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I remember my dad teaching me the fundamentals of patience and determination when we were in his woodshop. I was working on my Pinewood Derby car for Cub Scouts. My dad had helped with the design by cutting the wood on the bandsaw to my rough specifications. After he’d cut it, he gave it to me to sand. I gave it back to him about 30 seconds later and told him I was done. We played this game of back and forth about five times before he pressed it into my hands and said, “You need to take your time and sand this until it is smooth. It will not look good if we paint it and the wood is still rough and splintered.” And he was right.

I took the car back and sanded it for what seemed an eternity, and what was in reality probably five minutes. He looked it over and said it was better, but there was still a lot to be done. As I sanded and he worked on a different project, he told me about the importance of patience and perseverance, saying that anything worth doing was worth doing well. At the time, it seemed like another chance for him to not do what I wanted, which happened all the time. But having watched students, kids in youth group, and my own children plow through projects, I understand and appreciate his patience with me.

It would have been far easier for him to take the car from me and sand it himself. He liked sanding, and he didn’t like to hear me complaining; doing it himself could have been a win/win for him, but not for me. Patience, perseverance, and determination are too often not viewed as talents but as underlying features of talent. But determination is a talent in itself. It took me twelve years of mediocre performance in public school to realize that I needed to do well in all my classes, not just the ones I liked.

Patience and determination in sanding and academics is one thing; being determined to be patient with people is something altogether different. No person we meet is a finished product, nor did they become who they are all at once. We are all the product of our environments, choices, abilities, likes and dislikes. We are shaped every day by different forces in the world.

When someone tries my patience, my instinct is twofold: first, to get as far away as possible from said individual, and to write them off as not worth my time. Neither instinct is born out of love; both are born out of self-preservation and selfishness. Jesus doesn’t suggest that we love our neighbors, nor does he say we might love our enemies; we are flat-out told to love our neighbors, especially our enemies and those who hate us.

And there’s never been a shortage of hate to go around. People like to act as though we have more hate now than ever before, but a simple look at our past shows that hate’s been strong for as long as there’s been written history (and likely beforehand too). Hate isn’t new, but neither is love.

What could be new is that the platforms we use to spread hate, malice, and anger could also be used to spread love, gentleness, and grace. What would our lives look like if we responded to hate with love? This isn’t a philosophical question: what would YOUR life look like if you did this? Are we willing to try this? Can we become determined to be patient with one another, and answer hate with love? We have an unprecedented ability to communicate with the world around us; are we using it to love as we are loved?

The Rev. Jason Shelby
Rector

For people of the word, whose faith is bound up in books, we often give little credence to words. We say things like talk is cheap, actions speak louder than words, and put your money where your mouth is. Even our patron saint is purported to have said, “Preach the gospel always, and if necessary, use words.” Truly, at times it seems that talk IS cheap, and sometimes it’s viewed as completely worthless. How many of us have clicked on user agreements without ever reading what we agreed to? Apple’s Media Services Terms and Conditions, something anyone using an iPhone must consent to, is just under ten thousand words; this is not counting the numerous links in the text that lead to more terms and conditions.

It’s hard to make the argument that words matter in a world that gives so little value to them. There are several words that have power but little to no value, words that are best left unwritten and unsaid, while the words that should have the most value have been weakened by overuse and/or misuse, or turned into exclamations of disgust. The first word to come to mind is love. Nobody would think it amiss if I were to say, “I love my family, tacos, and Star Wars.” I have a great fondness for tacos and Star Wars, but if pressed, I don’t love them in the same way as I love my family. It would be weird if I did. In the same way, the name of Jesus should fill us with hope and love; it should not be the preface to an insult.

Paul writes in his letter to the Ephesians, “So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil…Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you,” Ephesians 4:25-26, 29-32.

Words matter. What we say matters to ourselves and each other. What words do we subject ourselves to during the course of the day? What are we reading and whom are we hearing, and is it worthy of our time? Are the voices in our lives building others up or tearing them down? We can be angry without denigrating and hurt without verbally lashing out. Imagine having the courage to say, “I AM HURTING!” instead of verbally (or physically) attacking the person/people that hurt us? We talk and write volumes without ever saying anything real about who we are.

And sometimes, we say nothing, which can be worse. Sometimes, rather than pointing out what is wrong, sinful, or evil, we say nothing. In a world where silence equals assent, silence can be deadly. Rather than confront words of hate, violence, or ignorance, we stay silent, because silence is easier than conflict.

Do we believe the words Paul wrote to the Ephesians? Do we believe that we should speak the truth to our neighbors because we are all members of one another? If we do believe that, I have a bit of good news: we don’t have to wonder what truth we are to speak to one another. The greatest truth we have is that we are loved by God, and that in loving one another, we are loving God in return. We know what it means to love God and our neighbor; thankfully, Jesus was very clear about this (see Matthew 25 and Luke 10:25-37). There are so many empty words being thrown about in the world. Let us make the words we write and say count; let us never be ashamed to have the words we write and say be repeated. We are people of the Word. Let us live like it.

The Rev. Jason Shelby
Rector

I heard the following story in the book Liturgies for Resisting Empires by Kat Armas, and she credits it to the indigenous people of North America.

Once there was a great forest fire, and all the animals of the forest fled to the edge of the tree line and watched as tree after tree went up in flames. The bears, deer, and elk watched in fear, as did the smaller animals. The hummingbird saw the fire and immediately flew to a nearby lake, picked up a single drop of water in her beak, and flew back to the forest where she dropped it into the fire. Again and again, the hummingbird flew back and forth from the lake to the fire, each time with a single drop of water in her beak.

The other animals watched in amazement as the hummingbird zoomed back and forth from water to fire. They were incredulous; did she really think she could put out the fire drop by drop? Finally, an elk asked her to stop. She hovered in the air just in front of the elk, and he backed up so he didn’t have to look at her with crossed eyes. “Hummingbird, what do you think you’re doing?” She flew to the tip of his nose and said, “What I can.”

The Rev. Jason Shelby
Rector

I can’t remember where I heard this, but it is some of the best advice I’ve ever been given. When life seems unbearably hard, and nothing is going your way, give thanks to God for what you have. Give thanks for the things that you never think about unless they’re missing or broken. Give thanks for the socks and shoes on your feet, the clothes that you’re wearing, the glasses that allow you to see.

Give thanks that you were able to eat lunch today and that you will be able to eat dinner tonight; give thanks that you don’t have to wonder IF you will eat, but only WHAT you will eat. Give thanks that you have electricity and running water. If you don’t have any of those things, give thanks for the air that you breathe; no one wants air more than a person who doesn’t have it.

This isn’t a way to negate the way we feel. This isn’t a way to say to ourselves, “At least I don’t have it as bad as the dude without shoes.” This is a way to give thanks for what we DO have. What’s more, it’s a way to slow down our minds, to stop catastrophizing and to begin to pick out close-at-hand, concrete details. When I give thanks for my shoes, I look down at my New Balance 515s and feel my foot inside the shoe; when I give thanks for my socks, I think about how I don’t like wearing shoes without socks, and then I’m doubly thankful that I have them. As I dwell on my socks, I give thanks that I had a clean pair in my drawer this morning, and that I have the ability to wash, dry, and fold the ones I’m wearing.

There’s a lot that’s wrong in the world, and it seems like there’s always some new terrible thing that’s about to destroy us. But there’s a lot that’s right in the world too. I can’t talk about the Good News of Christ’s love for us if I allow myself to be continually weighed down by the bad news of the world. Over and over again, we are told in Scripture not to be afraid. One of the surest ways I’ve found of dispelling fear is giving thanks.

The Rev. Jason Shelby
Rector