​Download this printable PDF with highlights from The VOICE Online to share with visitors and with parishioners who are not online.

With summer's slower pace comes an opportunity to reconnect with God. Bishop Hughes encourages us to approach the season as a Sabbath time, marked by study, prayer, reflection, and renewal. 
(Time: 5:00 | Read the transcript.)  See Bishop Hughes' Suggested Summer Reading List.
​
​Video Transcript
This is Bishop Hughes in the Diocese of Newark, and it is the fourth week of June, and it’s time in our diocese where we start thinking about Summer Sabbath. Every year, someone tells me it’s “Summer Sabbath, I’m not going to church,” and I think everyone knows at this point that is not what I’m talking about. We don’t just take a pass from our spiritual life. We don’t just say, “Hey, no more Jesus for the time that I’m on Sabbath.” That is not how that works at all. But rather, summer Sabbath is a chance for us to regroup spiritually. Our schedules are a little bit more flexible. Vacation time is planned. We have less intensity to our day-to-day schedule and responsibilities. There’s no school, there’s no homework, there’s no checking anybody’s homework or getting them to various places that they need to go to during the school year, and the same thing seems to happen to everybody else’s schedule, September through about mid-June, and then things start to loosen up.

So during this time where you have a little bit more freedom, I ask you to approach this time as a Sabbath time, as a time to ask yourself, “What do I need? What do I need in order to strengthen my faith life? What do I need in order to be refreshed by God? How can I be renewed spiritually?” To ask those questions, I want to offer just a few things to think about.

One, to do some study. It’s a big year in the United States. We’re going to celebrate 250 years of our being a nation, and there’s an opportunity to really think about our history, to think about the fullness of our history. I feel so sad for people who think that if we look at the hard parts of our history, that somehow that makes us less American or means we’re less patriotic, when actually the direct opposite is what happens. When we have a full approach to who we are, we learn about what we’ve done. We also learn how God has worked through people, and most often it’s when people are working for the justice of others. So read as much as you can. Read Jemar Tisby, read Michelle Alexander, read Katherine Stewart, read Annette Gordon Reed, Kelly Brown Douglas. There’s all sorts of authors – I’ll make sure there’s a list for you – that are worth reading in terms of getting a good handle on our American history and on some of the things that we are facing right now. So, do some, do some study that way.

When you also are doing that kind of reading, do some study in the Bible. Pick a book of the Bible. You pick the one that speaks to you at this particular moment. If you have problems picking one out, talk with your priest about it. Let them help you identify something you’re interested in looking at. Pick a book of the Bible and spend the entire summer just on that one book. Just sit with it, read a part, and read, and let that sit with you. Keep going over the pieces that catch your attention. If you want to study in terms of looking at the history or the literature or deeper meanings, you can, but what I’m encouraging you to do is to stay with the words that are written and ask yourself as you read them, “What is it I’m learning about the life that I live right now? How do these words speak to the time that I’m in, in this very moment?”

And then the last thing that I would say – so asking you, spend time with people that you love and that you enjoy, spend some time studying our history, spend some time studying scripture, and then spend some time putting yourself simply in the presence of God. And for some of us, the thought of sitting in quiet makes us very nervous, so find ways to do that that bring you a sense of peace. For some people, it is sitting in sacred space. So, take yourself to the church around the corner. It doesn’t have to be your own church, but go to one that has its doors open during the week, and just sit in that quiet, and let that quiet space be a place where you can be in the presence of God. Some of us do that. I have a little prayer corner in my house, the place where I like to sit, and I have my journal with me, and my spiritual books with me, and my Bible with me. Sometimes I read, sometimes I write, sometimes I just simply sit in the quiet, listening for the sound of God’s beckoning to me.

All of these things together are ways that we renew, we refresh, we reconnect to God. I hope you try any one of these, or all of them, or maybe even something new, but I hope that summer Sabbath will be a blessing to your soul and to your spirit.

ANNOUNCEMENTS 
Here’s what’s happening at St. John’s, around the diocese, and in the local community.
The choir is on break for the summer. The Vestry will be back in August. 
SAVE THE DATES:
June 28 - Morning Prayer
July 5th - Morning Prayer - no coffee hour
July 12th - Eucharist and baptism with The Rev. Mark W. Waldon, Celebrant and preacher
July 19th - Morning Prayer
July 26th - Eucharist with The Rev. Mark W. Waldon, Celebrant and preacher
---------------------------------------
There will be no Saturday Luncheon Social on July 4th. 
​St. John's offers meals through our Saturday Luncheon Social program. Every Saturday from noon to 1:00 P.M.
Meals are a love offering and free provided by Local Community & Faith groups at no cost to you.
Meet new & old friends while enjoying a meal with others.
If you or someone you know needs a decent meal, join us on Saturdays from noon to 1:00 P.M.
Parish Hall - St. John's Church, 226 Cornelia Street, entrance at the red door on Cedar Street.
Are you a local group or organization that would like to host a luncheon? Contact us for more information - stjohnsboontonnj@gmail.com
#SaturdayLuncheonSocial #SLS #StJohnsBoonton
-----------------------------------
PRAYER LIST Let Kathy Cascone (casconek(at)yahoo.com or 973-219-1007) know if you wish to add anyone to the parish prayer list, or if a name is ready to be removed. 
COMMUNICATION Staying well-informed is important, especially during transitional times. Here are some ways to learn what’s happening and stay involved:

• Alert Sharon Liparini if your email changes, so you can continue to receive parish email announcements.
• Check out our website, Facebook page and other social media. (And let Sandra Lee Schubert know if you’d like to help post photos and events.)
• Subscribe to The VOICE Online, the diocesan newsletter published every other Wednesday with news, events and features from around the diocese. Sign up at https://dioceseofnewark.org/e-news

Download this printable PDF with highlights from The VOICE Online to share with visitors, and with parishioners who are not online.
This Pentecost season, Bishop Hughes reflects on the Holy Spirit’s power to help us do hard things – including standing alongside neighbors whose humanity is too often denied. (Time: 6:17.)

Video Transcript

This is Bishop Hughes in the Diocese of Newark, and I want to talk with you about doing hard things. In part, what’s on my mind is the fact that we just celebrated the feast of the Pentecost, and I think it had to have been a very hard thing to be the disciples, to have Jesus leave, him telling you to go out into all the world, telling this great new lesson, sharing the good news of who God is all over the world, and saying that the Holy Spirit is going to come and help you make that happen. That that had to feel really hard to be left with all of that, and yet the Holy Spirit came and empowered them, and they were able to go out and do those things.
And friends, I want to say to all of us that the Holy Spirit comes right now and empowers us and fills us and sends us out to do hard things, and I think one of the hardest things that we have to deal with right now is the dehumanization of so many people, all represented in that one little word, “illegal.” It’s a dehumanizing word, and it’s used to dehumanize. When you hear it used, you hear people using it in such a way as it seems that it’s almost like it’s a person’s name. That that person doesn’t have a name anymore, they didn’t have a family, they don’t have hopes, they don’t have dreams, they don’t have needs, that they’re no longer human, they’re simply illegal.
When we hear that, what we should hear is the full intention of dehumanization. It’s not the first word that’s been used to dehumanize in this country, and the United States is not the only place that has used language to dehumanize people. First, you dehumanize someone by using that language and using it so completely that people stop thinking of those folks as people, and so it’s okay to do whatever you want with them or to them. And it can feel, as you resist that behavior, it can feel like you’re on your own and you’re the only one. And how do you argue against that when it seems that the most powerful have taken up all the airspace using that language, and then also taking the actions that are dehumanizing.
So, to say that a whole group is illegal, and to then start detaining people, whether they’re documented or not, to call them illegal, whether they’re documented or not, to remove their legal rights, whether they’re documented or not, which in our country it’s been one of the kind of the pride and joys of our country is that we treat all people with dignity and with a rule of law and with an orderliness that whether they’ve broken the law or not, we don’t change. That we continue to treat them with that level of respect.
So, what do we do? One of the things that we do in our diocese that is simple and hard is we get ourselves to the detention center, Delaney Hall in Newark. We are a regular presence there on the first and fourth Sundays of the month, go in the afternoon, people from all sorts of churches. Not always the same people, there’s a core group that’s there, but different people come as they have the time and the ability to come and ours is a pastoral prayerful presence there. We pray with people, we listen to what’s happening in their lives. We recognize that often it is the breadwinner, whether they are documented or undocumented, it’s the breadwinner who’s detained, and if they have the right to be in this country, they may have lost their job by the time they’re finally released, because sometimes detention goes on and on and on.
So, we’re there to help people get food, to get diapers, I mean, simple basic things. We’re not the only ones there, and it’s not just faith traditions that are there. There are people who believe in no god at all, but who believe that people should be treated humanely, who are there to support folks. And for us, from our perspective as Episcopalians, who hold that Baptismal Covenant in a central place, because at its very heart is the greatest commandment. That every promise in the Baptismal Covenant reflects back to Jesus saying, “Love God with all your heart, mind, and soul, and then love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
At the heart of resisting dehumanization for us, what makes us able to go to such a hard place and stand with people in such a hard time is the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit who propels us forward, who gives us the willingness, who gives us the ability, who gives us the right words, who protects us while we’re there. The Holy Spirit that helps us to do hard things.
This is just one example of hard things, and it’s one example of dehumanization, because here is the thing with dehumanization: it may start with one group, but it continues to spread. It moves along, and it grows, more and more people will be treated inhumanely and without dignity. But, all along the way, there will be people who hear the sound of the spirit’s voice, who feel the hope that God has put within them, who know that Jesus is leading them to something different. There will be people who go forward propelled by the power of the Spirit to love God’s people, especially those who have been dehumanized.
Now go and do what you’re called to do.

Read more from the Diocese. Read here.
From prayer to advocacy to feeding the hungry, Bishop Hughes reminds us that perseverance is more than surviving hard times – it’s trusting God’s ongoing work through us to bring hope and transformation.
Read the transcript.

This is Bishop Hughes in the Diocese of Newark. I started talking in my last post about gifts that people of faith and the faith community share with the rest of the world. At this time of year, we are starting to think about gifts. We’re making our list and figuring out how much we’re spending and when it needs to be purchased so it can get to where it needs to arrive. We’re thinking about what we’ll be doing with our time. We’re thinking about others, people that we know and that matter in our lives, and one of the gifts that we bring as people of faith and faith community, I talked about last, time was unity.
Today, I want to talk about perseverance. That perseverance is something that we learn as people of faith. We learn it through simple things – that sometimes, when you read a hard passage of the Bible, you don’t just walk away from it and toss it and say, “I’m never going to understand it” – we dig into it. We study more about it. We learn what the original words were and the language they were written in. We learn about the people that they were written for, and when we learn more about it and when we sit with it day by day, sometimes those passages that seem incredibly hard yield something that is very important for us to know and that we grow with, because we have that knowledge.
We know that we have perseverance when we pray for things, that God answers prayers. And sometimes we pray for things once, and then we don’t think about them again, and we’re surprised by the answer. But sometimes we have to pray until something happens. We just keep on praying until something changes, whether the change is within us or for us. We keep praying until something happens. We call those PUSH prayers: Pray Until Something Happens.
So with these kinds of things, with study, with PUSH prayers, with long term relationships – we know sometimes we just have to keep working at it and work through if there’s trouble, if there’s been something hard or hurtful or that happens in a relationship that we’ve got to work at that. We’ve got to ask for forgiveness. We have to forgive other people. We have to persevere through whatever that trouble is, to get to the good, to the healing, to the transformation on the other side.
Every part of our faith teaches us something about perseverance. And I love in Paul’s letters to the Romans, where he talks about suffering or affliction when things go wrong, and he says, we actually boast about things going wrong, because we know that when things go wrong, we’re going to learn about perseverance, and perseverance yields hope, and hope is where we meet with God and where God turns us and that situation into something completely different. That perseverance is part of the process of being faithful.
Perseverance is something that we are already in the process of doing right now when it comes to people who are hungry. We know that with the ending of SNAP benefits that happened on November 1. I know, personally, I was hoping that there would be reprieve that came from the administration, especially after the judge’s direction to the administration, that has only happened partially, and who knows when that will actually happen. We haven’t been sitting around waiting. Our food pantries, which we have all over our diocese – many of our churches have pantries – our food pantries have been gearing up for weeks. They are ready for this moment. And they’re not just ready for this moment, they are ready to go the distance.
We’ve been there before. It was called COVID, where people lost their jobs – and remember in New Jersey, it took almost 18 months for some people to get their first unemployment check. For whatever reason that happened, we were ready for it. We have increased food as the number of people receiving in our pantries has increased. I have to tell you that in the five years that we experienced between the start of pandemic and when we officially slipped into that place that we call post-pandemic – in those five years, the food pantries in our diocese in general, at least doubled, and many tripled, the number of people that they serve. Some have even kind of grown exponentially, serving four or five times more than they served before. So our people have been at it. It’s called perseverance.
And it’s not simply that we provide this food. We also advocate. We talk to our governor, we talk to the offices that work with food pantries. We explain to them the kind of help that we’re providing, but the help that we also need to make sure that people are eating and not worried about receiving food. We also are caring for the people that are in line to receive food. We’re there to pray with them. We’re there to talk with them. We’re there to remember their name. We’re there to assure them that what happened to them, it could happen to anyone and they didn’t do anything wrong. When they lost their job, they were downsized, or they lost their benefits through something that was not their fault at all. This is perseverance.
And here’s the thing about perseverance, is it reminds you of how strong you are. How strong God made you in the first place. And it reminds you that God is always doing work through you and through other people, and that in all that we do, God gives hope – not just to us, but to the people that we serve.
So remember this, this energetic desire that we have to serve God’s people in this way, this is all about perseverance, which is a gift from God that leads only to more gifts. So as this unfolds and continues, know this: We know how to persevere.

Read more from the Diocese. Read here.

Bishop Hughes reflects on her time at a gathering hosted by the Iona Collaborative in the Diocese of Texas, where leaders are exploring how the Episcopal Church might share its gifts more generously. She invites us to see money, buildings, and all we have as gifts from God – meant not only for our own joy, but to bless our neighbors, our parishes, and the wider Church.​ Watch the video (time: 4:59) or read the transcript.
​
Video Transcript

This is Bishop Hughes in the Diocese of Newark. I should say from the Diocese of Newark, because this week I’m in the Diocese of Texas. I’m down at their camp, Camp Allen, is part of a conference being hosted by the Iona Collaborative. That’s the same group which we get the training that we’re putting our lay pastors and deacons through, Iona, so happy to be here, it’s something that they are hosting, because they certainly have given us quite a lot in terms of our training lay pastoral leaders and training people to be deacons. So it’s a way of us being able to give back to them.
And they’ve been wanting to gather people to think about the resources in the Episcopal Church, and how so many of those resources reside in a small area of the church. So the wealth of the church sits with the wealthiest organizations and congregations and dioceses of the church. And how do we consider the thought of sharing that with the parts of the church that don’t have the wealth, the organizations that don’t have the wealth, the dioceses that don’t have the wealth.
I can say I was glad to be invited because I want to support the Iona Collaborative because they have been such a big support of our diocese. I’m glad to be a part of the conversation, because I think it’s an important one that we need to have on all levels of the church, that the Episcopal Church needs to have that conversation, our diocese needs to have that conversation, our parishes need to have that conversation, and certainly as individuals and in our households, we need to have that conversation.
So I’m glad to be a part of it, but I have to say I’ve also been dreading it. And I’ve been dreading it, because I know how we are when it comes to money. We on some level, we all devolve to our youngest selves, and we look at our finances, we look at the money that we have, and we say, mine. This is mine. I worked for it. I put myself through college. I’m the one who stayed late, I’m the one who did the extra work, and I’m the one who climbed the corporate ladder. I’m the one who put my neck out there. I’m the one who my clients appreciate. I’m the one who fits a specific need in my business. This is mine. I earned it. It is mine. And parishes can have that same kind of point of view. This is mine. We ran the pledge campaign. Someone gave this to us. It is ours. A diocese can have that same point of view, that we have done this work with our parishes. This is ours. And the entirety of the Episcopal Church can say, we come from a nation where people are high earners and well taken care of, and this is ours.
And yet there is some part of us that knows that every single thing that we have, that the wisdom, the brains, the experience, the knowledge, the questioning that God has given us, that gave us the ability to get ourselves through college, get ourselves in the jobs, help us have the kind of lives that we have – that all of that came from God in the first place. So if it came from God in the first place, chances are God didn’t just give it to us, just so that we can be happy. Now God wants us to be happy, but God gave it to us saying, here, I’m giving you this, and I want you to take care of your neighbors. I want you to take care of those people you worship with. I want you to take care of your community. I want you to take care of that other church, you know, the ones where they can barely afford a priest once a month. I want you to help them out. I want you to be in ministry with them.
These are the conversations that need to happen all over the church. They need to happen everywhere. They need to happen in our parishes. They need to happen in our diocese. They need to happen in the Episcopal Church. They need to happen in our households. They need to happen inside, in our own interior, our souls need to hear us have those conversations with ourselves and with God.
Money is a gift. The buildings we’re in are a gift. These are all assets that are valuable and that are important to us, but they are gifts given to us by God, and God always gives gifts with an expectation that we are also going to give.
So as you move through life this summer and you enjoy the bounty that is summer, having the extra time, having the freshest vegetables and fruits. New Jersey, I love summer tomatoes! As we enjoy all these things all along the way, thank God for the gift, and then immediately give some of it away. Hand it to somebody else who needs that blessing.

Breaking Bread Together: St. John's Saturday Luncheon Social by Sandra Lee Schubert
This is the unedited version. The article was featured on the Diocese of Newark website and e-news. 

On the hill where Cornelia Street meets Cedar Street, behind St. John's Church, something wonderful happens every Saturday. The parish hall kitchen hums with activity as volunteers prepare lunch for their community. Today, it's the men's group from St. Peter's trading their usual spiral ham and potatoes for hamburgers and hot dogs with all the fixings.
Steve greets everyone by name, asking about family members who couldn't make it. Jerry serves the food with a smile. The mailman stops by during his lunch break, delivering St. John's mail before joining the meal. For one precious hour, the parish hall buzzes with conversation, laughter, and the simple joy of sharing a meal. St. Peter’s has been a part of the program for over 20 years. The Men’s group and the Women’s group are active supporters of the luncheon. Steve loves the interaction with the men who are bagging bread donated by Anthony’s Bakery, cooking food, and setting up the hall for lunch. He enjoys the interaction with the guests who come through the red door and be seen chatting up people or eating lunch with the guests.
This is exactly what the Saturday Luncheon Social was created for: food, fellowship, and genuine human connection, served every Saturday from noon to 1 p.m.

​A Legacy of Service
The Saturday Luncheon Social began around 2000 under the leadership of Rev. Stephanie Wethered, St. John's first female rector. During her tenure, The Episcopal Diocese of Newark named St. John's "Church of the Year" in recognition of their community support work. Rev. Wethered's vision extended beyond Sunday worship, establishing the Community Development Corp. (CDC), an after-school program for low-income families, and the Saturday Luncheon Social—opening both kitchen and hearts to the wider community.
Originally served by a women's group, the luncheon has evolved into a collaborative effort hosted by local church groups of different denominations. Each group brings its unique flavor of food and hospitality to the table. Natalie, a deacon from the First Presbyterian Church of Boonton, says they enjoy making delicious meals for people. “It's our mission to serve the community.” We love the cast of characters who walk through the doors.”
Helen, from Mt. Zion Baptist church, loves the camaraderie the luncheon offers. People can arrive sad, but will leave with a smile on their faces. “I love cooking and serving food. I especially enjoy being called “Aunt Helen” by the people enjoying the food.  

The Regulars and the Newcomers
Twenty-five years later (with only the pandemic shutdown interrupting service), familiar faces gather around the tables. There are people who have been coming for years—families and friends who live down the block or travel from surrounding areas to be part of this weekly tradition. One guest started coming by bringing a friend from a nursing home and was amazed that he was applauded entering the hall. Years later, he still comes. Joe says, “it is the highlight of the week and has become dear to my heart.”
Agnes shares a similar story. Her dad would bring his friend Joe shopping, banking and to the luncheon. She would bring him on the days her dads couldn’t make it. Years later when her dad became sick it became her refuge and support. And on occasion there are four generations of families at one meal.
Of all the guests we spoke to offered similar tales. They love the atmosphere of homeyness and fellowship that they find here. For an hour, they relax, meet with family and friends, and enjoy a good meal. If they came in lonely, they eventually found friends.
The original vision remains unchanged: providing a social gathering where people can meet over a good meal. But execution has beautifully evolved. St. Peter's men's group might serve their beloved ham and potatoes one week, while their women's group offers splendid chicken parmigiana the next. The Presbyterian church down the block delights in variety, bringing something different each time they host. Mt. Zion’s Baptist church delights in cooking and serving good food, while St. John’s loves their opportunities to serve. All the churches have served for over 10 years or more. The Boonton United Methodist church is the newest participant, serving just two years with will bless the hall with the small daughter of the Pastor.
What matters most is that everyone leaves well-fed, often with extra food for later or a meal for a family member who couldn't make it.

Challenges and Hope
Before the pandemic, the luncheon regularly served a minimum of 25 people. Now, attendance fluctuates—sometimes as few as five people join for lunch. This presents a challenge for groups who have invested time, effort, and money into preparing meals. They would gladly feed more, but they continue showing up faithfully, ensuring leftovers find their way to those who need them.
St. John's has reached out through conversations and social media, hoping to connect with more community members who might benefit from or enjoy this weekly gathering.
Behind the scenes, St. John's works to maintain the space, keep the kitchen updated, and provide the supplies needed for each luncheon—plates, bowls, napkins, and cutlery. Many items are donated by parishioners, local residents, and the hosting groups themselves, creating a true community effort.

An Open Table
The Saturday Luncheon Social is open to everyone. You don't have to be hungry—you might just want a place to eat with a few people on a Saturday afternoon. The table is set, the welcome is genuine, and the conversation flows as freely as the coffee.
Join us any Saturday from noon to 1 p.m. And if you're part of a group that would like to provide a meal, new volunteer groups are always welcome. After all, there's always room for one more at the table.

Read more from the Diocese. Read here. 

Bishop Hughes speaks candidly about a challenge many of us face but rarely name: fear. Whether it's fear of speaking up, taking action, or even praying, she reminds us that fear doesn't disqualify us from God's call – it’s often part of the journey – and she encourages us to “do it anyway... and do it afraid.” (Time: 5:49 | Read the transcript.)
​
Video Transcript
This is Bishop Hughes in the Diocese of Newark, and I want to talk with you about fear, which is something I’ve been hearing quite a lot about from people around the diocese and around the community. I’ve been hearing it in general for a while these days, and it’s the fear that keeps people from doing the thing that they feel that God is calling them to do. Most often, where I hear it is people say, “I’m afraid to say anything, because if I say something, it’s going to upset the situation I’m in. It’s going to upset the relationships that I’m in. I’m afraid to do anything. I don’t want to do anything that causes some kind of harm or that makes it worse. I’m afraid to be in a situation where I might get into trouble myself.”
“I’m afraid” – someone has said to me, more than one person has said to me – “I’m afraid to even pray at this point, because I don’t know that I am a very good prayer. I don’t know that I have the right words to say. Maybe other people who are stronger at praying should be the ones doing the praying at this point.”
Every time someone has talked to me about their fear, what they have really been saying to me is, “I feel called by God to do something, but I’m so nervous that I’ve talked myself out of doing it.”
I was thinking about this, and this weekend, it suddenly came to me. I remembered a sermon that I heard at my own first ordination, when I was ordained to the transitional diaconate before becoming a priest. It was the Reverend Teddy Brooks who preached, she is a priest in the Diocese of New York. She was a priest there then, and she still is today. And she preached about fear, and she was specifically talking to us as newly ordained people and saying, “It is going to be normal that you will be afraid. You’re going to be afraid you’re making a mistake, you’re going to be afraid of taking a risk, you’re going to be afraid of your own shadow half the time because you’re afraid you’re going to do it wrong. It’s normal to be afraid when you’re doing something new. It’s normal to be afraid when you’re taking a risk. And the way God is able to do something is you go with your fear and with God, and you do it anyway. You do it afraid.”
I remember those words, and from time to time, they come back to me. “You do it anyway, and you do it afraid.” They’ve stayed with me. And I was thinking this weekend when I remembered that you can go all through scripture and see these stories. I’ll just share two with you, Moses and Mary. Moses, face to face with God, and God says directly to Moses, “Go back to Egypt and save my people.” And Moses is afraid, and he doesn’t want to go, but he goes anyway. He does it afraid. He does it anyway, and God is able to do this wonderful work of freeing people who had been held captive. I think about Mary, the mother of Jesus, being told by the angel that she is going to bring the Savior of the world into being, and she sits there, not understanding, wondering, afraid, how can this be happening to me? And she does it anyway. She does it afraid.
In my own life, I’m so grateful to the Sisters of Saint Mary of Namur, who moved to Texas when I was a little girl, specifically to start an integrated school. Not a school for black children or Mexican children or white children, but a school for all children. It was the first. Schools were not integrated, they were segregated in Fort Worth at that time. And that is where I learned how to read and where I learned how to study. And I think about those sisters being the first to do something like that. I imagine that they were afraid, and they did it anyway. They did it afraid.
Dear ones, you have got to know that this is our time. This is our time where God is calling us into things that are going to feel really bold and are going to require courage and going to require bravery. But you have got to know that if God is calling you to speak up for someone else’s justice and for their right care in the world, if you do it anyway, and do it afraid even, God will do something with it. When you stand with someone as their friend, protecting them and making sure that they have their rights observed and that they have adequate legal representation, you may be afraid, but when you do it anyway, and when you do it afraid, God will be in it with you.
And most certainly whatever words you offer in prayer, even if you are absolutely clear with all your heart that you are inadequate, that you don’t have the right words to pray, that whatever words you utter in prayer when you do it anyway and when you do it afraid – especially when you do it afraid – God is there and is listening and is acting upon your prayer.
This is the time we live in, a time where we’re going to step into those, as we say in this diocese, those bold acts of justice and faith and love. We may be afraid, but we’re going to do it anyway.