A Psalm and A Meditation for All Hallows Eve 2013

All Hallows Blessings to You All! 

Two things ....

The first is a traditional piece of music for the feast of All Saints...

The second is a little hard to explain.  It's a video by Glen Scrivener, Church of England minister, poet and lover of the King James Version of the Bible.  He has a wonderful web site called King's English.  What's below is Halloween: Trick or Treat.  This is a rhyming explanation of what Halloween is truly about .  I find it wonderful and watched it twice through...Very nicely done..Have a look and see what you think!


De profundis  (Out of the deep...)





Psalm 130 is a traditional offering for All Hallows Eve and here is a very beautiful version by the
 choir of Kings College Cambridge, under the direction of Sir David Willcocks.  This dark lament, a Penitential Psalm, is the De profundis used in liturgical prayers for the faithful departed in Western liturgical tradition. In deep sorrow the psalmist cries to God (1-2), asking for mercy (3-4). The psalmist's trust (5-6) becomes a model for the people (7-8).

Text:

130 De profundis

OUT of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord : Lord, hear my voice.
2. O let thine ears consider well : the voice of my complaint.
3. If thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss : O Lord, who may abide it?
4. For there is mercy with thee : therefore shalt thou be feared.
5. I look for the Lord; my soul doth wait for him : in his word is my trust.
6. My soul fleeth unto the Lord : before the morning watch, I say, before the morning watch.
7. O Israel, trust in the Lord, for with the Lord there is mercy : and with him is plenteous redemption.
8. And he shall redeem Israel : from all his sins.


The second --

Who Lives on Jesus Street?

Here is a great interview with Suzy McCall - founder of LAMB..Read and be inspired.  Suzy embodies freedom in Christ in a way that not many folks do...she truly does follow the Lamb wherever he goes...

Meet Suzy McCall, an American missionary in Honduras. The obedience of this one woman from South Carolina has radically changed the lives of thousands of people in Central America and the United States.

Suzy is the founder of The LAMB Institute, offering hope for new life – both spiritual and physical – in Flor del Campo, the slums of Tegucigalpa. LAMB serves up generous bowls of the Gospel of Christ, seasoned with unconditional love, to every soul passing through its doors. She lives out her ministry motto: follow the LAMB wherever he goes. Now, after only two decades of existence, LAMB operates a school, a children’s home, a safe house, a micro-loan program for cottage industries, and a teen outreach program for young boys on the streets.

The rest is here    (This link will take you to Pringle Franklin's Blog Living on Jesus Street)

Binding up Scattered Leaves

Dear St. James Santee Family and Friends,

“Media vita in morte sumus” – In the midst of life we are in death –is the title and first line of a Latin antiphon probably originating in France around 750 AD.   Luther made use of it as did our reformer, Thomas Cranmer, and it appears as an antiphon in the Book of Common Prayer.  It certainly expresses well the sense of sudden dislocation we feel when someone we love has died. 

In times of shock and grief, life and time itself seem to go on pause.  Quite often this happens in a sudden way.  In the silence, one becomes aware of the way the light is falling or of the sound of birds singing around us.  Time has slowed.

 Gradually, though, this gives way to the sense that life has gone on after all – babies are still being born, the buzz of classroom learning continues, factories still are producing and the mail is still being delivered.  At this point, we find ourselves drawn back to life itself and the necessity of choosing to live.

          The choice to re-embrace time and life can be made more easily when our hope for the future is glimpsed.    John Donne, English divine and writer (of “No man is an island” fame) contemplated mortality and hope at length.  Below is a passage I have found especially helpful in these past weeks of grieving the death of my father.  It is from his Mediation 27… (Emphasis mine)

 “….all mankind is of one author and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated. God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another.”

         I look with hope to the day when all of the scattered pages are gathered and for grace-filled eternity spent in that “library where every book shall lie open to one another.”  Until that blessed day, my prayer is that we will love one another very, very well in the time we are given.

Blessings,   Jennie+

Hugo - Twenty Four Years Later

       On this day, Sept. 21, in 1989  Hurricane Hugo paid a call to the Lowcountry. He was not a gentleman and left twenty-seven souls dead in South Carolina, nearly 100,000 homeless, and somewhere around $10 billion in damages.  I remember as if it were yesterday and as one of the most frightening experiences of my life.  The storm came on a Thursday and over the next few days we crawled out of homes to survey damages.  We adapted to no electricity or running water.  On Sunday, I gathered with members and friends of St. Paul's , Summerville where I was serving as an Assistant to the Rector.  No electricity in the Church building but plenty of power abounded.  We were thankful to have survived, in prayer for those who had suffered loss, and holding on to each other.   Every year I am struck by the Collect of the Day which followed on Sunday the 24th of September.  It reads

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.

This was not our home but the scene was similar.  Trees down everywhere - snapped off about twenty feet up. The landscape and homes trashed.  Two 90 pine trees came down into our house.  Not as bad as McClellanville and environs where the big surge tide came through but bad enough to never forget!

May we never need a Hugo to remind us to love things heavenly and to hold fast to those that shall endure. 

Something Light! Animals Mistaken for Spies

From the BBC....

Egyptian authorities detained a stork last week on suspicion of espionage, mistaking its migration tag for spying equipment. In fact the stork was innocent - like a number of other animals falsely accused over the years of undercover work, writes Mohamed Madi.

In 2011, Saudi authorities arrested a high-flying vulture on suspicion that it was flying missions for Israel's famously ingenious Mossad agency. And a spate of shark attacks near the Red Sea resort of Sharm el-Sheikh in 2010 was blamed by one TV station on GPS-controlled predators planted by Israel in order to harm the Egyptian tourism industry.

Iran has also felt threatened by animal agents. In 2007 the Iranian army arrested a team of 14 "spy squirrels" found near a nuclear enrichment plant. Officials said they succeeded in apprehending the suspects "before they were able to take any action".

Read the rest of the story .....  BBC

I am especially interested in the team of 14 "spy squirrels"  - I am sure I have some at my house!

The Blessing of the Backpacks
and Education Sunday
August 18, 2013 - 10:00 AM
followed by an Ice Cream Party

Everyone is invited  as we ask God to bless our students and teachers in the coming school year.

Please bring school supplies, paper goods (paper towels, tissue, toilet paper, napkins), drink boxes, and snacks.  These will go to Windwood Farm and the After School Program  of the South Santee Senior Citizens Center

Kingdom Rock Rocked!!!

  What did seventy Village kids and forty adults do the second week in July?  They visited Kingdom Rock where kids learn to STAND STRONG for God.  Many wonderful moments....check out our Facebook page for some more photos..  Thank you one and ALL! See you next year!

SJS Facebook Page

Village VBS 2013 Is Coming!

         
              Kingdom Rock is on the Way!!!!

                            Village VBS - July 8-12, 2013 -- Save the Dates!

For More information and to register ..Click Here...  Village VBS 2013

Pentecost Day 2013

Pentecost...

...is upon us. This coming Sunday, we will celebrate one of the great Feasts of the Church - the giving of the Holy Spirit.  Here is a contemporary rendition of one of the most well known hymns of Pentecost - Veni Creator Spiritus..(The English tranlation used below is found in our Hymnal - p.504)

 

 

 

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten with celestial fire. 

Thou the annointed Spirit art, who dost thy seven-fold gifts impart.

 

Thy blessed unction from above is comfort, life and fire of love,

Enable with perpetual light the dullness of our blinded silght.

 

Annoint and cheer our soiled face with the abundance of thy grace.

Keep far our foes, give peace at home:  where thou art guide, no ill can come.

 

Teach us to know the Father, Son and thee, of both, to be but One,

that through the ages all along, this may be our endless song:

 

Praise to thy eternal merit, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

 

Ascension Day 2013

Ascension Day seems to be fading from view - which is a significant theological loss. Always celebrated on the 40th day of Easter and always on a Thursday. Here is a little inspiration...

From a longer poem- Meditation 20-  by Edward Taylor- 1664-1729

 

God is Gone up with a triumphant shout:

The Lord with sounding Trumpets melodies:

Sing Praise, sing Praise, sing Praise, sing Praises out,

Unto our King sing praise seraphick-wise!

Lift up your Heads, ye lasting Doore, they sing,

And let the King of Glory Enter in.

Art thou ascended up on high, my Lord,

And must I be without thee here below?

Art thou the sweetest joy the Heavens afford?

Oh! that I with thee was! What shall I do?

Should I pluck Feathers from an Angells Wing,

They could not waft me up to thee my King.

 

Lend mee thy Wings, my Lord, I’st fly apace,

My Soules Arms stud with thy strong Quills, true Faith;

My Quills then Feather with thy Saving Grace,

My Wings will take the Winde thy Word displai’th.

Then I shall fly up to thy glorious Throne

With my strong Wings whose Feathers are thine own.

 

 Here, too, are two images...the first from Giotto and the second from Dali...what do you make of them? 

 

And lastly, a performance from the choir of Wells Cathedral of Hail the Day that Sees Him Rise with text by Amos Bull and music by Charles Wesley.

 

Good Shepherd Sunday 2013

      Almost any Sunday could properly be named Good Shepherd Sunday, and, yet, the Sunday set aside for that special focus is the Fourth Sunday of EASTER.   Marion Hatchett tells us that "in many of the ancient baptistries Jesus was depicted as the Good Shepherd."     One can imagine many reasons this could be the case but that which comes most readily to mind right now is Paul's discussion about Baptism in Romans, "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?  We were buried there with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life." (Rom. 6.3-4)..Easter, and Easter Eve in particular, have long been "the" times for Holy Baptism.

      Another place this imagery appears is in the catacombs and in other burial places.    See this image

This appears in the center of the ceiling of the "Velatio" cubicle in the Catacomb of Priscilla in Rome.: the Good Shepherd (also sheep and doves with olive branches in trees).  It dates from the second half of the 3rd century.

Here is a modern "shepherd" image that I love.  It's by Jeremy Lundmark.

Birth and death are both times when it can help us to remember that the Good Shepherd leads us not only on the mountain of life, but also through the valley of the shadow of death.  Below is a 2011 performance by the Wells Cathedral Choir, Somerset - under the direction of Matthew Owens-  of Howard Goodall's very beautiful setting of the Twenty-Third Psalm.  May you be blessed.

Brick Church Sunday is THIS Sunday - April 7th

Everyone is cordially invited to attend our annual Brick Church service -  11:00 AM  this Sunday.  Service is followed by a covered dish picnic.  We welcome the Rev. Richard I. H. Belser as our preacher this year.

Rick is a Columbia native who was baptized, confirmed and ordained at Trinity Cathedral. He was graduated from Washington and Lee Univ. (1964), served as a 1st Lt. US Army (1964-66); and trained for the ordained ministry at Virginia Theological Seminary (1969). Fr. Belser served as Vicar, St. Paul's, Fort Mill, SC (1969-73); Assistant, St. John's, Shandon, in Columbia, SC (1974); Rector, St. John's, Johns Island, SC (1974-85); and , Rector, St. Michael's, Charleston, SC (1986-2007). He is married to Anne Holcomb Belser. They have six children and fourteen grandchildren. Since retirement in 2007, Rick has served as interim at Episcopal, Lutheran, and Anglican churches; and taught pastoral care two semesters for the Alexandria School of Theology in Alexandria and Cairo, Egypt.

Christ is Risen!

   A Blessed Eastertide to You!

 

Easter Morning by Chinese Artist - He Qihttp://www.heqigallery.com/


May you and yours fully realize Christ's mighty Resurrection Power in your life!

Finally - A Life of St. James Santee

Vicar's Note:  Many friends have inquired about the inspiration for the name of St. James-Santee.  At long last, we can shed some light on our namesake - Ap. 1, 2013.
(Okay, we can now admit that this was an April Fool's Day post - ed. 4/5/13)

 Life of St. James Santee by Bruneau Chastaigner

 

Recent research on the first settlers of St. James Santee Parish has uncovered interesting information about the French Protestant refugees who sailed up the Santee River in January, 1687 and established a settlement on a 25 foot high limestone bluff about 25 miles from the mouth of the river.

Even more exciting for the Parish and the congregation is the identity of the person for whom the parish was named.  Congregants and historians have long pondered the identity of St. James Santee and we can now say with certainty and assurance who he was and give a brief biography of his life.

As is true for a number of the early French Protestant immigrants, it is often difficult to find documentation for their lives, beyond a few mentions in deeds and other documents.  However, recent excavations of an Indian settlement located in the wilds of Hell Hole Swamp have yielded tantalizing clues as to the life and death of an eighteenth century man who until this discovery had been hidden in the mists of time.  We will begin with what was known before the startling discovery in Hell-hole Swamp. [1]

Stories about descendants of the first European explorers to establish a foothold in Carolina have long abounded – stories centered around a cabin boy who was part of the garrison left at Charlesfort (located on what is now known as the Parris Island Marine Corps Facility near Beaufort, SC) when Jean Ribaut returned to France in 1562.  All that was known of this young lad, named Jacques and aged about 14 years when his compatriots set sail for France the following year in a makeshift boat, is that he had been sent to stay with Native Americans near Charlesfort, in an effort by the desperate French garrison to remain on friendly terms with the neighboring tribes who were being influenced by Spanish conquistadors, notably Hernando de Manrique de Rojas who commanded the Spanish force in Cuba.  With Jacques was another young French Protestant boy named Henri.[2]

The two young French Protestants, whose surnames have never been found, had been with the Native American tribe for about two weeks when he and several young tribesmen were sent inland to undergo cleansing rituals pursuant to their being accepted as full adult members of the tribe.  A few days after the young men had left the settlement, word arrived that that they should return to Charlesfort, but by that time even the most valued Native American scouts could not find their trail – a heavy rain had washed out all trace of it and what was left of the French garrison set sail without its youngest members. Later that year Hernando de Manrique de Rojas commanded the Spanish ships which were sent to destroy the remains of Charlesfort.  In this they succeeded and reports of the expedition include one passage which refers to their discovery and apprehension of a young French boy whom they found living near the fort.  He was taken by the Spaniards and his fate is unknown.  The Spanish records make no mention of his name or of another European boy.[3] 

 Until the recent discovery of a worn dispatch case in a shell midden on a small knoll in the depths of Hell-hole Swamp the above is all that was known of young Jacques, abandoned in the wilds of pre-Colonial Carolina before the land even bore that name.  The notes and memoir contained in the dispatch case have changed that and its discovery adds immensely to the early history of South Carolina.[4]  The existence of the shell midden was long-suspected, but was only discovered by hunters last fall.  Its excavation is on-going, under utmost secrecy to protect the delicate nature of the work, but the contents of the dispatch case have been shared with the Parish of St. James Santee due to the details and their intimate connection with the history of this place.

The aforesaid dispatch case contained, wrapped in well-greased bearskin, a small notebook written in French.  With it were found several letters which offer corroboration of the story which follows.  The quotes from the notebook and letters have been carefully transcribed and are as accurate as such items can be under the circumstance.  Future study may help with some of the more obscure passages, but in the interest of public disclosure it is imperative that this finding be made known now.[5]

The notebook found in the dispatch case includes entries made by several different hands beginning with a short entry dated “Fall, possibly October, 1563,” evidently written by someone in a state of great emotion, as its contents show the writer must have been.  The entry, translated from the French, is as follows.  “Henri was taken by Spanish soldiers last week – I watched, but could do nothing to save him – they burned the fort, what remained of it and left with Henri. I am alone here, except for my native companions, on whom I now depend for my life.” 

The next entry is dated “Summer 1567, possibly August,” and reads as follows,

 

I have kept track as best I could of the years, but the months and days escape me – I estimate them by examination of vegetation and stages of the moon, things I scarcely noticed until my stay here.  I write because I have heard news which should distress me, but which comes as a relief in some way.  Until now, I have not seen the need for writing – now I thank my Lord that I was taught my letters by my loving parents and continued my learning by keeping the ship’s log for our Captain and writing letters for the crew members. Several months past, spies from the Westoes were captured – I know because I was with the party which captured them.  I learned that a French fort built leagues south of this place some years past, the news kept from me until now for fear I would try to escape to them, was attacked by Spanish forces some two years past and the French garrison massacred. The Spanish then rebuilt the fort and another one, both of which were recently, not two moons past, attacked and destroyed by a French fleet, identified by me as the Westoe captives described the flags, colors and armor.  Having passed some four years with this tribe and being now held in regard and esteem by them, having married by their custom and now being father of two young children, I have cast my lot here and find myself strangely relieved to have escaped the need to decide between my former life and this one now afforded me – and at peace.  I have not abandoned the faith taught me by my dear parents, nor shall I abandon my heritage.  I have somewhat learned the language of my new people, but I speak French to my wife who has learned a little of it and I will continue to do so with my children. My Bible affords me great solace and is the only item I have left from my former life.  Until this incident, I did not see the need for writing, but I now understand that, if not in my time here, at some time in the future this story may bring solace to others.

My first son, named Henri for my lost former companion, was born a year previous in the fall of 1566.  He came to being in the settlement camp of the Cassiqe of Kiawah with whom we have friendly relations. 

Spring, 1568 - my second son, named Jacques, was born in our settlement some seven days journey north of Charlesfort from where we moved when the Spanish began building a fort there.  It is part of the land traversed by the Kiawah and Sewee in their movements during the year.

Autumn, 1570 – my daughter, named Isabella for my mother, was born.  Both she and my first-born son Henri died some months later, before the real cold began. They were accorded the rites according to the custom of my tribe, their bones now placed in jars beneath the soil of my new land.  I said prayers over them as best I could in my native language.

1581 – my wife died in the hottest part of the year.  She was a true Christian, although not baptized as such.  My son Jacques is now about the age I was when I left my family in Languedoc and sailed for this land.  He is ready to become a man according to the custom of our people.  I have taught him my native language as best I can and to write and read from the book of Holy Scriptures which I have had with me since I left France.  serves us well.

1591 – my grandson Jacques was born – he has the same red hair of my grandfather and my son Henri.

1594 – the birth of my granddaughter Isa.

 

            There are more entries in the same hand until the following entry, “Spring 1601, my father Jacques died this morning during our yearly gathering with the Kiawah.  My family is now settled north of here on the banks of Bowat, south of Avendebaw, home of my dear wife and birthplace of our son Jacques.  I have tried to continue the teachings of my father.  My daughter learns well, but Jacques is not as attentive.”

            This entry is followed by an entry which is thought to read as follows.  “My first son, named Henri for the lost son of my grandfather, was born during the great storm of 1635.  He lived two days and followed his mother.

My second son, named Jacques for my grandfather, my father and myself, was born during the coldest season in 1638.”  These entries were both written in a third hand, much less legible than the former two.

The third writer made several more entries and then recorded that his father, Jacques, son of Ribaut’s cabin boy, died during a hurricane in the year 1640, possibly during the month of September, while his tribe was camped at a settlement some 15 miles inland from the mouth of the Santee River, as best as can be determined from the sketchy notes and drawings in the notebook. 

From other entries, it appears that the third writer married at least twice, and possibly three times and that his children were born and lived on the Santee.  His entries continue until the final one in his hand which is as follows, “In the year 1670 during the time when the trees are greening and the wild turkeys raise their young, three large ships such as brought my grandfather to this land, as was told to me when I was young, entered the big Sewee waters.  I saw them with my son Jacques and my grandson Jacques.  They all spoke a different language than that taught me by my father and grandfather, but there was one who answered me when I addressed him with the words of my grandfather.   They left to live below us with the Kiawah tribe.  We remain with the Sewee, the tribe of my mothers.” 

            Following this and entered in the fourth hand found in the notebook is, “I, Jacques of the Sewee, record the death of my father, Jacques, during the time when the river ran high between the great cold and the great heat in the year 1671.”  The next entries appear to record various excursions made to “a settlement begun by the new people near our Kiawah allies.” The fourth writer includes descriptions of “waters full of the white ones large vessels” and alludes to problems between the “white ones” and his people. 

Several pages of the notebook are badly damaged at this point and will need to be conserved before there is any hope of deciphering them, if that is even possible.  The legible entries begin again with the following, “1681, at the time the bear disappear before the deep cold comes, my mother followed my father, my wife followed them and took with her my son and daughter.  I do not know who will be the guardian of this story when I follow my wife and children.  I am now some 46 years of age according to the way my father taught me.  I will try to maintain contact with the white ones who speak my father’s language who arrived in this land in a great warship two seasons past.”

Other damaged pages follow and then the entry, “The white ones have arrived on our land, sailing up the Santee in a small vessel, they were first only 7 or 8, but more followed – they have settled north of our main village and were fearful of us until I met with them and hailed them in their tongue which is the language of my fathers.  They marveled at my red hair and my knowledge of their language and customs, even more when I read my fathers’ entries to them.  They had heard of Ribaut and the Spanish forts and told me many things I did not know.  The have books like my Holy Scriptures and were astonished when I showed them mine.  They invited me to join them in their settlement, called Jamestown, they say it is the same as my name, but in another tongue and named for a great king who lives beyond the great salt waters from where come the storms and which bring the big ships.  Our king, whom they call Jeremie, was hesitant to trust them, but they have kept their word some ten years now and have not ventured past the waters of Wambaw or encroached on our settlement there. It is true that one of their elders, a man called Arnaud Bruneau, for they have two names and I am known to them as James Santee, requested permission to use the island located at the mouth of Santee for his own – we were willing since there are many other island we can use to make our salt and that is what he want to do – he said the land reminded him of his home across the great waters.  I have chosen his son as the guardian of my family story and he assures me he will guard it well.”

There are several other entries, alluding to problems between the Native Americans and the immigrants, but the writer was insistent that it was English settlers who were causing problems, not the French Protestant immigrants.  He mentioned his having rescued “my friend Paul’s nephew Henri, a name in my family also, from being bitten by a large alligator while the boy was playing in a pirogue which capsized near the mouth of the Santee when he was with his uncle and grandfather.  From other entries and from several of the letters, written in good French, but signed with an as yet unidentified anagram, it appears that Jacques Santee quickly became a good friend to the French Protestant settlers on the Santee River, helping them learn the land and how to hunt, as well as interceding for them when there were problems between them and the local tribes.

The entries end abruptly, but one very fragile letter written in French and dated Santee, 2 Apr 1699 provides at least a partial explanation of what became of Jacques Santee.  It, too, ends with the cryptic anagram which has yet to be deciphered.  It reads, in part, “My good friend and fellow Christian, Jacques Santee, has gone – his tribe is decimated and almost extinct – how I grieve for him and them.  He was a true Christian – amazing to find him here when we arrived on these foreign shores – welcomed by him in our native tongue, albeit a bit garbled and old-fashioned, and shown every courtesy by him and his fellow, I cannot call them savages as do the English, they were every bit as fine as we, better in some instances, especially the last.  Jacques Santee, a saintly man who knew the Holy Evangelists better than I myself; who quoted them in his daily life and had taught his fellow beings to honor them and fear the Lord, our Saviour – what an incredible man to find here in these wilds.  He taught me how to hunt the deer and wild turkey, how to fashion a call to bring them close, how to tickle fish from the sweet flowing rivers and creeks, to make and then use a small pirogue made from the trees which rise in the swamps.  He laughed and wept with me – an older, wiser man than I who had seen much hardship, who watched the young men of his tribe paddle down the Santee and into what they know as the Great Waters, seeking redress for wrongs done them by unscrupulous, greedy traders – and then his death at the hands of a Spanish war party which happened on him while he was helping some of our elders harvest salt flowers [fleur de sel] at the mouth of the Santee on Bruneau’s Island.  I did as he asked and buried his journal and the letters he held dear, adding this to it, on the hummock we happened upon one fall afternoon while hunting and musing on the mysteries of life.  I wrapped the whole in greased bearskin to ward off the damp and sealed them inside the dispatch case I brought with me from France.  His body was taken by the old women and children of his tribe to be ritually stored with the bones of his family, of which he was the last remaining member.  They gave me a lock of his hair – he wore it long – a huge mane of red which reminded me of my neighbor’s son in Languedoc, whose name escapes me at the moment. Jacques Santee – he taught us well and was a true saint – holding fast to the beliefs passed down to him by his father from his father and grandfather – a true Protestant and believer, untainted by the heresies around him – he not only led me home through the dark and treacherous swamps and poccosins we traversed, he conversed with me concerning my thoughts and beliefs and held me fast to the true Religion, though his was far stronger and more sure than my own.  I hope to honor his memory by persuading the elders to name our church after him – and if we are able to work with the English and retain our beliefs as members of the one, true Religion, to continue his memory in the name of this land – St. James, Santee – they need not know it honors one they would have called a savage, but whom I know to have been a Christian man, a saint as we are all called to be.[6]

---

[1] The following information concerning Charlesfort and the French, Spanish and Native Americans is taken from documents located in the archives on the Caribbean island of Mentira.  MeNTira -A3E789 – folio 2BS3.

[2] MeNTira –A3E789 – folio BS 3-4.

[3] MeNTira – A3E789 – folio BS 5-6.

[4] MENsonGEs et Maudits Pensees – BS.

[5] The dispatch case and its contents are still being studied by researchers and historians in the Hell-hole Swamp Museum and are not yet available to the public. The story which follows was written using the information contained in the contents of the case. 

[6] We are most grateful to the Hell-hole Swamp Museum for sharing this information with us.  Please note that the spelling in the notebook is quite difficult to decipher and in some cases almost illegible.  It is being examined by scholars and historians and subjected to DNA tests to prove its authenticity and anyone who believes this is a true April Fool or a Poisson d’Avril as Saint Jacques would have said.

Skidding slightly

         How did the vote go?  St. James-Santee voted to affiliate with The Episcopal Church in South Carolina (TEC), which is presently led by The Rt. Rev. Charles G. vonRosenberg.  To say that this has been a difficult time would be an understatement.   St. James has never been a particularly like-minded congregation when it comes to politics (Church or otherwise), so, there are members who feel very relieved about the decision and others who are pretty blue.  It is our prayer that the love we have for one another and the Lord Jesus will keep us bound together.  Right now things feel a little shaky - somewhat like a car which has lost some traction and is threatening to skid out of control.   God willing, we will be able to turn the wheel in the direction of the skid and regain our forward momentum.   We pray that the Holy Spirit will bind us together and refresh us in the coming season so that we might continue the work of the Gospel in this place. Finally, though, our confidence and hope for the future rests on God's promises.  One promise that has been especially sustaining these past few weeks is this - from Paul's letter to the Philippians - "He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil. 1.6).    May you and yours know God's mercy and love anew during this Holy Week.

 

Please Pray for Us

Portion of SJS Altar Window

Dear Friends of St. James-Santee Parish Episcopal Church,

 This coming Sunday, we will be voting on the question of affiliation.  Although we are a very small group, this is a large decision.  Please pray that we will be guided by the Holy Spirit and that we might earnestly seek the mind of Christ. Pray for a spirit of repentance for our participation in the breaking of the Body of Christ in our diocese.  We are grieved by the necessity of this decision.  Finally, we covet your prayers for our unity as a congregation.   

Blessings in Christ,

Jennie+
 

 

Lenten Humor

I. Ten Top Reasons Ash Wednesday is Waay Better Than Christmas....


10. No braving the malls looking for Lent gifts

9. No pressure to send "Merry Ash Wednesday" cards

8. No explaining why using chi-rho isn't "X-ing Jesus out" of Lent

7. No need to fight culture wars by putting "Jesus resisting temptation in the wilderness" displays on public property

6. No celebrity holiday albums

5. No Ash Wednesday sitcom specials

4. No saccharine email forwards about "the true meaning" of Ash Wednesday

3. No tacky Ash Wednesday sweaters

2. "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return" extremely difficult to use in consumer marketing strategies

1. Nobody ever says, "Ash Wednesday is really all about the children."

 

Source: Dave Barnhart

 II.  Contemporary Approaches to Ash Wednesday

(Adapted from Catholic Cartoon blog)

 III.  A Song of Lenten Anticipation
(sung to the tune of 'My Favorite Things')

Sackcloth and ashes and days without eating,
Mortification and wailing and weeping,
A hair shirt that scratches, a nettle that stings —
These are a few of my favorite things!
Penitence, flagellants, memento mori,
Spending nights sleeping on rocks in a quarry,
The sound of a cloaked solemn cantor who sings —
These are still more of my favorite things!
Tossing and turning and yearning, I’m spurning!
Passions aflame like an ember-day burning,
Corpus and carnis and wild drunken flings —
Forsaken are they for my favorite things!
When it’s Christmas,
When the tree’s lit,
When the cards are sent…
I simply remember my favorite things —
And then I can’t waaaaaaaaait ’til Lent!

Source:  Unknown.

Ash Wednesday is Almost Here

Every year it seems to creep up and catch me unaware!  By way of preparation, here is one of the most complete pieces of music for Ash Wednesday...it has meditative tones as well as sorrow and joy.  So very beautiful - it is a setting of Psalm 51 known as the Miserere by Gregorio Allegri.  Here is some information about it (including the text).  Here is a superb performance by the Choir of Claire College, Cambridge, Timothy Brown, Dir.

  May you be blessed in your listening and on Ash Wednesday.
                                                                
                                                                                Jennie

Such a Long Journey This Year

.....between the joy of Christmas, the increasing light of Epiphany and the struggle of the members of the Episcopal Diocese of South Carolina - now sadly, divided.  It would be tempting to start the naming, blaming, and projection that so often accompany the destruction of a relationship which usually sounds something like this:  If you had not done (fill in the blank), I would not have felt compelled to do what I did..and so on.

  I have heard the language of divorce used and wonder if we really understand its' profound pain.  Not many people capture this better than Pat Conroy whose 1988 essay, "Requiem for a Marriage," can be found Here.  Read it and think about what is unfolding now in our corner of the Church. 

Conroy writes "...Each  divorce is the death of a small civilization" and this is, I believe, what we are experiencing now.  In our case, it is 340 plus years of missionary work and a careful and costly building up of the Body of Christ in this place. 

What can we say?  I understand that as followers of the Risen Lord, we are never left without hope for new life ahead, and that is a settled conviction with me.  However, we cannot move forward properly until we understand the loss we have experienced, and this is where I and many brothers and sisters are at present - trying to come to terms with the loss we are just beginning to discover.  For some, it feels like an enormous relief to be done with those troublesome others, but, then, there are many things in this life that feel like a relief at the time  - the pain of which comes washing slowly back into one's consciousness over time.

At St. James Santee, I am so thankful for the way we are navigating this time: slowly and patiently; listening carefully to each; and, unwilling to suffer the loss of even one member. May our God bless us in our deliberations.  And, may God bless each of you .
Your sister in Christ,  Jennie+

Christmastide Blessings to You All!

  Are you keeping the Twelve Days of Christmas?  This can be a wonderful antidote to the enormous "crash" that comes right after the cultural celebration of Christmas.  For Christians, the twelve days are the bridge between two great feasts of the Church - the Nativity and the Revelation of the Christ (Theophany) at Epiphany.

Below is a link to the website of Holy Trinity German Catholic Church which has this nice set of pages on the customs of Christmas and Epiphany.  I especially thought the discussion of the Christmas Tree was interesting.  It, according to some sources, is not just a pagan practice but also represents the Paradise Tree found in the Garden of Eden and, I suppose, in the garden of the Heavenly Jerusalem.  Here are the comments...

The Christmas tree was traditionally put up only on Christmas Eve and taken down on Twelfth Night, the Vigil of the Epiphany. The reason for this is that contrary to popular belief, the Christmas tree was not a Christian "baptism" of pagan yule traditions, but an entirely Christian symbol. In the Eastern churches December 24 was the Feast of Adam and Eve, our first parents. Though this feast has never been  observed in the Latin calendar, church officials nevertheless allowed Roman Catholics to appropriate this Oriental custom. In the Middle Ages special mystery plays were held on this day which featured a Paradise Tree, a tree representing both the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil as well as the Tree of Life from the Garden of Eden. Thus the tree was decorated with apples (for the forbidden fruit) and sweets (for the Tree of Life). When the mystery plays were suppressed during the fifteenth century, the faithful moved the Paradise trees from the stage into their homes. The apples were later substituted for other round objects (such as shiny red balls), and lights and the Star of Bethlehem were added, but the symbolism remained essentially the same. Thus, our modern Christmas tree is actually the medieval Paradise tree, a reminder of the reason why God deemed it important to become man in the first place and a foretaste of the sweet Tree from which our Lord's birth would once again enable us to taste. The lights of the Christmas tree also form a glowing Jesse tree, with each light representing one of Christ's ancestors and the Star representing our Lord Himself.

Here is the link to the website   Holy Trinity German Catholic Church