Sunday, October 12

Post Written By: Josh North, Vestry Member While you may have heard of Dollar Sunday, you may not know its origin. The idea came from dedicated parishioner Al Parrillo, who believed one Sunday each month should be set aside to collect funds specifically for the maintenance and preservation of our beautiful church property. This month, our Dollar Sunday focus will be on the memorial garden. We are hoping to raise $500 to help cover expenses for some projects to help with covering an electrical conduit, painting, fencing, and other needs to prepare the area. As both a Vestry member and a fellow parishioner, I see the great love and generosity you all show this church every day. I know you give freely, and I humbly ask that you consider making a contribution—large or small—to this month’s Dollar Sunday goal. Your help is essential to making this project a reality. Thank you so much for your continued generosity.

This weekend we remember St. Francis of Assisi, one of the most - if not the most - beloved saints of the Church (after St. Thomas obviously). Francis is best known as the patron saint of animals. Inspired by blessed Francis we invite all God’s creatures great and small to worship on Sunday at 10am, and at 11am for a brief blessing service outside on the lawn. Please note the 8am liturgy will be an animal free zone. I hope you will join us for these gathering and encourage your friends to come along and join us for the glorious adventure which is about to unfold. Seriously bring whatever animals you have - cats, dogs, chickens, goats, cows, horses - all are welcome! Blessed Francis’ legacy goes far beyond his love of animals, though the other part of his story is often neglected. Francis made the bold decision, to follow the call of Jesus, giving up all that he had to serve the poor. There is a dramatic story of this moment, but you’ll have to come join us this weekend to hear the rest of the tale. Blessed Francis’ commitment to his faith allowed him to proclaim the Gospel not only in words but in deeds. By renouncing the vanities of this world, Francis was able to live in harmony with creation in a way he could not do otherwise. He literally cast off all the things that seperated him from God - that put barriers in his relationship. This took tremendous courage, and was a serious risk, but in the process he discovered a life more abundant than he could have ever imagined. Just like Blessed Francis we are called to give sacrificially for the work of God - giving of our financial resources, our talents, our time, and our very lives. As we gather this weekend, may we be inspired by the witness of Francis, and give fully to the work of God in this place. Most high, omnipotent, good Lord, grant your people grace to renounce gladly the vanities of this world; that, following the way of blessed Francis, we may for love of you delight in your whole creation with perfectness of joy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen (Collect for Francis of Assisi).

This Sunday we continue our journey through the Gospel of Luke. In particular we hear the story of Dives and Lazarus, which follows immediately after the parable of the unjust steward which we hear this past Sunday. Whenever I hear this passage two things immediately come to my mind. The first is Ralph Vaughn Willams “Five Variants of ‘Dives and Lazarus.’” A beautiful piece which you can listen to here . And yes, I am listening to it as I write this. The second, is a bit more . . . out of the box . . . for this passage also brings to mind the phrase “it’s getting late early,” one of the great sayings from Yogi Berra; the legendary New York Yankees catcher, not to be confused with the cartoon bear of a similar name. Now Berra originally said this as a statement about the shadows over the outfield late in the season making it difficult to see, but over time it has come to refer to situations of great urgency. When time is growing short and things need to change. So what’s this, you might be wondering, have to do with the story of Dives and Lazarus. Well, I’m glad you asked. In this story we hear of a Dives, a rich man, who enjoys all the finer things in life; and of Lazarus, a poor man suffering at the rich man’s gate. When Lazarus dies he is carried away by angels to be with Abraham. The rich man dies, is buried, and ends up in Hades where is he tormented. From Hades, Dives calls up to Abraham asking for relief, but the gap between the two places cannot be crossed. When his request is denied and he learns there is no hope for him; he asks Abraham to send Lazarus to his brothers that they might be warned and spared the fate he now endures. Again Abraham says no. He tells Dives that they have Moses and the prophets to listen to. Dives insists. Then the passage ends with Abraham saying, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises form the dead” (Luke 16:31, NRSV). This passage is a stark reminder that our actions have consequences; that what we do in this life matters - especially when it comes to how we treat those in need. It is also a reminder that there is urgency. This passage invites us to consider who are the poor at our door. While we might not literally find people in poverty at our doorstep, that does not mean we are without neighbors in need. How do we care for them? How do we recognize and honor their humanity? How do we see them as beloved children of God? We have heard from Moses and the prophets, we have heard from the apostles and martyrs, we have heard from Jesus himself. My friends, it’s getting late early. We must act while there is time. Let us not be complacent thinking there will be time later. Many in the world around us are hurting and in need of help and comfort; needing someone to tell them the good news of God. Let us be those people. We cannot fix everything, but we can make a difference in this world one person at a time. Let us find Lazarus in our own time, that he might know good things as well.

I had to laugh when I first read the Collect of the Day for this Sunday. At the outset of our liturgy we will pray: Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen (BCP p. 234). Truth be told, I barely made it through the first few words before I started to chuckle. “Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things.” Over the last nearly 12 weeks I have been dealing with levels of anxiety I’ve rarely known previously thanks to the severe flare up of my degenerative disc disease. But, if I’m being truly honest, the uncertainty around my health is not the only anxiety producing thing in these days. We are living through another era in human history that is incredibly anxiety producing: war and the threat of war rages around the world, this fragile earth our island home is in crisis as environmental catastrophe looms, poverty and hunger are on the rise, economic uncertainty prevails, political violence plagues our nation, not to mention all the everyday personal things that keep us up at night. Frankly, there have been some upsides to being largely home bound for the last two and a half months. It seems that it is for such a time as this that our Collect of the Day was written. It is far too easy to be overwhelmed by all that is happening in our nation and in the world. It is far too easy for us to be pulled in every direction trying to process it all, and maybe even easier to stick our heads in the sand ignoring it all. But that is not what we are called to. We are called to keep our attention fixed on the things of God. We are called to “love things heavenly.” Our collect reminds us that nothing in this world lasts forever. Only God is eternal. While these earthly things pass away around us, our task is to hold onto God and the promises God has made to us. God through the prophets of ages past has promises to never leave us comfortless. God through the apostles promises to continue the good works of healing, restoration, and wholeness. God, in the person of Jesus, promises us everlasting life in the Kingdom which shall not pass away. God stoops down, taking on the frailty of our human flesh, to come among us promising love which surpasses all that our minds can fathom. This is what we need to hold onto. This Sunday, I hope you will come and worship. As we gather around the altar, as is true every time we approach the holy table, you are invited to bring all that holds you captive: your anxiety, fear, and anything else that prevents you from holding fast to the things of God. Bring these things to the altar and leave them there, trading them for the gift of the Sacrament - the most Sacred Body and Blood of our Savior. Come and receive the bread of life; come and be strengthened to love that which shall endure.

From the Rector The Rev'd Dante A. Tavolaro Dear People of St Thomas, This is not the letter I thought you would be reading this week. Before I left for my sabbatical and vacation, I wrote a piece about the importance of time of rest and restoration; encouraging us all to do that which feeds our souls, taking full advantage of all that our beloved Ocean State has to offer. But, as we know all too well, sometimes things do not go as planned. Sadly, that is true for my sabbatical. While June was quite profound, magical even, things went south quickly in July. As some of you are aware, last year I was diagnosed with degenerative disc disease. My understanding is that 90% of people have it by the time they are 60, and 30% by 35. Of those, a small number have significant symptoms - guess I won the genetic lottery. For me, the L4-L5 disc in my spine is collapsing and pushing against my sciatic nerve. That is why I was using a cane through the Spring of 2024. Thankfully with the help of medical intervention (epidural corticosteroid injection) and physical therapy I was able to resume all normal activity. When I noticed symptoms on my left side, previously was only symptomatic on the right, I called my doctor, and we scheduled another injection. Things were in place, and I was able to carry on with minimal limitations. That was all true until June 30. That evening I moved the wrong way and was instantly in significant pain. By the next night I was in the worst pain of my life, barely able to move or walk. Thing were so bad I ended up in the emergency room (the first of two visits through the month). On July 10 I had the injection and hoped that would get me back on my feet. Three weeks later I had my follow up and was saddened by the fact that I had not made as much progress as I had hoped: only able to stand for a few minutes at a time, struggled to walk upright, and dealing with fairly constant pain of varying degree. My medical provider however was not surprised and told me that all of this was completely normal, especially given the place I was in prior to the injection. A moment of great emotional relief. The best next step is to have another injection, which is scheduled for August 21. My doctor has told me I am an excellent candidate for this, and we hope this will get me back on my feet. But there are no guarantees and sometimes people can need up to 3 injections in acute situations. Given where I am now, the uncertainty of how I will respond to the next injection, and in consultation with my doctor and the support of the Bishop, I have made the decision to end my sabbatical a few days early, cancel my vacation, and go on medical leave. I am sure you have many questions so let me try to anticipate a few. When will I return? Given that I am making slight progress each day (I actually left my house for the first time the other day and not just for a trip to the ER or doctor’s office!), and have responded well to the injections before, I am living in deep hope that I will return to the parish along the original sabbatical/vacation timeline. While I may not be gone any longer than originally anticipated, going on medical leave allows me flexibility so that I do not have to rush my recovery and risk further set back. What happens if I am gone longer than anticipated? The Bishop has offered his support to work with the Wardens to make sure that the parish has the clergy coverage it needs. But, hopefully it will not come to that. What does this mean financially for the parish? Short term disability is different for clergy as we do not pay TDI. Therefore, our medical leave does not go through the state, but rather through the Church Pension Fund. My understanding is that the parish will be reimbursed for 70% of my compensation during my leave. Jane, our bookkeeper and administrator, also works for the Finance office of the Diocese and can explain this better than I can. Bottom line, this will not negatively affect the parish. I know that this might cause some fear and anxiety in our community, I am sorry for that. Please know I have every intention in returning to our community. I look forward to continuing the good work that God has called us to do. In the meantime, I give profound thanks to our parish leadership for their work in keeping things going, and to all our volunteers who work so diligently in the ministries of our community. We are blessed indeed. I ask your prayers for my continued recovery, especially for patience as being couch-bound is wearing rather thin. Please know that you all remain in my prayers as well. With my abiding gratitude.

Amanda Scott Senior Warden Dear People of St Thomas, Summer brings so many memories of the hope and promise of grand adventures, when you’re carefree and have no responsibilities. When I was in elementary school, my friends and I would wander about the neighborhood, feral, without boundaries, drinking from the hose, living off of freeze pops, and making sure we were home by 8:00. There was no real structure and days could be wiled away. When I was a teenager, I read Stephen King novels borrowed from the library, watched Baywatch, and made homemade caramel popcorn when a new miniseries was on ABC, CBS, or NBC in between my time working the drive-thru at the local McDonald’s. My brothers and I were raised by our mom and grandmother. Money was tight and dreams of fancy summer vacations were just that - dreams. We worked, we ate at the dinner table each night, and watched TV for entertainment. No grand adventures there and not too exciting to my teenage brain. As I got older, I decided to become a teacher. An English teacher, to be exact. I’m sure reading well-beyond-my-years books had something to do with that! With the decision to become a teacher came a tight budget. Like my mother, I, too, was a single mom raising my boy on a small salary. So, again, summer was a time of dreams of far away places while hanging out in the backyard with a sprinkler and some popsicles, watching TV or the stars in the sky. Fast forward to today and life still hasn’t seen me flying off to grand adventures or relaxing on a pink sand beach. My family comes first and there are college visits, taking aging parents to doctors for appointments, and visiting my mom in the Alzheimer’s Care Unit. Carefree still has not been a word in my vocabulary nor has money ever been free flowing. But you know what? That’s ok. Our lessons for this Sunday speak about the treasures in heaven. Colossians 3:2-3 states “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” That is definitely as hard a lesson in today’s society as it was in Jesus’ time. We are bombarded with commercials about the next best thing, the newest iPhone, the brightest gadget, the far-away trips. It is so hard not to think we deserve all the things. I’ve had some time for introspection these last few months since my mom went to the Alzheimer’s Care Unit. I’ve come to know my time with her as a blessing - one that she may not remember from day to day, but one that makes her happy and comforted and lets me show her love in the small things. There’s a beautiful line in the musical Les Miserables that I have found myself of late singing. “To love another person is to see the face of God.” God is all around us every day in the faces of our family and cherished loved ones. We do not need fancy clothes, trips to far off places, or nights out at the finest restaurants. We need love. We need the promise and hope that Christ Jesus has given to us. We need God in each other - in the summer nights of laughter, the popsicles and sticky faces, the stars above, and the memories of time spent together. These are not things that we buy and store up. They are everyday experiences and feelings that carry us through to the promise of what lies ahead and what awaits us in heaven. I ask you to look to the last month of summer, before the hustle and bustle of the world creeps back in and find God in each other. Because as Dante says in his sermons, we are all beloved of God. See God in the people around you and know that they see God in you. Not in what you have, but in who you are.

From Dawn Franceschini Treasurer Dear Friends of St. Thomas, Lately I have been thinking about the fragility of human nature and how we take our lives and health for granted until something happens to get our attention. Think cosmic sit-down, where you have no input or control over what is happening or has happened. You feel vulnerable in ways you haven’t before. What will I do? Who will help me? Does anyone care about me? Will I be a burden? Will I be able to return to my pre-event life? And many other thoughts that creep in uninvited and unexpected. Our faith in God sees us through all travails as we see in Psalm 91; 1-4 “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” Let us relax into the Lord, for He is our constant companion. Dawn Franceschini

From Jane Peach Administrator & Bookkeeper Dear Friends of St. Thomas, I want to start out by saying what a pleasure it is to work here at St. Thomas! When I volunteered to help Father Dante with the accounting side of office work, I did not know that I would meet such a great group of people and fellow Episcopalians. After helping with accounting for about a year, Father Dante mentioned that he would be looking for a part time administrator. I thought about it for about a second, and then asked if my name could be put on a possibility list. After Vestry discussion, I was offered the position. And I have loved working here ever since (September will be a year). Everyone here has been warm and welcoming. You have the best groups of volunteers that I have seen: Readers, Lay Eucharistic Ministers, Thrift Shop volunteers, Vendor Faire volunteers, Office Help, and Counters. I hope to meet more of you as I attend your services occasionally. If I don’t meet you in church, please feel free to stop by the parish office Wednesdays 9-3. Peace, Jane

Written by Vestry Member, Linda Dickey Dear Friends of St. Thomas, Our reading for this Sunday is Luke 10:25-37, the well-known story of the Good Samaritan. Imagine, if you will, that you have need to travel to a nearby city, but to get there, you have to travel a dangerous road – one beset by all manner of obstacles. Eighteen miles downhill on a winding, stony pathway, in the parching sun and dust, with little water along the way. Thieves are around every turn. To make it worse, you determine to do it alone, an unwise decision. Inevitably you come across some thieves, who attack and take everything you own, even the clothes on your back, leaving you for dead on the side of the road. In your weakened state, you see religious leaders and religious people pass you by. Finally, a member of a marginalized community, whom you have been taught to hate, approaches. You think you are done for, but he takes care of you, at his own expense, and brings you to safety. Most of us are familiar with this story in this Sunday’s gospel, but we have been taught to look at it from the other side. We have usually been the one doing the helping, not receiving it, in our version of this story. Jesus was answering the question of ‘who is my neighbor’ in a raw, real way, not in the abstract. He doesn’t say ‘those who live next to us’, or ‘those in our social class’, or ‘those whom I like’. When life has beaten us down, and we are in dire need of help, it is those whom we least expect, and those whom we may have looked down upon, who step up to help. So, in response to the question of ‘Who is my neighbor?’, Jesus states that our neighbor is anyone who needs our kindness, or gives us the same, no matter their proximity or status, no matter who they are. No matter if we feel they deserve it or not. This was brought home to me one day a few years ago in Mississippi, as my wife and I were driving in the city of Jackson. At a stoplight, an obviously high young man, who had clearly not washed in weeks, stumbled into the side of our car. My first reaction was to want to close the window and pray that the light would turn green quickly. My wife, however, got out of the car, led the man to safety on the side of the road, and made him sit in the shade. She left him with a bottle of water and all the cash in her wallet, not caring what he might do with it. This man was most likely one of the majority of Jackson residents who often gave us, as a lesbian couple, difficulty on a daily basis in that part of town, and looked down on us. Yet, like the Samaritan in the story, she displayed kindness and mercy towards him when he needed help, clearly showing who was her neighbor. Ashamed, I felt like the priest or Levite in the story. We have all been various characters in the story at one point or another in our lives, needing help from others, and giving help when we can. The Samaritan in Jesus’ parable is not just a kind individual; he is a model of what beloved community looks like—rooted in mercy, not merit; in kinship, not convenience. The Book of Common Prayer reminds us in the Baptismal Covenant that we are to “seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself”. Let us continue to do likewise this week, as so many in this community do so well, not out of desire for praise or approval, or out of guilt, but out of love for each other and all our neighbors. e. To edit this text, click on it and delete this default text and start typing your own or paste your own from a different source.