How my life changed forever, My Baptism (by Gina Dennis)

How my spiritual journey led me to Baptism:

Thank you all for your prayers and your support as I go through this journey of commitments that I wholly embraced on Sunday, January 10, 2016, when I was brought into the Baptismal Covenant.

At the end of the year 2015, I met a very courageous, amazing woman named Sylvia Miller-Mutia. She encouraged me and introduced me to my now beloved Church: St. Thomas Canterbury Episcopal Church. I am so blessed that God introduced me to Sylvia and the wonderful Canterbury Community.

During 2015, I also met a woman who changed my life forever: Sally Barlow. Sally is, by far, one of the strongest individuals that I have ever met in my entire 37 years of life. She is a brilliant, beautiful, humble, and incredible person who reached out to me with amazing grace. Sally encouraged me and led me to see who I really am. I prayed my entire life that I would meet someone just like Sally. I am so blessed to have her in my life forever as my Baptism Sponsor.

What Baptism means to me:

As an Adult, my Baptism means the following to me:

*It is my duty to uphold the promises that I made.

*It is also my responsibility to always pray for and protect Sally, my Baptism Sponsor, during her life journey as well. 

*I am now empowered to feel God’s presence all around me and to feel God’s presence within every human and every being.

*I have a Green Mission to protect our Earth, our World. I will do all that I can through my work, my community, and my personal life to ensure that I protect this blessed Earth.

*I will spend the rest of my life striving for justice and for peace in our community, in our country, and in our World.

Thank You

Thank you Fritz and Don for the valuable education during the Church Catechism classes.

Thank you all, and blessings to all of you. 

A New Parent's Reflections on Baptism (by Dan Bolinteanu)

Our son Gabriel James was baptized at Canterbury on July 12th of last year, when he was just over 5 months old. As he wasn't quite able to respond to the baptismal covenant questions (apart from some minor complaints about water on his face), we made the requisite promises ourselves:
 

Will you be responsible for seeing that the child you present is brought up in the Christian faith and life? We will, with God's help.

 
Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ? We will, with God's help.

Among all the joys and tribulations of being new parents, it's tempting to let these promises occasionally slip out of mind. Growing into the full stature of Christ can easily become overshadowed by the daily (rather, hourly) necessities for growing one's child into a plump, healthy, happy creature. Keeping a baby fed, clothed, diapered, well-rested and mostly happy for almost a year has at times seemed like all we could possibly handle. How can we really be expected to provide a spiritual education, when something as simple as finding time to cook a meal or fold laundry has been a challenge at times? How does one model a good Christian life when the highest goal seems to be a few extra minutes of sleep? As it turns out, the answers are right in the baptismal promises: with God's help.

As much as we tried to prepare ourselves and thought we humbly heeded warnings from more seasoned parents, we were still shell-shocked by just how much work a baby can be, and to what an extent he dominates his parents' existence. Many aspects of our lives that previously seemed important - careers, social lives, hobbies, health, even personal hygiene - quickly faded to the background when our son was born. However, our spiritual lives experienced a sudden and continuing renewal, from his birth (7 weeks earlier than we expected!), to the subsequent month-long hospital stay, to his exhausting-but-wonderful homecoming, his baptism, and his transition to an easy-going, night-sleeping (thank God!), happily-traveling almost-toddler. Throughout all of this, we have found a renewed sense of gratefulness and joy for our son and for God's help, as well as a sense of tremendous purpose and responsibility. As challenging as the usual pragmatic parental responsibilities can be, the responsibilities demanded by the baptismal promises - the moral and spiritual upbringing of a person - seem far more daunting and far more important. And unlike pragmatic responsibilities, there is no adequate, comfortable level of achievement at which one can rest; the goal is nothing less than growing 'into the full stature of Christ'. For this, we will definitely need a great deal of God's help! And a big part of that help for us has already been finding the wonderful community at Canterbury, where we have truly felt like we've gained an extended family, for Gabriel as well as for ourselves. While our experience is limited to a parenting context, we would venture that the same elements of renewal, responsibility and community are part of baptism in all its forms.

How I joined the Episcopal Church (by Fritz Frurip)

 When I left the sleepy, northern Indiana farm town where I grew up a Presbyterian, I was more than ready to go off to college in Kalamazoo, Michigan.

A favorite topic of conversation with my high school friends in 1959 was “When can we get out of here?  We couldn’t wait.  

 In 1959 Dwight Eisenhower was President and Richard Nixon was his VP; 
Alaska and Hawaii were admitted to the union as the 49^th and 50^th states;
The country was deep in the Cold War with Russia;
and NASA had just selected seven military pilots to be the first Astronauts.

 I was excited about living in a real city, and the first time I walked down the hall in my dorm, I was brought up short by what I saw.

The phone booths contained dial phones -- DIAL PHONES!   Of course, everybody knew about dial phones from television and movies.  But back in our little town, we still had phones with operators.

  You picked up the receiver and a woman said “Number, Please!”   You told her the number you wanted (our home number was 1-2-M), she plugged a jack into one of the holes in a bank of holes, and it started ringing on the other end.  WOW!  I was finally in a big city with dial phones.

 But, I digress, as Kurt Vonnegut used to say.

 I finished college with a Drama and English major, and started teaching English in the local Kalamazoo Public Schools

 I had gone to the First Presbyterian Church downtown a few times, but realized even big city Presbyterianism wasn’t the flavor I wanted.

 One day my friend Del said an old pal of his from college had finished seminary, gotten married, and was now a priest at downtown St. Luke’s Episcopal Church.  Did I want to go on Sunday?

 We went, and I was absolutely impressed. This church had everything I could ask for and more -- color, music, ritual, chanting, a tower bell that rang when the priest genuflected -- I was hooked. And I had never seen a boy choir before.

 St. Luke’s grew to be my church, and I never looked back.  It became familiar and predictable. It was home. 

 I’ve come to think that going to St Luke’s after years of attending the Presbyterian Church was like seeing a movie in wide-screen and color instead of black-and-white. 
 The church had a Rector and three assistant priests. Morning and Evening Prayer were offered Monday through Friday, and the Holy Eucharist midweek and three times on Sunday.  Lay Readers said Evening Prayer.  After a while, I had become a lay reader. Such were the times.

 Pete came to St. Luke’s as an assistant priest, three years older than I. Slowly we became friends over many evenings of Scotch and talk of church, theology and faith.  He had a healthy sense of himself as a priest whose job wasn’t to walk on water, but to serve others. 

 He had a very positive influence on my life.  We’ve known each other now for fifty years, and see each other every 2-3 years. In between we call and email.  

 And, surprisingly enough, Pete was also an Indiana boy!

My Journey of Faith (with Janet Steele)

by Janet Steele

I was raised in a household which pretty much practiced cultural Christianity.  My dad was a lapsed Methodist and my mom was a lapsed Roman Catholic.  Dad did take my brother and me to church occasionally when we were kids.  We were baptized in the Methodist church.  As we grew older we pretty much stopped going to church.  The quiet voice of God, however, was still present in my life even though it did not result in formal church membership.  Once when I was about 11 or 12 years old I attended the Episcopal Church of the Holy Faith in Santa Fe.  I was intrigued that the service was so very much like the Catholic mass I had attended with my mother's family when I was six. I really loved the beauty of these services even though I had no clue about what was happening in either. I think some seeds were sown at these two services.  Time passed, I graduated from high school and went to UNM.  In 1967 when I was a senior the Episcopal campus priest from Canterbury spoke at a sorority talk.  He was saying all kinds of things which piqued my interest. So I took him up on his offer to meet the next day.  That started my journey in the Episcopal church.  I was drawn to the intellectual understanding of Christianity that I heard preached. I liked that there was no set of rules or doctrine that had to be firmly believed and practiced.  I loved the liturgy and the changing seasons.  I liked that I could be and was accepted for who I was and what I believed.  I joined up!

I have stayed an Episcopalian for many of the same reasons that I joined.  I have come to have a much deeper and comprehensive understanding of the theology of both the Episcopal church and the wider church.  I have added a non intellectual understanding as well.  As I get older the contemplative side of our faith speaks more and more to me.  The Episcopal church is broad enough to include these experiences as well as the intellectual understanding of the faith.  The church is broad enough to include all kinds of understandings and doctrines.  We are left to figure it out for ourselves so that it makes good sense to us.  I love the liturgy more now than ever.  I love that the order of liturgy stays the same and gives us a framework which is present each time we do the Eucharist.  The words themselves and the music and the decorations and the place and the people may change but the order stays the same.  The meaning and intent stay the same.  This has allowed me to comfortably travel and live in different places and be a member of a church that stays the course.  I have grown to value and love the practice of inclusion in the church.  I was accepted the way I was...and I believe in accepting others where they are.  I am extremely happy that the Episcopal church offers the love of Christ to everyone even at the cost of losing members who could not bring themselves to include everyone in the full life and membership of the church.  I cannot see leaving the Episcopal church as part of my future.

Our Visit to the Mosque (by Warren Smith)

On Friday, December 11, 2015 a group of us from Canterbury attended services at the Islamic Center of Albuquerque. We were joined by representatives of other groups including the Center for Peace and Justice and St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church. The purpose of our visit was to show our support for the center and its Muslim congregation after a week in which a candidate for President of the U.S. called for a ban on all Muslims attempting to enter the United States. Those from Canterbury included Deacon Pat Masterman, Don Partridge, Susan Patrick, Anne McCormick, Sally Barlow, Anne Marie Werner-Smith, and myself (if I have omitted anyone else I apologize). We were impressed by the warmth of the reception and the sheer size of the congregation (about 400 people). Imam Shafi preached a powerful sermon on Islam as a loving religion which embraces outsiders. The Imam comes from Mombasa, Kenya, where Anne Marie and I have both taught, so we had an instant connection with him. We had a reception afterward at which lunch was served and we discussed our mutual wish to keep up a dialogue with one another. The Islamic Center has had a rough couple of weeks hearing criticism of Islam on the news media and they were very pleased to have our friendly visit. Let us pray that our friendship with them continues.

My Journey to the Episcopal Church (by Susan Patrick)

I came to the Episcopal Church because of a church job.  When I was taking organ lessons in college, I was offered as much practice time as I wanted in exchange for playing two Sunday services each week at a small chapel near the university, the home of the Canterbury Club.  Who could turn that down?  My Presbyterian family was strictly observant:  family devotions, church every week, Wednesday night family suppers at church, Sunday school for all ages, no-frill Sundays ( e. g., no movies or parties etc.).  My father was an elder, and the youth group was active.  Our church was large and dark, and services were traditionally built around a lengthy sermon.  Communion—silent and, as I saw it as a callow teenager, sad—occurred once a quarter:  tiny glasses of grape juice and cubes of bread passed by ushers down each row of pews.  As in many Protestant sects, religion was generally thought of as an individual, personal relationship with God, based at least partly on lists of dos and don’ts.  At the Episcopal chapel, in contrast, students made up the bulk of the congregation, and of course they weren’t forgoing movies and parties on Sunday!  Services were built around the Eucharist, which was part of the fabric of each Mass and was celebrated joyfully.  The focus was on corporate worship, and on discussion and argument rather than on rote learning.  I loved the liturgy and the music—the old Healey Willan stuff included.  Later, I learned how Richard Hooker’s three-legged stool and the via media have informed Anglican theology and history, and I came to believe that God is still speaking to us and acting through us, if only we’d pay attention.  I’m not denigrating my Presbyterian upbringing at all, but the freedom to disagree with other communicants while sharing the Eucharist attracted me and has kept me here.  I’m sure that part of the initial attraction was an excuse for gradually moving away from my family, and that the breakaway from my family’s church was just a part of the culture of the 1960s.  I trust, though, that the Episcopal Church has encouraged me grow into a more mature faith and hope that that process will continue.

Update on Global Missions in Kenya (by Warren & Anne Marie)

Warren Smith and Anne Marie Werner-Smith returned on Oct. 20 from a nearly two-month trip that included periods in New England. New York, Kenya, Turkey, and Greece. It was an amazing time of renewal for both of us. We want to focus on Kenya for which we have done fundraising for nearly 10 years with the generous support of many people at Canterbury. 

Here are the areas of support:

St. Lukes Hospital, Kaloleni, for which we bought a 33-seat bus in 2010 which allowed its nursing school to receive accreditation. The director of the hospital and his staff welcomed us warmly (even though they had no advanced notice we were coming!), showed us the bus which has been maintained in perfect shape, and has even made money for the hospital though being rented out. The nursing school is thriving and we had a tour of their latest teaching equipment. They are getting ready to trade in the bus for a 54-seat model.

Bishop Hannington Institute, Mombasa (BHI). This school has many needs. The principal, Martin Orlando, has opened up areas of fundraising in the U.K. and has put the school’s budget in the black, but they need more enrollment (currently about 35 students), more full-time faculty, and building expansion.  Anne Marie and I stayed in a cramped dorm room and when we emerged the first morning, the entire faculty, staff and maintenance crew were lined up at the bottom of the stairs to greet us.

The new Diocese of Malindi, run by our old friend Bishop Dena and his wife Jane, who hosted us for nearly a week. The diocese has just been created and the Denas are busy visiting often remote parishes and determining their needs.

We had nearly $7,000 (700,000 Kenyan shillings) to distribute and we are now operating through Anglican Development Services, (ADS) run by our friend John Mangenge out of the Diocesan offices in Mombasa. We directed him to distribute these funds in this way:

--making the final payment on the nursing school bus

--scholarships for two students at BHI

--two computers for the BHI library

--licensure for BHI to start using E-textbooks and end its antiquated do-it-yourself Xeroxed text system

--at Bishop Dena’s request, buy a motorbike for a priest in a remote parish (we have bought motorbikes for priests twice before). We also bought a large tea-urn for the Denas to serve up to 100 cups of chai at the many functions they now host. We accompanied the Dena to several “harumbays” (fundraisers) including one for a new church bookstore they are starting in Malindi.

Warren has completed a book on the origins of the church in East Africa, “A Colony of Heaven: Bishop Hannington and Freretown,” which, after many delays, should be published in 2016. He is at work on publishing the diary and letters of William Henry Jones, one of the first native clergymen in East Africa and strong leader of the Christian community in the 19^th century; this will require a second trip to Birmingham, England, where the Church Missionary Society papers are stored. One of the blessings of this trip was to have breakfast with Simeon Tabu, chair of the hospital board and banker who helped us buy the bus, and to discover that his wife Gladys preserves in her memory many old stories of the Freretown community Warren has been writing about, and knows personally relatives of Rev. Jones and others from that era. Sounds like another trip to Mombasa is also needed.