wish you rest, renewal, and maybe a quiet oasis of your own. Father Dave
Hello Members and Friends, We all hit potholes in life — the kind that drop us suddenly into emptiness with no clear way out. I went there, and I know many of you have too. In those moments, our plans can feel dead in the water. Rearranging the future seems as impossible as trying to tune in a television stuck on static. Everything feels suspended, uncertain, out of reach. As a leader in the church and the community, I carry a responsibility to walk beside people in those hard places. Some struggles pass quickly, but others stay. Over the years I’ve walked with folks — mostly older, but some younger — through their final months, weeks, and days. In those seasons, worldviews shift. Plans dissolve. The future they imagined simply falls away. My role is to be present: to bring the love of family and friends when they’re near, and to be the friend when no one else is left. Some want to hear about hope beyond this life; some don’t. Either way, the ministry is the same — to walk besides, offering comfort, to stay. Many of you have faced life-changing potholes that weren’t life-ending but still left you shaken. In those moments, it’s easy to feel lost. But there is a way forward, even if it takes time. And I believe it’s our shared calling — mine as a pastor, yours as neighbors and friends — to show up for one another. Presence is often the greatest gift we can offer. Sometimes the only one. This isn’t a message of gloom. It’s a message of honesty — and hope. Hope for better days when they come and hope for courage and companionship when they don’t. When life leaves us water bound — or even shipwrecked — the way ahead can vanish. Plans fall apart, and we’re left holding whatever pieces still float. I invite you to hear Waterbound as a companion for those moments when you feel cut off or overwhelmed. Listen: Waterbound” – Dirk Powell & The Transatlantic Musicians (Transatlantic Sessions) Father Dave+
