The Annual Meeting is also the moment when we elect those who will manage all that in the year to come—  the Wardens and Vestry Members.  In the Annual Meeting, Lily said, we are reminded that we do not only sing and pray together but we work together as the Body of Christ.  We work in a particular place, with a particular mission and a particular identity—our beloved Church of Our Saviour.

Following the renewal of our baptismal vows, the departing members of the vestry were released.  Pam Di Bona, Jennifer Hollis, Terry Hofmann, and Rose Schulz were thanked for their faithful and creative service as vestry members.

In thanking out-going warden, Bill Durkee, Lily spoke of his ability to hold things together by holding people together, with care, attention, humor, and love.  The new vestry was commissioned, reports were received, and we ended with a celebration of Eucharist, centering us as always in our faith.

Read more about the new vestry members inside.

The hymns, prayers and readings offered words of consolation. A candle lighting ritual provided an opportunity to be welcoming and patient with our feelings.  In her reflection, Lily reminded us that Advent is a time to prepare for change and change begins when something else ends.  When something ends there is a tough neutral zone to go through before new beginnings begin.  Advent is an invitation to the neutral zone where we wait for what’s next.  We may feel sad, lost, disappointed, or like a failure, but we wait anyway.  In Advent faith is waiting.

I once spent a summer day at the mountain home of a well-known literary woman and editor.  She lamented the absence of birds about her house. I named a half-dozen or more I had heard or seen in her trees within an hour -

the indigo-bird, the purple finch,

the yellowbird, the veery thrush,

the red-eyed vireo, the song sparrow.

‘Do you mean to say you have seen or heard all those birds while sitting here on my porch?” she inquired.

“I really have,” I said.

“I do not see them or hear them,” she replied, “and yet I want to very much.”

“No,” said I; “you only want to want to see and hear them. You must have the bird in your heart before you can find it in the bush.

From “The Art of Seeing Things” by John Burroughs.

This year, as part of our efforts to involve young people in our liturgies, the new candle was lit each week by a member of the Sunday School group.

Ably assisted by the Rector, whose steady hand never left the solid little step-ladder whisked into place by our seminarian, the candle lighters carefully brought flame to wick to begin each Advent service.  The delight in their eyes was matched only by the assembled community’s quiet pleasure. Perhaps we were reminded again of the power of a Child to bring light to our hearts.

Amy Carman remembered driving along a country road, when it has been overcast or rainy.  Suddenly, you may see sunshine in one or two places, streaming down from the dark clouds above, to fields below.  It doesn’t take too much imagination to connect this vision with the heavens sending a message to us, even if only to notice this lovely field.  In our house a stream of sunshine starts with Martin Luther King Jr. and ends at a 7 year old girl.  She has a strong connection with this man and his words.  A fierce flame of righteousness burns in her.  She reminds us often to be thankful, . . . and mindful.

Chris Wilbur said: Saturday I just had to see the whistle-stop train.  So I found myself flipping on CSPAN, where they sometimes let the camera rest on a scene with no commentary, and found myself at a station in Maryland with maybe a hundred others, people of all types, in the camera’s wedge, with a low wall behind them in front of tracks.  Though the light was somewhat somber, the crowd I could see was exuberant and relaxed. You could hear people chattering and laughing, one shouting, “No more Bush!,”  But I realized that I certainly was not relaxed at all watching this, that in some way I had not been relaxed for some time.

The camera stayed fixed on the scene and suddenly the train arrived on the left with a rumble and loud whistles.  The crowd cheered.  The engine passed.  The passenger cars rolled slowly by the camera, car after car, which seemed to take a long time as the train had evidently slowed to a crawl.  Then an old-fashioned coach which must be the last one, and sure enough, now the end of the train and just Barack and Joe standing on the tiny platform and waving.  My eyes fixed in on Barack, who continued to wave, at us and perhaps not just us.

He looked relaxed indeed, a friendly, delighted expression on his face as the end of the train angled away on the right side of the screen (the camera never moved).  As he disappeared I realized again how un-relaxed I was watching this, how I wouldn’t be able to breathe well until high noon on Tuesday, Inauguration Day.

And I felt with some sadness how hard it has been sometimes to breathe well in a racist society.  But whatever may happen later on, I said to myself, things will be better indeed come Tuesday noon.

Rose Udics said: In one of the scripture readings for this day, Samuel did not recognize the voice of God calling him to become a prophet. What does the voice of God sound like to us today? I believe God’s voice is in the kind of call that groups like the Greater Boston Interfaith Organization make-to help us recognize our God-given power when we work for Justice and Truth on behalf of our brothers and sisters, in Boston and elsewhere. I hope that we, as a faith community and as individuals, can heed that call. Though we may be tired after a long day of work and not want to use precious free time to lobby at the State House with hotel workers and personal care attendants for better working conditions, we can still sign a petition or make phone calls, or simply “be there”: show up at a meeting where having a crowd present sends an important message. When we do these things together, we are the inspiration, the “breath of fresh air” we all hope to find-the power of the Spirit at work in and among us.

Jim Gomes said: Rose and I adopted our daughter Elizabeth from South Korea when she was an infant. She became an American citizen when she was three years old. When Elizabeth was about eight or nine, she was studying the American Revolution in school. One evening, in telling us about how some of the colonists were part of the rebellion and some were not, Elizabeth casually remarked, “We were all British then.”

I was struck by how totally this little girl from half a world away had taken ownership of more than two centuries of American history. Only later did it occur to me that Rose’s and my families had not migrated to America from various corners of Europe until the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, and that therefore all of the Paul Revere/Thomas Jefferson/Abraham Lincoln stuff was just as “adopted” for us as it was for Elizabeth.

For all the mistakes the U.S. has made throughout its history, the fact remains that it, more than any other nation, has aspired to bring together people of all races, religions, and countries of origin into a nation based on ideals rather than tribe. This week, with Barack Obama’s ascension to the presidency, we will do something that is unimaginable almost any place else on earth. That is reason enough to be hopeful for the future.

We were all British then; we are all Americans now.

Amy Carman remembered driving along a country road, when it has been overcast or rainy.  Suddenly, you may see sunshine in one or two places, streaming down from the dark clouds above, to fields below.  It doesn’t take too much imagination to connect this vision with the heavens sending a message to us, even if only to notice this lovely field.  In our house a stream of sunshine starts with Martin Luther King Jr. and ends at a 7 year old girl.  She has a strong connection with this man and his words.  A fierce flame of righteousness burns in her.  She reminds us often to be thankful, . . . and mindful.

Chris Wilbur said: Saturday I just had to see the whistle-stop train.  So I found myself flipping on CSPAN, where they sometimes let the camera rest on a scene with no commentary, and found myself at a station in Maryland with maybe a hundred others, people of all types, in the camera’s wedge, with a low wall behind them in front of tracks.  Though the light was somewhat somber, the crowd I could see was exuberant and relaxed. You could hear people chattering and laughing, one shouting, “No more Bush!,”  But I realized that I certainly was not relaxed at all watching this, that in some way I had not been relaxed for some time.

The camera stayed fixed on the scene and suddenly the train arrived on the left with a rumble and loud whistles.  The crowd cheered.  The engine passed.  The passenger cars rolled slowly by the camera, car after car, which seemed to take a long time as the train had evidently slowed to a crawl.  Then an old-fashioned coach which must be the last one, and sure enough, now the end of the train and just Barack and Joe standing on the tiny platform and waving.  My eyes fixed in on Barack, who continued to wave, at us and perhaps not just us.

He looked relaxed indeed, a friendly, delighted expression on his face as the end of the train angled away on the right side of the screen (the camera never moved).  As he disappeared I realized again how un-relaxed I was watching this, how I wouldn’t be able to breathe well until high noon on Tuesday, Inauguration Day.

And I felt with some sadness how hard it has been sometimes to breathe well in a racist society.  But whatever may happen later on, I said to myself, things will be better indeed come Tuesday noon.

Rose Udics said: In one of the scripture readings for this day, Samuel did not recognize the voice of God calling him to become a prophet. What does the voice of God sound like to us today? I believe God’s voice is in the kind of call that groups like the Greater Boston Interfaith Organization make-to help us recognize our God-given power when we work for Justice and Truth on behalf of our brothers and sisters, in Boston and elsewhere. I hope that we, as a faith community and as individuals, can heed that call. Though we may be tired after a long day of work and not want to use precious free time to lobby at the State House with hotel workers and personal care attendants for better working conditions, we can still sign a petition or make phone calls, or simply “be there”: show up at a meeting where having a crowd present sends an important message. When we do these things together, we are the inspiration, the “breath of fresh air” we all hope to find-the power of the Spirit at work in and among us.

Jim Gomes said: Rose and I adopted our daughter Elizabeth from South Korea when she was an infant. She became an American citizen when she was three years old. When Elizabeth was about eight or nine, she was studying the American Revolution in school. One evening, in telling us about how some of the colonists were part of the rebellion and some were not, Elizabeth casually remarked, “We were all British then.”

I was struck by how totally this little girl from half a world away had taken ownership of more than two centuries of American history. Only later did it occur to me that Rose’s and my families had not migrated to America from various corners of Europe until the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries, and that therefore all of the Paul Revere/Thomas Jefferson/Abraham Lincoln stuff was just as “adopted” for us as it was for Elizabeth.

For all the mistakes the U.S. has made throughout its history, the fact remains that it, more than any other nation, has aspired to bring together people of all races, religions, and countries of origin into a nation based on ideals rather than tribe. This week, with Barack Obama’s ascension to the presidency, we will do something that is unimaginable almost any place else on earth. That is reason enough to be hopeful for the future.

We were all British then; we are all Americans now.

Following the gospel, Lily invited everyone present to speak from their hearts as they reflected on the work of Martin Luther King, Jr. in light of the current historic moment, the inauguration of the first African-American president.

Stories of inspiration and encouragement were shared as people spoke about the significance of Obama’s achievement for themselves personally.  Others remembered words of faith and hope spoken to them by others who shared the dream.  Turning points and memories were recalled that are given new meaning in this historic moment.

It was a powerful, moving service. As we prayed that “our land be bright, with freedom’s holy light” we were all grateful to live to see this day.