Stewardship witness: Frank Borik

Hello Everyone,

My name is Frank Borik, and I and my wife Stella have been attending St. Paul’s for 20 years this past August. When Pat Krader asked me to speak as a stewardship witness, I knew I had to do it. Quite honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t get asked earlier, and I said to myself: “OK, I guess it’s my turn.” So here I am.

And, as I thought about it, there have been so many things that St. Paul’s has given me; from a place to enjoy my passion for musical performance, a spiritual home, comfort and support in time of need, a wonderful social life. But in order to run the church, you need the money. Yes, today it’s about the money. So, how does one try to quantify that which cannot be quantified? How do I talk about the many things I receive that money cannot buy?

Then, I thought, maybe I’m not approaching this correctly. Is there a way I can estimate the value of my pledge in terms of money? What if I took the 75 ministries that St. Paul supports and compare that with an equivalent service in the economy? What if I used my professional skills in cost estimation for the Government and come up with a number that quantifies that which IS quantifiable. And I’ll see if what I’ve been pledging all of these years makes sense from the viewpoint of a smart investor.

Let’s start with the Sunday services. Here we are, and every week we get to enjoy a professionally produced musical drama in this splendid theater, and each week we leave feeling moved. How much is a 90 minute show of this caliber and subject matter worth? $50.00 per ticket? Probably underpriced considering, but take that and multiply it by the over 24,000 attendees we had last year – That’s over $973,000. Add the weekly services and now it’s over $1.1 million! Funny how that matches our stewardship goal. So, we get our dollar’s worth just by coming every Sunday. But wait, what about all of the other 70+ ministries that St. Paul supports? Let me give you a brief summary of what I came up with:

• Stephen Ministry and 12 step programs: $420,000 in equivalent psychological services
• Showers of blessings: $28,000 for a truck stop shower and a haircut
• Arts committee: $23,000 for art exhibits
• Cathedral Forum: $40,000 in continuing education credits

I could go on, but my time is getting short. The bottom line is that the ministries of St. Paul’s provide over $2.2 million in equivalent value to people throughout this city, and even beyond. I don’t know about you, but getting a 2-for-1 return on my investment is a pretty good deal! Truly, our monetary contribution is the parable of the fishes and loaves made manifest.

So, what are you waiting for? A pledge to the cathedral is an investment that pays off in miraculous ways, just like those loaves and fishes, changing the lives of countless people throughout San Diego. Fill out your pledge card and come and join me at the altar. It’s the best investment decision you’ll ever make.

Stewardship: Justin & Roland

Good morning, I am Roland Tactay. When Pat approached my husband, Justin Lewis, and me about sharing a lay witness about stewardship, we were a little taken aback, honestly. There were no wings of the cathedral emblazoned with our names; no stained glass windows donated by our great grandparents; and nothing that seemed extraordinary about our stewardship commitment at all. But then… we we sat down and thought about it. That was exactly the point. Stewardship is not about names in marble or stained glass windows, it’s about supporting an institution that supports you—emotionally, culturally, socially and, of course, spiritually. So that’s the framework through which we view our stewardship.

Emotionally: St. Paul’s is more than a place to be “hatched, matched and dispatched.” It is our church home for all of the ups and downs in between those milestones. Our lives are constantly in motion, and the Cathedral provides a grounded foundation, a lighthouse in the storm, and a constant against which all of the troubles of the world can be seen in context.

Culturally: The pages of Cathedral Life are filled with opportunities for outreach, activism, personal growth and experiencing the diverse culture that makes up our Cathedral community. We live in North County—so have a slightly longer ride home than most—and it’s still not long enough to read about everything that is going on at the Cathedral every week!

Socially: No matter who we are outside of the Cathedral the rest of the week, when we walk through these doors and take our seats here on Sunday morning, all of that melts away. Every age—from strollers to walkers. Every color of the rainbow. Every configuration of family. And every tax bracket. We’re all here for the same reason: parishioners sharing the Gospel.

And Spiritually: Every Sunday—without fail—we leave the Cathedral spiritually renewed. Fantastic preaching that speaks to us, and inspires us. Amazing sacred music that is uplifting and grounded in a diverse Anglican tradition showcasing the breadth and talent of our own choir as well as special guests. And a sense of community that is welcoming and embraces “you who have much faith, and you who have little; you who have been here often and you who have not been for a long time or ever before; you who have tried to follow and you who have failed…” One Sunday, when we first started attending the Cathedral, I came in while Justin parked. When he paused at the door the usher kindly asked “can I help you find a seat?” He said, “no, I’m just looking for my husband.” To which she replied, “This is a great place to find one!” That’s when we knew we’d found our church home!

Those are just a few of the reasons that stewardship is important to us, but we’d invite you to think about how St. Paul’s brings you joy, because stewardship is deeply personal. Stewardship is a commitment to the Cathedral that should mirror the commitment that you feel the Cathedral has made to you. How is your life better as a member of this awesome place? And how would you like to support it?

Thank you.

Stewardship: Joanna Airhart

Good morning, my name is Joanna Airhart. I sit up there with the sopranos. This church is in my DNA. St. Paul’s was downtown in 1899. My paternal grandparents were courting, so my grandfather would walk my grandmother home after her choir practice. When I was 6 years old my mother brought me to St. Paul’s. I am sure my mother wanted her children to grow up in the church. St. Paul’s has been my foundation in life since I was 6. Joined the Girl’s Choir at 8.

You see Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John here on the pulpit. They are glued down now. When I was a kid I could hold them like babies. St. Paul’s had become my home.

My mother and her mother wanted a girl in long formal gowns with the long gloves too. Early 60’s society diet doctors were handing out amphetamines. My mother meant well, but had no education about what a family history of addiction can do to a teenager. I didn’t know that what was wrong with my moods was depression. The “diet pills” were finally what my serotonin had ben waiting for. I felt normal.

My 22 years of addiction began with that legal speed. All through college I bought illegal speed and then began smoking pot. I wasn’t able to compete my degree. When I turned 21 I stayed in my bedroom for 3 months with speed in the day, sleeping pills at night, and vodka. I got my first preschool teaching job and made some friends that all did drugs. Around this time in my life, church and choir were getting in my way of my weekends on acid in the desert. I quit choir and I quit church.

You know the beach poem, Footsteps in the Sand? That was me. You couldn’t see my footsteps because God was carrying me. The next 10 years were drug centered. Crystal meth became my love. I got married here at St. Paul’s but left him after 4 years because he wouldn’t let his hair grow long. I was a drug addicted hippie. No plans, no motivation. Then I met the not- perfect person for me, someone who grew marijuana for a living. Therefore, I became a drug dealer. That is until people would call me on the school phone wanting to buy pot.

Did I mention I wasn’t going to church? The not so perfect person asked me to move to Oregon. I thought that if I didn’t get out of San Diego soon I was going to end up in jail. So I moved to a hippie conclave in the mountains of Oregon. Guess what? God accompanied me to Oregon. Life happened and I became pregnant and was going to be a single mother. I too, like my mother, wanted my child to have a foundation in the church. I started going to Good Samaritan in Corvallis, Oregon. Then, 36 years ago on Thursday, there was no heart beat. Mary Elizabeth was is her name.

I started volunteering with teenagers at the Corvallis church. The following summer I promised the youth leader that I wouldn’t do any drugs at the coastal summer camp. Well, I kept my promise. God came to me at that church camp. I had a revelation that I had been on some form of drug daily for 22 years. I knew I wasn’t going back but I had no idea what I was going to do. From the camp the chaplain sent me to a treatment center in Portland. My Oregon church friends were there for me. I got clean and sober 9 months after Mary died. 3 years after her death, I woke up with a start and said “she brought me back to God.” When I could afford a grave marker, I had “God’s Gift” engraved under the picture of a baby angel holding a cross.

I was sober so I was able to complete college. I became a drug counselor in Florence, Oregon. Then a few years later I heard the loud voice of God saying, “Joanna, what are you doing here? Go home.”

I came home and took care of my ailing mother. I can now visit her in the columbarium.

When I came back to San Diego I didn’t know anyone who was free from drugs and alcohol. I came back to St. Paul’s, and I slowly began to join a small group here and there. Of course, I came back to the choir. I slowly began to make a friend.

When my mother died, 8 years after I came home, the whole choir turned up for the 11 AM funeral on a work day.

I am telling the story about addiction and recovery because it is MY story. God never left me. I could have died countless times but I didn’t. It is because God never left me even when I didn’t remember that fact.

St. Paul’s Cathedral is my home. From my front row seat in the choir I get to see the Lord’s Prayer window. I get to be close to the altar. What an honor!

St. Paul’s was there for my grandparents over 120 years ago. St. Paul’s was there for me when I was 6 and then built my solid foundation for life. This solid God filled place will be here for the next generations upon generations.

Stewardship Witness: Pat Kreder

First I want you all to know that is has been a pleasure and a privilege serving as your Stewardship Chair. Three years ago when Penny asked me to take this position I had no idea what all was involved. I thought it was mostly planning the events for the annual campaign. But since then I’ve learned that stewardship is so much larger. Yes, the annual pledge campaign is extremely important to the Cathedral’s ability to continue to thrive. However, stewardship of all that God has given to us is a year round responsibility. Webster’s defines it as “the careful and responsible management of all that has been entrusted to one’s care.” That means how we manage our family, our friends, our environment, our community, our health, and yes our finances.

I found a beautiful description of stewardship in the Episcopal Church Foundation newsletter. “ Stewardship is described in many ways but at it’s core is our response to God’s unfathomable love for all of us. It means discerning how we use our multiple gifts to make the most positive impact in a broken world. It is everything we do after we say “I believe.”

Most of you have heard my personal story about how I began to pledge and the year that I decided to just give back to God in response to all He had given me, instead of looking at my budget first and deciding how much I could afford. I’ve been doing that every year since then and the abundance in my life just overwhelms me everyday.

In the past years I’ve used the Step Up Chart which is found in your pledge brochure. Hopefully you all received one in the mail and if not please let me know. After looking at the chart I decided where I wanted my gift to be in relation to my St. Paul’s family, and continue to strive to be there.

This coming year, in the midst of construction, remodeling and careful budgeting we’ve set our pledge foal at $1,050,000. That’s just $50,000 more than last year and I feel certain with your help we will achieve it.

We are just instruments in this beautiful stewardship symphony and how blessed we are to know that God is our conductor. Together what beautiful music we can make!

Sunday, October 6,2019
Pat Kreder

The Sunday Sermon: The Desires of our Hearts

Now and then our lectionary provides a reading that lines up perfectly with what’s going on in the world or the church. We don’t pick the Scripture we hear on a Sunday: it is prescribed in a three-year cycle, and if we want to do something different we have to ask permission from the bishop. So it’s pure ... grace that the Gospel reading today, on the first day of our annual pledge campaign, has Jesus telling us that it’s easier for a camel to be threaded through a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Sorry. But it is what it is. So let’s look at that Gospel story.

Here comes a wealthy man, someone with many choices in his life, someone used to getting what he wants and works for, someone who undoubtedly feels that his wealth is a sign of God’s favor. The disciples certainly feel that way: the Prosperity Gospel is not a recent invention. Apparently, nearly a third of Americans believe that if you give your money to God, God will bless you with more money. I wish I could preach that message with a straight face. But the fact is that the only person who gets blessed like that in churches with that message is the pastor: one prominent preacher of the prosperity Gospel is apparently worth some $50 million.

It’s a false Gospel. This false gospel teaches that if you want something enough you can manipulate God into giving it to you by imagining it being a reality. So, if you want that big house down the street, all you have to do is picture yourself in that house - and give a lot of money to the preacher who told you to do it. You can achieve the desire of your heart, whatever it is, by thinking and praying yourself into it. It’s simply not true.The life of faith has nothing to do with getting rich. So, if you come to church because you think it will make you rich, I am here to disappoint you. You can certainly find that teaching in some parts of the Bible, but not in the words of Jesus. In fact, he says elsewhere that the poor are blessed in their poverty.

When Jesus tells this rich man that his wealth actually stands in the way of his embrace of the kingdom of God, everyone is shocked. Jesus is asking him to do the impossible: to let go of the one thing that gives him status and security.

Jesus is pretty uncompromising here: he is looking to shake this person out of his complacency and entitlement. But, as the letter to the Hebrews reminds us, Jesus is one of us. He knows how hard it is to separate our self-worth from our bank account. And so, even as he delivers the hard news, he loves this man for asking, for doing his best, within his own limitations, to do as God commands. For those of us who think of ourselves as wealthy, that’s good news. Jesus loves rich people too!

The man goes away, grieving. Now, we don’t know the end of the story. Maybe he does give everything to the poor; maybe he finds a way to put God first in his life, and maybe he comes back later, less encumbered, to follow Jesus on the Way of the Cross. We don’t know. But one thing we do know: he isn’t going to earn his way into heaven. And neither are we.

This open-ended story leaves us with a question. What do we need to let go of before we can follow Jesus? What is your heart’s desire, your highest priority; is it something that gets in the way of your journey of faith?

When I visited South Sudan six years ago I stayed with people who had nothing except what they could grow or make from the land around them. They were under constant threat of violence from marauding gangs and others determined to stamp out Christianity. But their worship on Sunday mornings was the most joyful I have ever witnessed. They knew that God was their refuge and strength: nothing else in their world was reliable. They were ready to follow Jesus all the way, there was nothing standing in the way; they were already living in the Kingdom of God.

My Sudanese friends gave thanks to God for every little thing: for a safe journey, however short. For food. For waking up in the morning. They lived in gratitude, and somehow they found reasons for gratitude several times a day, even though they had so little. The center of our life as Christians is an act of gratitude: the Eucharist, a word that means giving thanks. When Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me,” he was telling us to be thankful, to live grateful lives. So, another question for us today is, what are we grateful for? I am grateful for this cathedral: for the ways we care for each other, for the wonderful music, for this glorious space, for our hardworking staff, for the opportunities to come together as friends and serve our neighbors.

I am grateful for all the people who, over the last 149 years, have given so that this cathedral would still be here today.

I am grateful because I love this place and I love the people in this place.

A consequence of this love is that I am moved to give. I have some good role models for this: the consequence of God’s love for the world was the gift of Jesus, and Jesus loved us enough to give his life for us. I give because I love. And I see the same consequences in others here. I’m going to embarrass a couple of people by naming them, to make my point.

Konnie gives her time and energy to the altar guild because she loves to see this congregation offer beautiful worship.

Vicki gives her days to loving her brothers and sisters on the streets.

Chuck gives his devotion and skill to the plants that grow in our churchyard, out of love for God’s creation. Our floors are being refinished right now because someone loves our community enough to want our home to be in the best possible shape for the future.

Jack Lentz who died last August loved this community enough to leave a portion of his estate to the cathedral. So did Dorothy Green and Mary McBride and Rupert Keesler.

So, what about you? What do you love? What are the consequences of that love?

Think now of one thing you love about this community that prompts you to give - whether your gift is an hour of worship on Sunday morning or $1,000 a month or your expertise in Chapter and finance committee meetings. Now turn to your neighbor and share your reason for giving. A minute each.

I wonder how many of you talked about your financial giving. I know about the anxiety that surrounds money in our culture. Just consider for a moment if I had asked you to tell the person sitting behind or in front of you the amount of your annual income. I don’t think the conversation would be nearly as vibrant. It’s almost impossible for us to talk openly about money: that’s a measure of the power it holds over us. But our opening prayer today speaks of God’s grace preceding and following us. That grace can liberate us from all our anxieties, can make the impossible possible.

So, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, gathering at God’s table to make Eucharist, to give thanks, to experience God’s love, and to live out the consequences of that love.

October 14, 2018
The Very Rev Penelope Bridges

Ministry Impact: Showers

Uriah

It is early morning on the second Saturday of the month and still dark. Shadowy figures line up out side the 6th Ave gate, bags of belongings by their sides. On any other day, in any other place you might feel uncomfortable passing them in the dark, but the volunteers at Showers of Blessings are overjoyed to see them. We worked hard the day before staging our equipment, but now it all must be put into place.

Randy, Leon and Uriah are always first, and they know just what to do: 13 tables to be set up, racks of folding chairs brought out and placed, trash cans set and pop up tents and umbrellas raised. Randy takes charge of setting up the guild room for the breakfast that our Methodist partners serve at 8. By 7 we are all set up to start giving showers. Guests come through all morning getting their nametags, their number for showers, haircuts, clothes and hygiene supplies. They sit and chat with us and drink coffee and there is a feeling of comfort, safety and familiarity that all of us enjoy.

Candice

Many have become friends: Cheryl knits caps and socks, and also paints beautiful floral note cards that she sells. Candice brings bouquets of flowers for the tables, Manny cuts hair, and Aaron plays piano in the Guild room and the great Hall when he is here. A new guest last month played Rhapsody In Blue in the Guild Room so beautifully it took our breath away. Working in a ministry that serves the homeless you soon learn that we are all so much more than our current circumstances might seem to suggest. Showers has given our community, guests and volunteers a like, the great blessing of unfolding all our capacities for kindness, artistry, helpfulness generosity and joy.

Nesti

And last but not least is the amazing Chuck who came as a showers guest a couple of years ago and is now one of our Sextons, responsible for cleaning, fixing, setting up and breaking down much of what goes on here. Chuck is a great reader of books and loves to talk about them, and he is also an artist with paints and easel. He works at the Rose Garden on the other side of the park near the canyon where he also sleeps. Sometime ago he decided our gardens needed help. So with bags of mulch and new plants he set about redesigning our patio gardens, even extending them outside our gate for passersby to enjoy. Now he does all of our lawn and gardening maintenance.

Showers of Blessings began here 3 ½ years ago with a handful of dedicated volunteers. We served 10 guests. Today we are 20 core volunteers, and in the last 12 months we have served 1,190 guests.

I am overjoyed to be a part of this community that cares and works hard to make life just a little easier for those in need, and there is no place I would rather be on the second Saturday of the month than welcoming our friends at the gate.

--Claudia Dixon

An Update on Stewardship Formation

A few weeks ago, I wrote to you about the Stewardship Committee’s decision to offer a financial literacy course: Financial Peace University.  The selection of that curriculum raised many questions and concerns!  Please rest assured that it is the intent of the Stewardship Committee to provide unity in our journey together as stewards, not division.

Our goal for the course was to provide theologically based financial literacy education for those in the community that might benefit from it.  We realized that many in our community have strong financial management skills.  This offering was geared towards members of our community that have asked for help with financial skills.  It was not in any way associated with our November pledge campaign.

The Stewardship Committee had its own reservations about this course, and we had decided to offer it with a sense of experimentation:  will this work?  Will it be a fit?  There are a variety of approaches to managing household finances, and we knew that we would have to lean into the Anglican via media with any offering. With different financial situations and beliefs likely present in the group, any presenter would only be a launching board for discussion.  However, with so many questions and concerns lingering in the congregation, the results of this experiment seem clear, and this is not the right time for Financial Peace University at St. Paul’s.

In consultation with the Dean and Stewardship Chair Pat Kreder, we have cancelled Financial Peace University this fall.  I apologize to those who had already signed up for the course.  The Stewardship Committee will continue to look for a replacement financial literacy course that does not have the same challenges to the congregation that this one does and offer it in a future year.

For this fall, I hope you will join me, Dean Penny, and Pat Kreder for a different offering:  a course entitled “The Wisdom Path: Money, Spirit, and Life.”  This is not a financial literacy class, but an exploration of attitudes and experiences with money.  The series of 8 classes is broken into three sections: 1) Exploring our own relationship with money; 2) Exploring how money connects us with others (including classism and economic justice); and 3) ways to align faith, values, and our ways of financial being.  You can sign up for that class here https://www.stpaulcathedral.org/events/formation2018/. 

Again, thank you for your feedback as we continue to move from stewardship-as-fundraising to stewardship as discipleship; as doing all that you can, with all that you have, all of the time.  The Stewardship Committee and I value your continuing feedback as we deepen this journey together.

Blessings,

Jeff Martinhauk

The Sunday Sermon: Stewardship of the Kingdom

There is a story about a man who was a member of his parish, but who didn’t give anything to the church one year.

When the priest went to check on him, he opened the door and asked, “Did you know that my son just wrecked his car and needs a new one?”

The priest replied, “Why no, I didn’t know.”

“Or did you know that my daughter just lost her job and has no money.”

Again, the priest replied, “Oh my- no I had no idea.”

“And did you know that my wife is very sick and needs treatment?”

The priest, taken completely aback, said, “Oh my gosh, I’m just so sorry.”

The man said, “So if I didn’t give anything to any of them, what makes you think I’m going to give anything to you?” And closed the door, leaving the priest outside.

The man in this story clearly had a value attached to money that might not be the same as what we find in today’s gospel readings. We have today a series of parables about how God’s kingdom is different from what we expect, from what we are trained to value.

In the parable of the mustard seed, we have a tiny seed-- a weed, really, that takes over subversively. It isn’t anything the gardener wants to have planted in the yard: it just shows up; the tiny seed having been invisible among what he planted. When I lived in the desert, the mustard plants would take over the whole yard if I didn’t weed carefully each spring. They even came up through the landscape fabric designed to keep them out. They were insidious- they just appeared. Just like that, Jesus says the kingdom of God sneaks up from outside the expected places of the powers and provinces the way the empire works and then takes over with a different way, like a weed.

And next we have the parable of the yeast. Yeast silently works its way through the flour to leaven the whole batch. And the three measures of flour, incidentally, is quite a lot: enough to make about eleven loaves of bread. When is the last time you needed eleven loaves of bread at once? It’s abundant. It’s almost too much. This woman has taken the yeast and hidden it in about two gallons of flour. So this yeast has silently worked its way through a lot of flour, quietly but effectively working its way through a huge quantity. Just like the story of the mustard seed: the kingdom of God starts with something small and unseen, but before you know it, it spreads to something bigger than we can imagine needing. This is a generous God, working behind the scenes to change things in unexpected ways.

So it is no wonder that the next two parables then talk about what that kingdom is worth. In the parable of the hidden treasure and the merchant in search of fine pearls, the abundant price for the field and the price the merchant is willing to pay are only matched by the abundant yield of the kingdom. But that kingdom- worth so much these folks would give everything they own for it- isn’t a kingdom of vast resources of gold, or silver, or even oil or steel. This is a kingdom of mustard seeds and leavened bread from the prior two stories. But somehow that is worth everything these two people have once they learn about them.

So that’s what the kingdom is. This kingdom of God is subversive, it is worth giving everything away for, and it looks like… some bushes and bread. In the words of one commentator, Jesus’ point is to ask something like, “Would you give away everything you have for a crop of kudzu?”

Because God’s kingdom doesn’t look like the way we expect kingdoms to look. The kingdom of God isn’t a kingdom of silver and gold. It isn’t cosmetic beauty even, or riches, or power. It’s something much more valuable.

What does that kingdom look like then? What does that mustard seed produce in our time? What is like the yeast for us, that goes to work silently transforming the world, maybe even getting out of control, even looking a little dangerous, but is actually the kingdom of God at work transforming the world around us? Is there anything you can think of that might call you to give up all you have-- especially for something as seemingly meaningless to the world as a mustard seed or eleven loaves of bread?

This is why we have to talk about money when it isn’t stewardship season. Because Stewardship isn’t fundraising for the church, although that’s what we’ve reduced it to. Stewardship is something much bigger than that.

Stewardship, for me has two components in the spiritual life. There is the corporate aspect of Stewardship: that is, how will we, in our common life, use all that we have to do all we can for the mission of God-- to spread all the mustard seeds we can, with all the yeast we can find, hiding it into all the flour available. But while fundraising in a non-profit may include conversations with donors about whether they are getting what they want and need, corporate stewardship in the church is not about that. Corporate stewardship is discernment among the whole body, where we work together knowing that everyone will not always get what they want, but that the members of the body work together for the common good of the mission of the church, not for the good of any one individual member, but for the furthering of the spread of these silly mustard seeds and that pesky yeast. It is about whether we are following God’s mission for us rather than donor’s desires, and that takes the body to discern with the leadership.

But there is another component to stewardship that is the root of Christian discipleship.

Personal stewardship is how each of us use the resources of the kingdom of this world in order to work for the kingdom of God. It’s how as individual followers of the Christ we are called to do all we can with all we have all of the time.

And, I’m sorry to tell the man from the beginning of the story, that includes money. Oh, we don’t like to talk about our money! But it also includes our children and our parents and our energy and our environment and what we purchase and everything else, too. Stewardship is doing all we can with all we have all of the time. It is selling everything we own to buy the field with that remarkable treasure in it; it is giving away everything because we have discovered the value of the pearl of a great price.

That is a really hard thing to talk about. Because just like the yeast, the kingdom is subversive. It isn’t something we can just write up some talking points and say, “this is why you should be a good steward.” Stewardship is doing all you can with all you have all the time, because you have found a hidden treasure, and you just know it’s value is unmeasurable.

Stewardship is making a decision about how you see the world and living into that, even when the world seems to value other things.

Stewardship is believing that the resource of kindness should be doled out amply. And deciding to give it out even when it seems like it is in short supply.

Stewardship is believing that reconciliation is a more abundant resource than getting even, and being willing to make withdrawals of forgiveness even when it seems in short supply or that being right is the only currency available.

Stewardship is seeing your child step out and make a decision that may not be what you would choose, but believing that her own agency and independence are her gift to be cherished and cultivated in abundance, so it is the currency that you convert to, because she doesn't belong to you, she is simply yours to steward for a season.

Stewardship is treating all people, immigrants, transgender people, even political enemies with respect. Because human dignity is the only currency for human interaction that have in your bank, and fear and tribalism are bankrupt.

Stewardship is choosing to be friendly to the earth, because it is the resource that you value as a generous gift from God to be revered.

Stewardship is not so much banking on the memories of the past or investing time in countless possibilities of future, but living fully in this present moment, knowing it is much more precious than past or future.

Stewardship is knowing that God is generous. Gratitude is the practice of naming those things of value that are otherwise discarded by the world so that you can treasure them, and value them, and see their worth in the world around you, and let go of the things that others may value more.

And that may mean that Stewardship might include determining how to live off of 90% of your income, so that you can live generously giving 5% or 7% or the Christian standard of 10% back to God in gratitude for cultivating this subversive kingdom that I hope you strive to be a part of. And it may mean that you do something different, too.

Whatever pearls of great price you have found, I hope that you use gratitude every day to remember their value, to cultivate generosity, and to remember the God that offers you a kingdom of abundance.

The Rev. Canon Jeff Martinhauk
Proper 12A, July 30, 2017
St. Paul’s Cathedral, San Diego
Matt 13:31-33; 44-52

The Sunday Sermon: Courageous Journeys

The gospel lesson this morning presents a community in an in-between space. As lepers, these ten travelers were ritually impure. We don’t really know what leprosy meant-- it was likely a combination of what we consider to be many skin afflictions today-- but until the afflictions were healed the persons afflicted were prohibited from certain ritual or community activities according to ancient purity laws. They were in-between.

It is important to note that this lesson is a great example for us of how Jesus was a practicing Jew, and as such observed the purity laws. Jesus sent the lepers to the priests to become ritually cleansed, which was just the thing to do in Jewish custom at the time.

But what we don’t know much about is the lepers’ state of mind as they started their journey towards the priests for ritual cleansing. We don’t know how long they had been impure, or to what extent their daily life had been affected by their ritual impurity. Whatever the impact had been, it is clear that going to the priest as Jesus asked was the step that would remove the restriction and allow full participation in community life again.

I can only imagine what that must have felt like. “I have this skin malady, but Jesus has just said that the priests will restore me to full participation?” Whoopeee! And as they went I imagine their excitement about their restoration of ritual purity grew as they walked. Then-- they found that their physical bodies were healed. That, it seems to me, would be truly amazing. I think I might have double-timed it down to the priest to make sure my leprosy didn’t come back before I could get my “ritual purity card” back. What if I get sick again? I better hurry-- I don’t want to miss this opportunity!

But one of the ten lepers, an outsider, a Samaritan, realized something. He realized that he must stop and turn back to the one who had brought this about, and give thanks. He realized that healing had happened there on that road in that in-between space. So he stopped and gave thanks to Jesus for it. And Jesus uses a different language to describe what happens to him as a result of his gratitude-- he is “made well” for it.

God is generous in this text to all ten lepers. All of the lepers receive a generous gift-- they are healed and made clean. But only one is “made well.” The Samaritan was made well only when he stopped, turned, and gave thanks for what the others took for granted from this generous God. Giving thanks makes us well at some much deeper level.

Today is the beginning of the Courageous Journeys campaign. We will, over the next six weeks, begin to give thanks together for the ways God has been generous with us at St. Paul’s Cathedral. This year we are stopping, pausing, and looking back-- we are giving thanks back to God for the many ways and many times God has been generous with us, and also reflecting on how the people of St. Paul’s have been courageous enough to recognize God’s generosity in the midst of the journey.

There is so much to be thankful for at St. Paul’s! I have been amazed, for instance, to learn that the first pipe organ in San Diego was procured by this congregation in 1887. Our first land was donated by Alonzo Horton-- the same Horton of Horton Plaza-- who allowed the mission to become a parish with his generous donation of property; and we bought our first sound movie projector in 1948. Now we have one of the largest organs in San Diego used throughout the week to play beautiful music to glorify God in the midst of a thriving music ministry. We steward this amazing space filled with shifting light and stained glass designed by Frohman, Robb, and Little, who also designed the National Cathedral. And soon we will be able to live stream sermons as they happen thanks to the generosity of a donor, which will allow us to evangelize in whole new ways.

But this congregation’s courageous response to God’s generosity has always included the mission of God in pastoral and relational ways, too. In 1899, we offered ourselves as a place for a funeral when a policemen died, and over 2000 attended. In both World Wars, we took a position of peace while supporting our men and women in uniform, as our clergy took up regular eucharistic services in the chapel at the Naval Hospital. Realizing an emerging need for senior housing, the idea for what would become St. Paul’s Senior Services was approved by our vestry in 1953, which continues its role in housing seniors in need to this day. Our deans have supported the baptismal call to respect the dignity of every person as the movement towards Women’s Ordination moved forward in the 1970s and as the Church began to recognize the full sacramental worth of LGBT persons. We hosted the Integrity convention for LGBT inclusion in the church in 2003, and have brought thought-leaders in the Church to the city for conversation and dialogue over the years. Dorcas House, now Vida Joven, has been a vital partnership for the cathedral as we have partnered to meet the needs of children along the border of Mexico.

And now we continue in that trend as we deepen our role as Cathedral for the City-- this year alone we held three memorials for a city reeling from tragedy in Orlando, including one in a gay bar. Our Showers of Blessings ministry to bring showers to homeless neighbors celebrated its first anniversary in April. The youth of the congregation began a garden and started cultivating bees, and Simpler Living started a community supported agriculture initiative to keep our environment sustainable. We continue in partnerships with Episcopal, ecumenical, and interfaith organizations throughout the city to help those who are in need, marginalized, and forgotten-- and this congregation won’t stop until we have celebrated the abundance of God so resolutely that all have homes, all have the care they need, and all are loved with the respect and dignity that they are endowed with at their creation by the loving, generous God we believe in.

Yes, we have a generous God. We have a long tradition of responding courageously in gratitude to the generosity that God has poured out on us at St. Paul’s cathedral. But we aren't finished. God isn't done with us yet! The plans for the new building are moving along, which will give us much needed space in a few years. So next year that means we have to start preparing for construction, but that doesn’t mean we will cut back. We have big plans at the Cathedral!

The Vision for Mission plan is in full swing. Next year we plan to hire a part-time youth minister. To keep all of our members nourished and continue to nourish our newest and spiritually hungry young people, we need to make sure our youth have somebody who can support them.

We will also re-tune our Saturday night service. Our Sunday services are beautifully traditional. To meet a changing world, we will start working with our millennials to see what their worship needs are and how we might best begin preparing the church for a generation whose worship needs may be very different from our current services-- without impacting our current wonderfully high Anglican liturgy.

And finally, as a Cathedral for the City, we have a distinctively outward focus. We have a dedicated core of long-time members who pour themselves into our mission, but we have to continually invest in deepening our inward relationships and constantly welcome in the stranger. We will invest next year in a small group ministry to ensure that our relationships with each other remain strong and nourishing so that we remain fed to do the work in the world we are called to do.

As we go through these weeks, pray and give thanks, I invite you to reflect on your own journey. Give thanks and reflect not only on how God has been generous in your life individually, but I ask you to reflect on our common life as well. We will have information on budgets and spending and all the reasons that secular non-profits use when they ask you to give. But the Church is not a secular non-profit. The Church is Christ’s, and you are a member of that body by nature of your baptism.

This is your community. As you pray on how much to pledge, don’t give because you should. Don’t give because of duty or guilt, even.

As we move forward, I ask you to reflect on who God calls us to be. How shall we live as a people of God? How shall we reflect the love of God and the call of Christ? How shall we carry forward the tradition of the generations before us? And then make a pledge that reflects that vision courageously so that we might turn towards the One we serve, give thanks, be made well, and continue on the journey that has already been so richly blessed and wonderfully empowered by the One who we serve.

The Rev. Jeff Martinhauk

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Sources Consulted:

Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol. 4. Ed. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. Louisville, Kentucky: John Knox Press, 2010.  

Stewardship: The Gift of Grace

Good morning. I’m honored to have been asked to speak about how St. Paul’s has aided my spiritual journey and why I choose to be generous to St. Paul’s.

In thinking about what to say, I realized that the first part of this assignment is much easier than the second. I can – and will – enumerate the role of St. Paul’s in my spiritual life, but it is clear to me that I shouldn’t be held up as a paragon of generosity. How can I talk about being generous when I don’t think that I’m generous all the time or perhaps even most of the time?

Slogans can encapsulate a whole range of ideas and feelings, and St. Paul’s has one that does that for me. It’s on the front page of the website and often repeated during worship: “Whoever you are, wherever you find yourself on the journey of life, we welcome you.”

This sense of welcome whoever I am is incredibly important. I had a difficult time admitting to myself and then to others that I am gay. At one point in my life, I was moving to a new city, and I vowed to live my life there as openly gay. In doing so, I decided to leave the denomination where I was raised and take a break from church. The break didn’t last more than a few weeks: a gay couple I met told me about their church, an Episcopal church whose rector was openly gay. I gave it a try, and struggled a bit with juggling the order of worship, the Prayer Book, and the Rite 1 “thees” and “thous.” But mostly I sat and cried in my pew for a few weeks. I knew that I had found a new church home.

When I moved to San Diego, I feared that things might go back to square one. Someone from my former parish recommended St. Paul’s. It wasn’t quite the same as the church I had come to love (we only used Rite 1 occasionally, for example), but I stayed.

What I discovered here was a welcome that modeled God’s grace. Grace, I have learned, is something freely given. It does not have to be earned; I do not have to be worthy of it (“whoever I am” – and that, in itself, was a big spiritual lesson). When I am not particularly in need of it, I tend to take it for granted, and the St. Paul’s community takes me and my needs for granted as well. But, when I am ready for God’s grace to be in my life for a specific purpose, the community has always come through. Most recently, you came through for me as I had three surgeries, radiation, and chemo for colorectal cancer. St. Paul’s people laid hands on me, made sure I was cared for, brought me Eucharist and even Christmas cheer in the hospital, and offered lots of prayers. Believe me, I felt grace shower on me, and that feeling helped me to sustain a positive attitude throughout the process. I am cancer-free today in good measure thanks to the St. Paul’s community.

Another lesson that I’ve learned is to be grateful for what I have been given. I have been given the gift of God’s grace, as modeled by this community. I need not only to feel grateful but to show I am grateful. I show my gratitude in two primary ways: I pledge and fulfill my pledge even when it’s tough to do so, and I volunteer my time, even when it’s tough to do so. I sometimes want to beat myself up about not giving more, both time and money, but invariably when I express that frustration someone will gracefully remind me that having limits is fine. I have found myself in a variety of places on the journey of life, and you have welcomed me in all of those places. I don’t have to give the most, but I do have to give with gratitude.

Let me close by asking you to consider how St. Paul’s has welcomed you – whoever you are and wherever you find yourself on the journey of life. Then, meditate on your gratitude for what this community does for you and decide how you wish to express that gratitude. As you do so, may God’s grace shower you with blessings.

Bill Eadie

Shaking Up Is Hard to Do!

As part of the natural life cycle of a parish, St. Paul’s has seen significant staff changes in recent years. Christine D’Amico left a growing Children, Youth & Families program to tend her equally burgeoning business at Open Minds Studio. After years of service, Christine Spalding began a well-deserved retirement. Chris Harris, nearly through seminary training, moved to St. Bartholomew’s in anticipation of ordination. Even our part-time administrative assistant left, getting married and moving to Los Angeles.

While it was hard to say goodbye to old friends, change creates opportunities. Assisted by a Human Resources professional, our executive staff spent most of 2015 reviewing SPC’s staffing needs. Some positions needed more; others, less. Existing staff held down the fort during this assessment period, juggling extra responsibilities and making do.

Worker Justice begins at home.  The transition time also allowed us to address some concerns about worker justice right here at home. Certain key staff members were woefully underpaid. Bringing these salaries up to market standards was a matter of justice, aligning with our Vision for Mission goal to “proclaim the gospel values of justice, peace & environmental stewardship to the world through our investments, buildings & purchasing power.”

The emerging staff structure will more accurately reflect the Vision for Mission plan overall, function following vision. It should also provide strong support for our finance department. We’re excited about the new team that’s taking shape.

The arrival of a new Director of Administrative Operations means that our loyal staff can look forward to handing over those administrative duties they’ve juggled for most of 2015.

This is where you can make a difference. Returning to an office that’s fully staffed for growth means filling all open positions while maintaining last year’s augmented support for the Music program as well as Children, Youth & Family. Fair compensation for those employees is not only a matter of justice, it’s good business.

Fully funding all programs and staff would entail a 16% budget increase in 2016. That's a pretty tough Stewardship goal. Balancing justice and good stewardship, Chapter will consider funding increases out of reserves with the goal of increasing stewardship giving at least 6% per year over the next three years. This approach would align our budget, our revenues, and our values.

---Betsey Monsell 
Treasurer, St. Paul’s Cathedral

Remember:  Ingathering Sunday is 22 November!

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Staffing Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Do we really need to hire more staff? 
 The only new staff positions contemplated for 2016 are some security services, which would be contracted out. The part time bookkeeping position will increase to full time.

Q. Can we afford these salary raises? Shouldn’t we focus on balancing the budget? 
A. We can’t afford not to pay our people market wages. Not only is it a matter of justice, a budget that includes fair compensation positions St. Paul’s to hire competitively when new positions come open.

Q. Why all the changes? Everything seems to be running fine. 
A. If everything seems fine, be sure to thank a staff member! Many of them have worked extra days & hours to keep things running during the assessment period. We’re also grateful to the many parish volunteers who’ve shouldered extra work during this transition period.

Stewardship Witness: the whole family

Hello, my name is Jasmin Kaeser and I have been a member here at St. Paul’s for about a year and a half, which is about as long as I’ve been in San Diego.

Like many of you, I was raised Roman Catholic and have only recently come to call myself an Episcopalian. I grew up in Louisville, Kentucky far away from any extended family and over time many members of my home church became my family. They taught me Christian values such as kindness, charity, and humility through their actions and I grew to love them as my own flesh and blood. But as I grew older and began to learn more about the doctrines and teachings of the greater church community, I started to feel conflicted. I felt that I was often told what to believe, but very rarely was I told why and when I asked questions, the answers were never very satisfying. I worked hard at first to compartmentalize my faith and my social justice concerns, convincing myself that I could believe in God and the message of Jesus Christ without adhering to the dogma of Roman Catholicism. But remaining silent was often not an option for me.

I remember the moment that I decided to leave the Catholic Church very vividly. It’s going to sound incredibly silly and childish at first, but hear me out. I was in Sunday school in 8th grade, preparing for Confirmation when the topic of heaven came up. I can’t remember who started the argument or exactly what was said, but I remember the class ending with the director of the Sunday school program and I fighting, voices raised, over whether or not chickens had souls. He had told me that because chickens, and in fact all animals, did not have souls they could not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven and therefore my cat, Elvis, would not be there to greet me at the pearly gates. I found this to be profoundly unfair and frankly absurd, because really what is the point of getting into heaven if you can’t even bring your pets with you? Keep your white robes and harps, I want my cat!

So last year when I met Bishop Mathes for the first time in one of the Wednesday night Episcopal Way classes, I was a little anxious. St. Paul’s had been a warm and welcoming home to me and I was ready to commit myself to finally being confirmed as an Episcopalian, but I still had one burning question that had to be answered. And so, at the very end of the class, I asked. “Do animals have souls?” The bishop pulled out his phone, walked over to me and showed me the lock screen on his phone: a picture of his black Labrador. And he asked me with a smile “What do you think?”

That moment encapsulates my experience at St. Paul’s and with the Episcopal faith. That joy in community and discovery. That openness to listen to our fears, validate them and attempt to heal us as each of us travels along the sometimes bumpy road of our spiritual journey. It may seem like a small thing, but that encounter with the bishop turned a moment of pain and doubt from adolescence into an opportunity for greater spiritual growth. Since I started coming to St. Paul’s, I’ve felt that sense of community and family here that I had when I was a child. Even just having a place where people knew my name and said hello was a huge relief when I first moved to San Diego. And in the short time that I have been here, I have learned to appreciate being part of a community that supports you not only in those areas that you have in common, but also in those areas where you differ.

Last year’s Living Water campaign was the first time I made any substantial contribution to a church. I did it because this congregation has become my family and it has been a wonderful place to grow and learn. My contribution is a way to say thank you to all of you for your love and support, as well as a way to make sure there are opportunities here for the next new person to walk through those doors. Thank you.

Jasmin Kaesar

Stewardship Witness: Saying "Yes"

When Terri asked me to do this, I said NO.

 Over the years I have been touched and brought to tears by stewardship narratives of transformation from many of you, my friends. With brave hearts you have stood in front of us spilling the most personal spiritual biographies. And I don’t have anything like that. And so I said NO. And then I started to think about the rich Christian heritage that I was born into, and it is still growing within me today

Even though I’ve been at St. Paul’s for years, I am an outsider to the Episcopal church as many of you are. In a world where church attendance is an anomaly, I grew up going to church—the Methodist Church- the tradition my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were all part of. And in a world where religion is increasingly used as a cudgel, that church was kind, welcoming, and stable. Church was so much like a second home, that when we fled our own home, just 5 minutes ahead of the Paseo Grande Fire in 1967, we went straight to the minister’s house and knocked on the door in the middle of the night and were embraced and comforted even though I threw up all night!

I took this love of our church family for granted, of course. No big spiritual awakening. John brought me to St. Paul’s after we met in a folk dance class and again, there was no lightning-bolt moment. Just a lot of kind people, some really nice music, that kind of thing. No big story there. But deep inside I always knew John and I would return to the Methodist church. Right John? Sure!

In 1983 Becky and Kathy, my two step-daughters came to live with us. I knew I was going to need help. I turned to my church friends for support and there they were. Are you seeing a pattern here? How many times was I going to take this for granted?

John and I said “Yes” to facilitating a Kerygma Bible Study series in the early ‘90s. I did it because they needed someone and I was curious. My mind and heart were changed about the essence of Christianity as our church friends looked with new eyes at the traditions that we had taken for granted- sometimes with discomfort.

At work, as a public servant and manager of people, St. Paul’s remarkable commitment to love and justice by each of you gave me many “aha” moments that were a checklist as I reviewed my To Do list on the white board each morning. It changed my life in the marketplace.

In outlining all the reasons my story makes a lousy stewardship witness, I began to understand something new and important about my spiritual journey. Most of us walk a long, slow road toward God and we need help. We don’t get angels or a pillar of fire to guide us. We get each other.

The joy of how St. Paul’s does stewardship is that this is our time to look around and say, Yes. Go ahead, look around you right now and remember the person who opened a door and let you inside when something in your life was roaring after you. Give a nod to the person across the aisle who made life less lonely and more loving. Say yes to the life God is building in you as part of this community of faith. And while you’re at it, say yes to one of the stewardship receptions listed in your bulletin. They’re really fun.

It wasn’t until John and I began bringing the girls to church back when they were teenagers that I became conscious of a deep, prayerful connection with the divine. Up until then, I’d been like the disciples on the Road to Emmaus, who didn’t recognize Jesus even when he was walking beside them and teaching them. And like those disciples, it was only in looking back that I was able to recognize how very present Jesus had been all along. And so, in the end, I said YES.

I would like to share with you a prayer that is part of my family heritage that reflects the angst at being forced out of Prussia 150 years ago because of economic failures and recurring wars. It brings to mind the horrors of the Syrian crisis, but the deep richness of Jesus’ love and of God’s hope, if we allow ourselves to help build that hope. We say this as at family gatherings and Thanksgiving.

For the land of golden sunshine and skies of azure blue
For the hand’s warm clasp and friendly smiles
Our God we do thank you
For the right to think and worship as our conscience bids us due
For the freedom from all tyrants
Our God we do thank you
For the privilege of eating together as we are about to do
For the years of life thou has given us all
Our God, we do thank you.

Like you, I love St. Paul’s for the quiet and mysterious reasons as much as for the moments of great revelation. And I choose to be generous—joyfully generous—so that our doors remain open for those who come knocking—in the middle of the night or any time at all.

-Paula Peeling

Pledging as a Spiritual Practice or Does God really need my money?

It's been a deep joy to move through one more stewardship campaign with you this past month. The stories of how St. Paul's has been a source of Living Water moved me to tears and laughter more than once. Thank you to everyone who participated, hosted parties, helped out, shared stories and asked questions. Thank you to our committee, to Elaine our chair, and to our hard working staff who made it all possible. And finally, thank you to Dean Penny for her continued inspiration and energy--Living Water all.

Sunday morning we brought our pledges forward to support our mutual mission and ministry in the coming year. You've heard from Dean Penny talk about the exciting prospects for 2015 as we seek to expand our Children, Youth and Family ministry, our pastoral care and develop our music program. You have heard our finance committee say that if could increase our pledge income by 9%, we can reach these goals and take our ministry to places we can only imagine.

But I want to close this campaign by inviting you to forget all of that for just a moment. I want to end this campaign by reminding us all that at its core, giving is a spiritual practice. Does St. Paul's do fantastic ministry and touch the lives of thousands thanks to you? Absolutely! Could we do even more if we were to grow by 9%? You bet we will! But at its heart, the giving that Jesus talked about was never about the church's need to receive, it was based on our need to give.

You see, giving is an essential spiritual practice just like prayer, worship or serving others, and if we miss out on that, we miss the point.

Why is giving so important? Because giving is just about the most subversive, counter cultural act we can do today--particularly in a consumer-driven, debt-driven society like ours. Jesus knew that money was where the rubber met the road when it comes to our faith and love of God. "Where your money is, your heart will be also," wasn't a campaign slogan. Jesus was revealing a profound truth about faith, that was true then and now. Giving challenges us to trust God and invites us to start doubting the economy of scarcity and fear; an economy where enough is never enough, and stuff is supposed to buy us happiness.

And so I invite you to prayerfully consider making a pledge  that challenges you to re-think what is possible. A pledge that pushes you out of your comfort zone and invites you to question your priorities. Consider a pledge that doesn't fit your budget, but requires you to re-write your budget. Not because God needs your money, but because but because we all need to live more deeply into that most elusive, most challenging spiritual practice of them all...and then watch where it moves us...and our heart.

Chris Harris

PS - You can pledge online here!
Want to see where your pledge fits in? Click here (PDF).
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Want to pay your pledge with an automatic debit? Click here.

Stewardship Witness: Invitation to Journey

During Stewardship every year, we ask members of the community to share a little of their journey and tell us why they choose to be generous.

I have not always been an Episcopalian, nor for that matter, even a practicing Christian. I was one of those people around the fringes—looking enviously at those who went to church regularly. They seemed so happy. Their lives seemed so full of purpose. I wanted to be that way too. And so I watched and watched and slowly started to attend church by myself, drawn each time deeper into the mystery of Jesus.

I started attending St. Paul’s in 1988 while I was taking the Kerygma one year course that studied the Bible in terms of themes—you know: sin, redemption forgiveness, love and more. I was captured during Easter week that first year by the services that took place every night (I didn’t even know enough to call it liturgy then)., and the enveloping “arms of love” of those who swept me upstairs after each service to share in a pot luck supper. I was home. I have never left.

Over the years, i became more and more active in the celebration of the eucharist, serving as an acolyte and a chalice bearer and then finally as a lector and a choir member. I have come to understand the eucharist as a journey—with Jesus—and with all of you.

This understanding has been helped along by my travels. One was a trip to Java. Now, one of the first things a tourist is taken to upon arriving on Java, is a Javanese dance. I remember watching the dancers move in slow motion—unbearably slow motion— and I wondered “Oy, Veh, are they never going to get the show on the road?” Those dances, and the puppet shows that go on for days and other things in the culture were all about Ramayana, the hero of the great Hindu epic. It was during the visit to Prambanan , the Hindu temple covered with hundreds of bas reliefs depicting Ramayana’s journey, that I came to understand that those slow movements gave us all a chance to go on the journey too,. There he is: —teaching—eating—sleeping—in the rains —in the sunshine—walking —listening —and ——there are all his followers accompanying him, listening to him, eating with him, watching him— in the rains—in the sunshine.

Now fast forward few years to my visits to various Orthodox services while I was attending St. George’s College in Jerusalem. Those services all seem go on and on—but—wait—I realized that they are taking us on a journey too—with Jesus, for isn’t every step of the liturgy to do with what He does and how we accompany him and share His journey with Him?

And the final journey with Jesus that I wish to share is the Via Dolorosa in Jerusalem. Walking along that way profoundly brings home every thing that He suffered and rose above.

And we do it here at St Paul’s every time we participate in the Eucharist. We —all of us—are present on Jesus’s journey. It motivates us to be Jesus in the world—to bring His message in our actions and words and demeanor. We are his people and the sheep of His pasture. I can think of no other group to believers that I yearn to be a part of. I am home for sure. My mind and heart and treasure are here at St. Paul’s. And every year I give generously because it helps me live out that journey with Jesus— the one we reenact each Sunday in our worship. He gave all of himself for us. I give back as much as I am able so that I might follow his lead, and so that others might be touched by the mission and ministry of this place, and slowly, be drawn into the journey with Him as well.

Mim Sellgren

Visit the Living Water pledge site for more information

Thank you to all of our witnesses who so courageously share a part of their lives with us so that we might be opened up just a little more to how God is working in our lives and in the life of St. Paul’s.

Do you have a story to tell about why you are thankful to St. Paul’s? We would love to share your reflections! Send them to stpaulblog@gmail.com.  

Stewardship Witness: Love wants to be loved

During stewardship every year, we ask members of the community to share a little of their journey and tell us why they choose to be generous.

I came to San Diego 5 years ago, with Martha, who is now my wife. Like many people new to San Diego, I went about trying to find a sense of community. But San Diego can be a hard town to meet new friends!

I tried going to the LGBT Center’s Latina Women’s Group, but it was not for me. They weren’t very friendly and, oddly, I did not feel welcome. I missed my church as well. So I tried going to a church that was recommended to me by a friend. But the music was not for me! It was played by a rock band, and it was much too loud!

Then one day we found St. Paul’s Cathedral when we were walking by and saw the banner that said, “Misa en Español.”

I came in on a Sunday, and the first thing I saw was a woman saying the mass! Now THAT was something interesting! I had never seen that before.

And then I heard the invitation to communion: “This is the table, not of the church, but of Jesus, come you who have tried to follow and you who have failed, come not because the church invites you, it is Jesus and he invites you to meet him here.”

When I heard that invitation, I have no words to describe how powerful it was for me. I knew right then and there I had found a home.

As a lesbian Latina, I have never experienced a church like this, a church where I was welcomed, where I was accepted for who I am. Now every time I take communion my heart jumps for joy. Sometimes it’s so much my happiness that I want to cry.

I love St. Paul’s because there is so much freedom here. You can ask questions! And you can disagree with the answers too! Here I feel like I am building a true relationship with Jesus, and it is a church family that is very friendly and welcoming.

One day recently there was a family who wasn’t sure if they could come to communion. The mother didn’t think she could take communion because her old church told her that she wasn’t good enough. I told her – yes you can! You are welcome, and she went with me.

I give generously to St. Paul’s because I want everyone, like that family, and like me, to feel the love and the welcome of this community. In Spanish we say “cariño quiere cariño.” Translated into English that is “love wants to be loved.”

Saint Paul’s Cathedral, the Latino Service and the whole community sustain my faith in myself, in the world and in God.

Thank you!

Gladis Jiménez González

Thank you to all of our witnesses who so courageously share a part of their lives with us so that we might be opened up just a little more to how God is working in our lives and in the life of St. Paul’s.

Do you have a story to tell about why you are thankful to St. Paul’s? We would love to share your reflections! Send them to stpaulblog@gmail.com.  

Visit the Living Water pledge site for more information

To Tithe ….?

Around this time of year I usually start thinking about my tithe for the next year. When I was ordained in 1997 I ended my internal annual argument about whether I should tithe: in prayer, God made it clear to me that I should always take 10% off the top of my income and pledge it to the church. It was a great relief not to debate the question any more, and I have never regretted the decision or missed the income: that’s the blessing of the tithe.

This year, however, I find myself wrestling again with the question of my pledge. When I arrived in San Diego in February, one of my first decisions was to make a pledge both to the Cathedral and to the Diocese. As the Dean of the Cathedral and therefore part of the diocesan structure, I felt I should offer part of my tithe to the Diocese, so I made a three-year pledge to the Building the Serving Church campaign. As the months went on I became aware, first, of my responsibility as President of St. Paul’s Episcopal Homes Inc., then of our relationship with Dorcas House, then with the ministry of Episcopal Community Services. I also felt called to make a multi-year pledge to a capital campaign for Shrine Mont, the camp and conference center of the Diocese of Virginia, otherwise known as “the happiest place on earth”, where my children and I attended innumerable camps and retreats over the course of seventeen years.

So now, this fall, I’m facing a new dilemma. It’s not, “Can I give 10%?”, but “How can I give ONLY 10%?” I have made commitments to the cathedral, the diocese, and Shrine Mont. None of those commitments are negotiable downwards; of course I want to honor the Cathedral’s call to increase my pledge by at least 10%. But what about SPEH, Dorcas House, and ECS, all of which do extraordinary work, work that is the Gospel in action among those in whom we most clearly see the face of Jesus: the aged, the abandoned children, the homeless and mentally ill? How can I make my 10% stretch in a meaningful way to include these other important ministries that have become so close to my heart? The answer I receive in prayer seems to be, “I can’t; 10% is no longer enough.” And so the question becomes, what will my next giving threshold be?

Somewhere deep within me I know there is answer that will bring me the same measure of peace that I received seventeen years ago. God is calling me to a new challenge, and God will not let me fall short of that challenge. But, for now, I’m still arguing.

The Very Rev. Penny Bridges

Editor’s Note: If you feel moved to share your own discernment process, All Our Voices would love to include your reflections! Send them to stpaulblog@gmail.com.  

Visit the Living Water pledge site for more information

Stewardship: a joyful noise!

Each of our Stewardship Receptions this year have been special -- but Sunday night's post-Evensong event in the Chapel was especially sweet as we were able to welcome The Rev. Canons Barnabas Hunt and Andrew Rank – the last two living members of The Society of St. Paul – and hear a hint of what's to come from that exciting new space! Learn more about The Society of St. Paul here:
http://www.stpaulcathedral.org/society-st-paul

Stewardship witness: a reminder that I trust in God

My name is Bella. I arrived at St. Paul’s in 2010 by the grace of God and the gift of Google search. I attended a 10:30 mass and between trying to do what I would later know as “Episcopal calisthenics” I savored the perfumed smoke of incense, the heavenly sounds of choir and organ, and the words of God’s love that were spoken from this pulpit. As luck and fate would have it, a Newcomer’s Brunch was to be held after the service that day. I still recall meeting Chris Harris and Allisyn Thomas in the Guild Room. I had no doubt that I would return the next Sunday. For the first time in my life I had a church home: St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Since then, stewardship has become an essential part of my spiritual practice. But it wasn’t always that way. The process has been a spiritual journey for me and one that’s closely interwoven to my relationship with God and my desire to always know and love Him.

As a St. Paul’s newbie, I gave happily and readily but I’ll admit, without much understanding of WHY I gave except for a hazy concept that giving was just something you did when you belonged to a church. I knew that during service announcements we were lovingly reminded that we were all full members, but I already had my free coffee mug and now I really wanted to be IN at this wonderful place!

After giving like that for a while, I went to a 9am forum on stewardship. Doughnut in hand, I settled in for the presentation which included a silly video about tithing. Actors portrayed common and somewhat misguided reasons for giving. One person reasoned, “Hmm, the seats here ARE pretty comfy. And the coffee is free! ” Another thought, “When they see my huge check – placed face up, of course – they’re going to be so grateful – to ME!”

I looked around the Great Hall that morning and felt guilty. I didn’t want anyone to know that I saw parts of myself in the video’s caricatures. While a bit goofy, it did a really good job of illustrating some of the external reasons for giving that I recognized and think are easy enough to adopt. Transactional things like giving to feel like we’re members or to confirm that we’re generous or to feel like we’re helping to support St. Paul’s programs. That day, Chris encouraged us to instead view stewardship as a spiritual practice. It was critical advice.

But how would I even begin to make giving a spiritual practice?! That concept was so completely foreign to me yet I tried to make sense of it. After a period of prayer and reflection, I started to realize that I did have spiritual reasons for giving. Reasons that focused on God and my faith, not membership or being charitable.

I was at that point with giving when life changed a lot. I experienced several losses in a very short span of time. My wonderful Dad became ill and in 2011, I lost him to cancer. In 2012 my dog died and a relationship ended. Earlier this year the hospice I loved working for went under; I lost approximately 999 coworkers and…my job.

Earlier in my life, my Dad’s death alone would have thrown me into deep despair. I think that’s pretty understandable and nobody would have blamed me for losing my marbles a bit. Yet during the past few years of loss, I can honestly say that I’ve felt an overwhelming sense of faith, grace, love, strength and JOY.

I’ve thought about why, during difficult times, I felt joy in my heart. My conclusion is that my outlook on life has been drastically altered because of two blessings.

The first blessing is my home at St. Paul’s. As my church family, you’ve seen me through a sea of changes. During the hardest times, you cared about me, listened to me and even fed me.

The second blessing, of all things, turned out to be my efforts to grasp stewardship as spiritual practice, following that 9am stewardship forum and its silly video.

•  I’d been welcoming loss into my life in a proactive way by learning to perceive letting go as a positive experience and not a negative one. 
•  I’d been letting go of money without experiencing feelings of attachment to it, which strengthened my belief that this material world is not the kingdom and what money can buy isn’t the treasure. 
•  I’d been developing a clear understanding of my trust in God. Giving money away without worry had let me to live into the truth that God provides what we really need in abundance: solace, comfort, friendship and love. I live in perpetual gratitude for the presence of these things in my life. 

Without realizing it, my giving had become a true reflection of my belief that God would always take care of me. Going forward, stewardship will continue to serve as a reminder that I trust in God and therefore, I live in joy and fear not.

To close, I want to say thank you for figuratively and literally holding me when I was grieving death and navigating change. Your beautiful expression of God’s love both safeguarded and fortified my heart. You helped me see the joy, not the sadness and feel the comfort instead of the pain. You’re my friends and my family. I love you and am grateful for you.

Bella Suavengco