Shrine Mont weekend: A splendid time had by all!

Thanks to the many people who made our Shrine Mont weekend a smashing success! We had about 150 people, many who came for the first time. The weekend also marks my fourth anniversary as Rector of St. Paul's Memorial Church.

It was an energetic weekend with the Bishop's Music Festival and the 50th anniversary celebration of Shrine Mont as a camp. There were a lot of people, a lot of activities. Here are some photos Lori took from the weekend. Enjoy!

Relaxing on the second floor porch

On the 2nd floor porch at adult hour

Retired Senior Warden, left, gets overdue award from
current Senior Warden Christie Thomas on behalf of the Vestry

Marta, Cal, Stacy and Sue

Favorite activity of many at Shrine Mont

Pam Dennison and Jim Richardson after Pam
got her award. She was a good sport.

Which way should we go, Margaret?

Anyone for kickball?

Many legs make light work

Welcome again to the road of life and the springs of your baptism

Shrine Mont in autumn

My sermon today is based on the lectionary readings for All Saints Sunday: Revelation 7:9-17, and
Matthew 5:1-12 .

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All Saints Sunday

Nov. 6, 2011

A couple of weeks ago, I went to the annual fall retreat for clergy in the Diocese of Virginia. The retreat is held at Shrine Mont, the same place where we hold our annual parish retreat in the heat of July.

I can assure you that Shrine Mont in the autumn is a very different place than in the summer.

For those who are unfamiliar with Shrine Mont, it is a rustic 19th century camp about two-and-half hours northwest of here, nestled into the mountains a stone’s throw from West Virginia.

Clergy retreats are usually crammed with speakers, small groups, programs, bishop schmoozing, worship services, and they can feel more like the opening act of the annual Diocese Council than a retreat.

This year, Bishop Shannon decided to ease up, and we were given more free time than usual. That was a great gift.

Fire spotter tower at
Shrine Mont with
Cross on top

So I took the opportunity to walk by myself up an old fire road on a small mountain to an old tower where spotters once kept a sharp eye out for forest fires.

As those of you who are familiar with Shrine Mont know, atop the fire spotter tower is a large wooden cross, and this route is known as “The Way of the Cross.”

Along the fire road are the “stations” of the Cross, with signposts marking the events in the last hours of Jesus’ life as he carries his cross to Golgotha.

The signs say things like “Jesus carries his Cross,” “Jesus falls for the first time,” and “Veronica wipes the face of Jesus” – though that last one is not in the Bible, it is a legend that has found its way onto the “way of the Cross” worldwide.


The signs are meant to evoke reflections along the road. You are supposed to pause and meditate on the moment mentioned on the sign.

I have walked “the way of the Cross” in many places; in monasteries, retreat centers, and in a convent. Here at St. Paul’s, we post “stations of the cross” on the pillars around this nave during Holy Week.

First "station" of the Cross
at Shrine Mont

I’ve even walked the way of the cross on the streets of Jerusalem, where Jesus might actually have walked, or in reality, I walked about 20 feet above where he walked.

The ancient streets were buried long ago in earthquakes and invasions, and new streets have taken their place on top of the rubble.

But I have a confession to make: I’ve never been quite sure what I am supposed to get out of the “Way of the Cross.”

Why would I want to reenact Jesus being crucified? Why would I want to put myself on the same cross?
That is not a particularly inviting notion to me.

As I reached the top of the mountain at Shrine Mont, I climbed up the stairs to the top of the fire spotter tower – to the foot of the Cross – and I asked myself again, what am I supposed to get out of this?

I looked out from the tower, and the leaves were just beginning to turn golden and red. It was gorgeous here at the foot of the Cross looking out over the mountains.

I realized that having the cross on top of a fire spotter tower was symbolically perfect – the tower was built to help extinguish fires, and I could see the fiery colors of autumn in the trees.

The leaves will soon wither and die, and the bleakness of winter will soon be here. Spring will come, new life and Easter with it, but that is still far off – not yet – still beyond where I can see now.

It occurred to me then that the way of the Cross is not about me trying to repeat the events of Jesus’ last moments, but really the other way around.

The way of the cross is about Jesus walking on our road to the cross, especially in our moments of pain, our moments of hurt, our moments of doubt.

He walks this road with us to put an end to the way of the Cross.

Sometimes we talk of God being “up there” above us, talking to us from a magnificently powerful, yet detached perch in the clouds. That idea of God above pervades our culture, and it finds itself into our prayer book, as in those prayers that begin “Almighty God.”

But the way of the cross is about God in the person of Jesus Christ giving up the powerful perch, and being down on the road with us, walking on the same gravel path we walk, and carrying our burdens – our cross – on the road with us.

Listen with new ears to the teaching of Jesus today, in this familiar passage we ironically call “The Sermon on the Mount.”

Jesus tells his followers about nine blessings, beginning with “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

These are blessings not from up on the mount of “Almighty God,” but blessings down here on the road.

Who are the blessed? The poor in spirit. Those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted.

When are they blessed? Right now.

Where are they blessed? Here, on the road, in the trenches, in the muddiness of life.

They – you and I – are blessed especially when we are on that hard difficult road because God is walking with us, down here, not up there.

The phrase, “Blessed are you,” comes from the Hebrew word ’ashar, and it literally means, “You are on the right road.”

“You are on the right road when you are poor in spirit and can’t figure out how to pray…” 

“You are on the right road when you mourn and are lonely…” 

“You are on the right road when you are a peacemaker and your world is in upheaval…”

You are on the right road especially in those places; you are blessed on this road because God is dwelling in you and walking beside you.

Today is All Saints Day, and it is appropriate to remember that many before us have walked this same road, and not just symbolically, but in reality, enduring because their faith brought them to a place where they took a stand, and some died for it.

The road of the saints is the same road of our baptism, and the saints of old knew no more about where that road would lead them than we know where ours leads.

Today two children will enter into this epic story of baptism with all the saints. We will welcome them into this household of faith as we “remember Christ crucified,” and we will promise to hold in reserve many more sacraments, prayers and church potluck suppers for them as they grow up, as they embrace their faith on the same road with us.

As I came down off the mountain at Shine Mont, I heard the voices of others hiking up to the Cross. Some were laughing, and truthfully, I found their joy and laughter wonderful.

Sometimes we need to be reminded to laugh and sing, and enjoy this great gift of life. Our task is to end crucifixions, not repeat them.

We close today by hearing about the end of the way of the cross in an amazing – and, yes, strange – vision of an early Christian saint named “John.”

We don’t know much about him, we aren’t even sure if that is his real name. He is exiled on an island, persecuted, and outwardly he may seem as someone with not much to live for.

Yet this saint has a dream, and he writes about it a book we call “Revelation,” the last book of the Bible. John, whoever he is, shares his vision about the outbreak of blessings, and it goes like this:

“They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Welcome once again to the road of life, and the springs of your baptism. AMEN

Shrine Mont memories from Bishop Marc Andrus

Today I have another guest writer for you, the Right Rev. Marc Handley Andrus, the Bishop of the Diocese of California.

He is from Virginia and recently wrote about his serving as a chaplain for four summers at Shrine Mont. His article appeared in a recent newsletter of the Bishop's Ranch, the camp center for his diocese north of San Francisco.

If you haven't signed-up to join us for our parish retreat weekend at Shrine Mont July 15-17, you can do so on-line by clicking HERE. It is fast and easy, one click away. Can't you just see yourself in those rockers?

Bishop Marc's recollection of Shrine Mont is below:

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Camp Memories
From the Bishop of the Diocese of California
The Rt. Rev. Marc Handley Andrus

I’m writing not about the great, positive impact that camps made in my life, though they did, but rather about the effect I watched come to be with campers at a diocesan camp in Virginia when I was the summer chaplain over four summers.

Each cabin of campers was responsible for the daily camp worship on a rotation. During the full camp term I (and Sheila, when she wasn’t out saving the world, and our daughters) lived in an early 20th-Century cabin built by an Episcopal medical missionary. I invited each group of campers to come to the front porch of the little cabin, where they sat cross-legged all around, with their counselor, and we planned worship.

Planning worship went like this: I would ask the cabin group if they wanted to talk about an idea, a question, or if they’d rather start with a story from the Bible, and move from that place to the questions and ideas. Whichever path they chose, we would then dive into the conversation, for about an hour.

At the end of the hour, we looked back at the conversation, and picked out what seemed most important to us all. I would then suggest how they might begin to move from these central points to a worship service. When they all said cheery good-byes and scooted on to the next activity, it would be the last involvement I had in their worship planning or in the service itself.

At the worship service, I would typically sit in the back bench of the outdoor chapel at the camp. I was always impressed, wowed to see them address questions at the center of life, questions that would be with them as they grew up and lived their adult lives.

At the most obvious level, these campers learned how capable they were to plan and lead worship, worship that was beautiful, funny, thought provoking, moving. Below that, they learned that it was possible to talk about hard-to-talk-about ideas, in a Christian community. They learned that the Christian community represents Christ, the divine, present with them, in all our questions, our laughing and our tears, and, there at camp, in dirt and rain, and hot sun filtered through leafy trees.

Those campers are now in their late 20s and their 30s. Some of them have faced immense challenges, immeasurable loss and tragedy. It is my hope that the way God met them on that concrete-slab porch hanging on the front of an old cabin, or in the chapel, assured them that God would always meet them in their lives, wherever they found themselves. And, I hope that the cabin and the camp got imprinted in their hearts, the acorn-like model of the Christian community, and that they find that living presence wherever they go, whenever they need.

More photos from Shrine Mont

Here are a few more photos from our Shrine Mont weekend, taken by photographer-extraordinaire Dudley Rochester (see his photos earlier this week on the progress constructing the meditation garden).

The first photo shows Jane Rotch and the Duduza dolls she and several folks have been making for the children of Haiti. They've made dozens and dozens, and made many more during the Shrine Mont parish weekend.

The next shows Tony Potter (standing) and Simeon Fitch, gabbing on the front porch in the main building. They are no doubt trading insider secrets about techno-stuff.

Then we have John Frazee, who did hours-and-hours of techno-stuff at Shrine Mont, producing the really cool "baseball cards" of St. Paul's people. Look for the cards hanging in the Parish Hall this weekend.

Finally, at the bottom, we have a photo of Albrecht von Guadecker, our assistant music director and organist, and his wonderful wife Jane. Who knew that Albrecht could play the accordion?

Photos from Shrine Mont

Here are two photos from our Shrine Mont weekend, courtesy of Simeon Fitch. The first is the annual group photo taken at "The Shrine." Everyone appears to be pointing at a UFO.

The second shows the winners of the much-coveted "Miss Shrine Mont" contest, tied for getting the most answers correct in the trivia contest about St. Paul's. From left to right, Lori, Charles Lancaster, and Jay Scott. They each look suitably awed by this award.

The Monday Funnies

We've been away the last few days at Shine Mont in the western hills bordering Shenandoah Valley for our annual parish retreat. We had 131 campers of all ages, good sports all. The weather started hot, and then we had a big thunderstorm the first night and it cooled off. Sunday morning was sunny and cool.

Thanks to Cindy Cartwright and her team for putting on a great weekend. The eco-friendly green non-plastic cups made it another year, and we had lots of kids running everywhere. The food was plentiful (quite hearty and deep-fried Southern style).

Hopefully someone will send me some photos from the weekend that I can share here later in the week. My first-generation digital camera has about bit the dust so I took no pictures.

The only casualty of the weekend was me during the annual kickball game. I went skidding into home plate and managed to wrap my left shoulder around a white wooden pole that holds up a building.

The 19th century vintage structure did not collapse, and I broke no bones but I am rather sore. We had a many health care professionals in camp, and I was well attended to.

For us, this was our third Shrine Mont parish weekend. You may recall Lori and I introduced ourselves to the parish two summers ago at Shrine Mont, so I consider this weekend to be the start of our third year at St. Paul's.

For the Monday Funnies, I thought I'd share a few funny photos. The first was taken by Bonny Bronson on her way to Heather Warren's ordination in North Carolina. The second was provided by Dave Walker. His caption:

"Man protesting about heretics who stop on the entrance markings at school drop-off and pick-up times. Also the Church of Rome."

Apparently some folks took offense when Dave posted it on his blog. I thought it rather funny.

Enjoy you Monday!

Permission to laugh, permission to be alone

SHRINE MONT, Virginia -- I've been here at this retreat center the past few days for the annual fall clergy retreat for the Diocese of Virginia. This is the first clergy retreat for me in this diocese, and it is a bit daunting meeting so many new people from so many communities I've never heard of like Casanova and Rixeyville.

Getting here was a bit daunting. I rode with our new associate rector, Ann, and we hit a deer on the I-64, and had to double back to Charlottesville to get another car. We got here late and hungry and glad to be off the road at last.

Now that we are here, we've been treated to several wonderful and gentle talks by a pair of monks from Boston, Curtis Almquist and Geoffrey Tristram, both of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist. They've reminded us that this priestly profession of ours is not about achievement or mastering ministry skills, but about the "stewardship of God's mysteries." They also reminded us to replenish our own spiritual mysteries, to put prayer and families first, and the church third. We can never be reminded enough of that. They also told us that Pope John XXIII had a night prayer that went like this: "It's your church, Lord. I am going to bed."

So after a day of travel, encounters with deer, listening to monks, praying with a room full of priests, deacons and bishops, and vigorous hymn singing (a little too vigorous), I toddled off to my monkish chambers in an old cabin house across from the old Shrine Mont Hotel (in picture).

When I approached my cabin, I encountered a group of clergy sitting on the porch enjoying each others' company and a wee dram. They invited me to join them. Usually I would, but I was so rung out, so exhausted, I greeted them but told them I really needed to retire, and so I did.

As I readied for sleep, I could hear them laughing and laughing outside my door. Whatever they were saying, I could not hear. But they laughed and laughed and laughed, and truthfully, I enjoyed their laughter. I still don't know them as individuals, but I am certain they work very hard in their parishes, they encounter all of life's joys and tragedies, they probably say "I am sorry" to people more times in a week than most people do in a year. They deserve to laugh, and there are few places the clergy are given permission to cut loose and just laugh and laugh.

And there are also few places where the clergy are given permission to just be alone for awhile. Both can happen right here, only a few feet from each other. Their laughter put me to sleep.

"It's your church, Lord. I am going to bed."

Shrine Mont weekend: Photos and more

We've returned from our parish retreat weekend at Shrine Mont, the diocesan center in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley. We had about 130 folks, and there was much doing! 

The kids had a fishing derby and lots of games. Here are a number of photos from the weekend.

We had bird watcher hikes, nature walks, and one group took a big hike up a mountain. In the evening we had dancing and a bonfire. 

Lori gave a talk on cooking tips and demonstrated her favorite cooking gadgets; I did a workshop on parables. And in between, best of all, we both enjoyed visiting with folks, sitting on the porch rockers and chatting.

This morning we celebrated our Eucharist in the open air "shrine" that gives Shrine Mont its name. Shrine Mont hold the bishop's chair, or cathedra, making it the cathedral for the Diocese of Virginia. As Bishop Peter Lee is fond of pointing out, he has the highest ceiling of any cathedral in the world.

Before leaving today, a number of us walked the labyrinth, a recent addition to Shrine Mont thanks to Betsy Poist and a group of volunteers. 

The labyrinth is marked by stones, and the ground is rough earth. Walking the labyrinth I was sharply aware of how footsteps have shaped the walk in the muddy earth.

Monday we will get back to developments at General Convention, and we will be in Anaheim Tuesday for the remainder of convention. There is plenty of time to catch up on that the rest of the week.