Charles Hawkins

Has anyone asked you this year:  “What have you given up for Lent?” As a sign of sacrifice and self-discipline, Christians often will “fast” (abstain) from something during the season of Lent.  We do so partly to imitate Jesus when he went into the desert to pray and fast for 40 days.  We read the story of Jesus going into the desert and being tempted by Satan on the first Sunday of Lent.  Inspired by the example of Jesus, some Christians therefore, fast for the 40 days of Lent. As you know, season of Lent begins on Ash Wednesday (better known to some as the day after Mardi Gras), and lasts 40 days (not counting Sundays, which are always feast days).   Fasting during Lent is not required of Episcopalians, though many do observe the season by fasting (giving something up for Lent).  Strictly speaking there are only two “fasts” on the Episcopal church calendar:  Ash Wednesday, and Good Friday. But, for our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters in Christ, a...

“Be reconciled to God.” That is not advice.  It is not a religious suggestion.  It is a plea—almost a cry.  Paul does not say,  “When you feel ready…  when your life settles down…  when you get your act together.”  He says, “Be reconciled.”  Now. Because this is the strange thing about grace:  it does not wait for us to become safe.  Grace comes looking for us  while we are still complicated. And if you have ever needed reconciliation,  you know it is not a pretty word.  Reconciliation means something was torn.  It means there was distance.  It means someone had to cross the distance. Paul says God has crossed it. “For our sake,  God made him to be sin who knew no sin,  so that in him we might become  the righteousness of God.” That line is not meant to be a puzzle for theologians only.  It is meant to land in the gut. Not: “Jesus became a sinner.” But: Jesus stepped into the full weight of wh...

There are moments in life when the warning sirens sound. A storm is coming. A fire is spreading. A crisis looms. And when the siren wails, everything else stops. You don’t keep going about your day as if nothing has changed. You pay attention. You listen. You prepare. Imagine a fire alarm screaming in the middle of the night. One moment, sleep held us in its quiet grip; the next, we were jolted awake, disoriented, the acrid smell of smoke in the air. In an instant, everything changed. No time to think—just the rush to get out, to make sure everyone was safe. The crackling heat, the frantic search for a way through. And at that moment, nothing else mattered—none of the worries of yesterday, none of the plans for tomorrow. Just the fire, the urgency, and the desperate hope that we had prepared in time. The prophet Joel begins with such a warning. Imagine yourself now in Jerusalem, walking through the city just as dawn is breaking. The early morning air is cool, the streets quiet. Merchan...

 Prayers of the People Let us pray for the Church and for the world. Gracious God, on the holy mountain you spoke your word and revealed your glory. Give your Church ears to hear and hearts to obey, that we may listen to your Son and follow him in the way of the cross and resurrection. In the name of Christ, hear our prayer. Unite your people in the truth of your Scriptures: a lamp in a dark place until the day dawns. Guard us from “private” faith that answers only to itself; form us by your Spirit into a community of humble, patient, and faithful interpretation. In the name of Christ, hear our prayer. We pray for the leaders of the nations and for all who exercise authority. Where rulers rage and plots multiply, teach the powerful wisdom and restraint; establish justice, protect the vulnerable, and turn hearts from violence and pride toward mercy and the common good. In the name of Christ, hear our prayer. We pray for all who are waiting—those in long uncertainty, those who keep v...

  Psalm 84 gives us a vocabulary for faith that is often neglected in theological training: desire . Not duty. Not mastery. Not even conviction. Desire. “My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.” The psalmist does not separate interior faith from bodily life. Heart and flesh move together. Longing is not an embarrassment to be disciplined away; it is the very engine of pilgrimage. Faith here begins not with certainty but with ache—with a pull toward the presence of God that the psalmist knows is life-giving. That matters for seminarians, who are often trained to inhabit ideas about God more fluently than spaces where God is encountered. Psalm 84 refuses such disembodiment. God is not approached only through thought but through movement, practice, and shared ritual. The psalm imagines faith as a journey taken with others toward a real place, shaped by real rhythms—walking, resting, praying, singing. Even the ...

Service for New Year's Eve   This liturgy, drawn from The Book of Occasional Services, invites us into a sacred pause between the closing of one year and the opening of the next.   This service is structured as a vigil — a watchful, prayerful time to reflect on the past, seek renewal, and consecrate the year to come. Through Scripture, song, silence, and prayer, we seek God’s presence and guidance.   All are welcome. We hope this time deepens your trust in the One who is Alpha and Omega — the beginning and the end.   ***** A Walk Through the Liturgy   Service of Light The service begins in a darkened church with the Service of Light (from An Order for Worship in the Evening, BCP p. 109). We light candles, symbolizing Christ as the Light in the darkness of time and history. We sing the ancient hymn Phos Hilaron (“O Gracious Light”).   Readings and Psalms A series of readings — drawn from Scripture — reflect on the themes of time, seasons, God’s providence, a...