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The Tent is Up.

This is one of my favorite times of the year. I remember as I child the cool air coming in would fill me with adrenaline and excitement, for the upcoming soccer and football games and practices that would begin to dominant my life. The freedom of summer was beginning to drag on too much, and as much as I resisted it, the structure and growth that came with the school year was always a welcome change. This morning when I let the dogs out my lungs were filled with cool air, and it reminded me of those first months back to school as a child, and energy coursed through my spirit. Instead of my preparing for football practices and readjusting to doing homework again, my brain went to all of the wonderful things at St. Luke’s and all of the work that will go into them. The tent has gone up in the grove and it will stay up until at least Halloween, which is a sign that things will be happening here for quite some time, and they all seem to begin with this Sunday, which is when we Kick Off our year!

Tedious, Fraught but Honest

Friends,

One of the things that has surprised me the most in my ministry thus far is how much I have grown to truly appreciate the institution of the Episcopal Church. And I want to be clear, by institution, I mean all of the bureaucracy, paperwork, committee structures, finances, conventions with too many speakers and resolutions, strategic plans, and stewardship campaigns and all of the other stuff that people often do not like about Church. Jesus didn’t talk about these things, and as an overly naive and idealistic seminarian, I thought I could go through ministry without having to sully my spirit with the slippery slope of the sin that is fundraising, trying to increase budgets and building an endowment.

Dumb Luck vs Grace

I had a moment that felt like it was out of some sort of moralistic religious movie on Monday. As I was pulling into the Church parking lot around 1:00 pm with my carry out lunch in hand, I was met by a very frail elderly African American man pushing a walker. He explained to me that he is homeless, a cancer patient and was in need of help. This was the perfect setting for me to receive some sort of perspective shifting lesson that both renewed my faith in God and humanity, while renewing my call to serve those in most need. All of those things are good, and honestly, it was certainly where I thought the afternoon was heading when I met my new friend, but the interaction showed something messier, more human, but no less faith filled.

VBS at St. Luke’s

A few months ago, we were pulling out all sorts of neat things from the cabinets in the library. Cabinets, nooks, and other discrete storage places in Churches often become repositories for meaningful things that don’t otherwise have a home. Idle cabinets in Church must be fiercely protected and managed, because eventually someone will come across something special that is at least tangentially related to our Church at home or from somewhere else on our campus, and they won’t have a place to put it. Not wanting to throw it away, these well-meaning people stuff these treasurers into underutilized spaces with the hopes they will one day find someone that can see their value.

Grief is Weird

You have probably met at least one of my dogs. Vanilla Bean is the oldest, and probably the most visible. She is incredible with children, and if I am going to take a dog to Church on Sunday, it is going to be her. Peanut is a different sort of pup, and prefers the company of residents at Paul Springs or similar places. She is not great at walking, but does it enthusiastically and loves to lean against anyone that will love on her. Garbanzo was our surprise dog. In September of 2018 our dear friend found her abandoned on the Smith River, and called me to help retrieve her on my paddle board. When we arrived, we found her sitting on the lap of our friend going down the river like it was the most natural thing to do.

I’m not telling you the name of the lake

It has been a very long time since I have taken a planned Sunday off. Now, there have been a couple of Sundays I was not at St. Luke’s, but I was still preaching, like at our vestry and parish retreats at Shrine Mont. This also does not mean that I haven’t taken vacations. I was just on vacation a couple of weeks ago, but worked things out so I didn’t have to miss a Sunday. I am not saying this to sounds like a poor, suffering, and over-worked priest. On the contrary, this week I keep finding my mind wandering to the lectionary to see what the lessons are for this Sunday and next, and then I realize that I won’t be preaching the next TWO Sundays!!! Your former associate priest, Rev. Grace Pratt will be filling in for me both Sundays at all three services, and honestly, I am jealous because she has a great narrative arch in the Gospels about Jesus constantly trying to take a break, but people keep pestering him, so he performs miracles. If you are Jesus, then it is truly hard to take a break, but like most everyone else, I just sometimes convince myself I am that important. This Saturday, my entire family will be flying to Northwest Georgia to go to my favorite place in the world, which is a little-known lake in the middle of the nowhere and surrounded by mountains, and I am currently thinking of little else.

Saying Goodbye at Hello

Summer is a weird time, especially for kids. When I was young the rhythm of school always felt so permanent. I knew who I sat next to during school, what friend I got to eat lunch with, and who my crew was during recess. Summer felt like I was drinking fun and freedom from a fire hose, and then school would start back up again, but it always felt so foreign in the beginning. You had to get used to a new teacher, classroom with a different desk layout, and new classmates that you would bond with, or sometimes learn to avoid. One of the things that bothered me is when people seemed to disappear. It’s a thing that families like - to move in the summer so they avoid disrupting a school year. This makes perfect sense, but it was disorienting from my perspective because some of my more casual friends would just sort of not be there from the previous year. I wasn’t close enough to be invited to the going away party, but I was close enough to miss their presence.

St. Luke’s is Powered by the Son and the Sun

Friends,

I am very pleased to announce that soon you will see new solar panels on the roof of St. Luke’s! This is probably a surprise for most. I find the story about how this came about to be quite compelling. I imagine you might have quite a few questions about this, and I thought I would try to address a few of them.

Nick's Technology Assisted Message

In robes of white, amidst the sunlit sands,

Where waves caress and whispers meet the land,

A priest sits, pen in hand, his heart aglow,

To write of faith where gentle waters flow.

Using ChatGPT, his guide in verse and prose,

From AI's wisdom, inspiration flows,

Each algorithmic whisper, like a prayer,

Crafting messages of love and care.

Beneath the azure sky, his thoughts take flight,

In tandem with the AI's guiding light,

He crafts his words with knowledge vast and deep,

From pixels born, his flock's devotion keep.

For though he's far from his beloved church,

His soul connects through AI's helpful search,

Each line composed, a blend of human grace,

And technology's embrace in sacred space.

With seagulls' cries as chorus to his verse,

He pens the teachings that will disperse,

Across the digital expanse, their reach,

A priestly mission aided by AI's speech.

From sunlit shore, his sermon finds its way,

With ChatGPT's assistance day by day,

His congregation touched by wisdom's gleam,

From the beach, where faith and pixels stream.

In every line, the ocean's endless song,

Echoes of belief both firm and strong,

A priest, AI, and beachside reverie,

Uniting hearts in faith and harmony.

Authentically written messages from Father Nick will resume next week :)

Strategically Planning for Faith

Paul Johnson was the head of St. Luke’s search committee when I was called to be your priest, and he said something to me after I was officially called that has always stuck with me. He said, “Your strengths are our weakness, and our strengths are your weakness.” With the point being, that we would complement each other well. I don’t remember telling the committee that organization, following protocols, and all that stuff wasn’t my strong suit, but apparently, they picked up on it fairly quickly!

Well done good and faithful Carol

We should all be beyond thankful for Carol Bloom’s ministry to St. Luke’s over the course of the last couple decades (27 years I think). Her ministry, with just a couple of minor interruptions, has been a consistent and faithful presence at St. Luke’s. For more than a quarter of the history of our parish, Carol has been in the sacristy, getting the chalices, patens, wine, bread, water vessels, fine linens, candles, flowers, vases, and hangings ready for worship. We are a liturgical Church, and part of our identity is the centrality of the sacraments. The sermons are short, because we believe it is just the opening act. People gather not to listen to me, but to break bread together in the belief that Christ dwells with us in that moment. Because of this emphasis on the sacraments, the role of the altar guild is quite important. We could celebrate the Holy Eucharist on a plain table, but we are compelled to make it beautiful so it reflects the miraculous grace surging from it during worship, and the members of the altar guild are the stewards of this beauty.

To Our Graduating Seniors: Don’t Mess Up

It is that time of year again when we recognize our graduating seniors. We pray and give thanks for all of those who are graduating from high school, college or graduate school, and for those who may or may not be directly part of our community. Personally, I am intensely proud of my cousin Joe who graduated from Law School. The world is a better place with him in it, regardless of what his politics may be (Joe, I’m kidding…mostly). I am also in awe of Edward Wallingford who is enlisting into the Marine Corps. Edward may not be a member of St. Luke’s, but he is part of our family, and I am thankful for his courage and character, and he will especially be in my prayers. Other seniors, such as Blake Brantley, have led Eagle Scout projects through our Church, helped run the pumpkin patch and taken part in our youth programs. The fabric of our Church is shifting after this cycle of graduations, and we should pay attention.

Friends,

I love being excited for other people. Meeting a new person who is deep into something I know little about and hearing about it through their perspective fills me with joy. In our congregation it is easy to get excited about what people do, because we have a lot of interesting people. The amount of “space people” in our congregation is staggering, and I cannot help but feel awe when they talk about missions to Saturn’s moons and whatnot. This enthusiasm is not limited to people with dramatic careers. I still do not fully understand what Paul Johnson does for a living, and I doubt I ever will, but I know enough to know that it is everything to do with things I am terrible at, like spreadsheets, budgets and financial trends. If someone told me what Paul does, I would be desperately bored, but when Paul talks about it, it is as if some veil is being lifted and all of a sudden, I get why people like Paul do what they do, and my world gets a little bit bigger.

Jeez-its

There a million big and little things I would like to try while I am with you, and sometimes, my mental to-do list is overwhelming. Focusing on my priorities rather than following every little idea and thread I come upon has been a big learning in my ministry these past ten years. One thing that I feel strongly about, but remains fairly low on my priority list is communion wafers.

Friends,

I write this just a hour before I must submit it to Stephanie to include in this week’s e-news, so this is going to be pretty succinct. Normally on Thursday morning, I lock my doors and try to think of something meaningful to write you, and this Thursday was a particularly big day. It was our Day School’s Commencement ceremony, and for my family it was particularly big because it was our son’s last day in pre-Kindergarten. As we were putting on his seersucker suit for graduation the stomach bug hit our family like a ton of bricks, and much work simply had to go on the sidelines.

I thought I would take this abbreviated time to highlight a few big things coming up:

On Being Human on the First Saturday of May

When I was a kid, I do not remember any of my peers asking it, but adults kept trying to give us the answer to the question, “What makes us human?” Many religious folks would say that our souls are the single factor separating us from animals, but what exactly does having a soul mean? What evidence of the soul can we gather? Incidentally, this what my secular education seems to have been trying to answer. The first answer I remember receiving to this question is that it is our big brains that make us human. This makes sense from the religious and secular perspective. It is our big frontal lobes that gives us personality, empathy and all sorts of fun stuff that looks and feels like a soul. The problem with this answer is that we don’t have the biggest or most complex brains. Dolphins and other mammals have highly developed brains that outpace us in several metrics. The teachers would often point this out as if it were an interesting bit of trivia, but I always thought it completely undermined their initial goal. That can’t be what makes us human or gives us a soul. Maybe, Dolphins have bigger souls than us? Child-Nick was perplexed.

Clergy and Manure

I write to you as I have recently returned from a three-day clergy retreat at Shrine Mont, and I have confusing good news to offer you. Clergy are obnoxious. I’ll get to why this is good news later, but first let me explain to you why people like me are and will likely always be obnoxious when we gather.

Who is our neighbor?

If you live close to St. Luke’s, you probably consider yourself to be part of our very close knit and small community. My wife grew up in this neighborhood, and I visited the Fort Hunt area plenty of times before moving here, but I did not really get how close knit this place is until I lived here for a couple of years. After we got settled in our new home in 2021, I saw the Kaye family on their golf cart, I knew I had to get one for myself. Two years ago, I managed to find a used one that a retired drag race car driver was selling, and have enjoyed riding it around ever since. If you didn’t know, in Virginia you can drive a golf cart on roads that have a speed limit of twenty-five miles per hour or slower, and you can cross busier streets as long as there is a traffic light. Anyways, getting the golf cart was a game changer for me and my family. I got to know all of the back streets and crossing to get pretty much anywhere I need to go on my silly, windowless, approachable golf cart. I can get to church, school, the grocery store and our community pool all while putzing about and chatting with people along the way. It simultaneously made me more familiar with my immediate community, while reinforcing the bubble that exists in our safe and often extremely privileged neighborhood.

The Reverend Doctor Cory Irwin Knows How to Vacuum

You all know that during worship I just don’t sit in quiet prayer when I’m not doing stuff, right? Don’t get me wrong, I do that too, but I also spend a lot of time noticing who is in the pews, going over names, and seeing who is new. Back in February, I noticed someone who looked like the epitome of a seminarian trying to not look like a seminarian. He wore casual clothes, but used all of the correct books, sang enthusiastically, and clearly knew when to stand, sit, kneel, bow and cross himself. I was not surprised when I got an e-mail from him a few days later saying that he is indeed a senior at Virginia Theological Seminary and was looking for a spot to volunteer until his graduation in May.

Lead with Love

Last decade I was a new clergy person, and I thought I knew a lot about Church, Christianity and stuff, and I was determined to remain jaded when it came to the business end of Church. Me and many of my peers that were required to go to monthly new-clergy classes at the Diocese of Atlanta were extremely dismayed to find our required text as something widely embraced by the business community. We felt comfortable with abstract theological ideas, biblical exegesis, and every esoteric bit of pretentious liturgical trivia, but we were down right disgruntled when we were given Ronald Heifetz’s book The Practice of Adaptive Leadership and told we’d be studying it for two years.