Keeping Connected

WinterW i n t e r    b l e s s i n g s . . . 

Happy New Year! We hope 2025 is off to a happy and promising start for you and your community.

Welcome to the latest installment of Keeping CONNECTED, our when-the-muse-strikes-us newsletter for the Connections community. The ministry of preaching and communications is our focus here. So pull up a chair, pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee (or whatever) and join the conversation.

And we welcome your voice and wisdom to the conversation — please send your comments, reactions and suggestions to us at any of the contact points below.

”My Decade-Long Journey to Belief”

Politics has been David Brooks’ beat for the past 40-plus years, both as a columnist for The New York Times and a commentator on the PBS Newshour. Of late, a special focus of his work has been ethics and morality in our culture and society and our individual responsibility to provide for the common good.
Brooks has also written honestly and insightfully about his own challenging journey from agnostic to believer. In the February issue of Connections, we included a piece from Brooks’ remarkably candid essay in The Times [December 19, 2024] about an “epiphany” he experienced in a New York subway car:

“I was in a crowded subway car underneath 33rd Street and Eighth Avenue in New York (truly one of the ugliest spots on this good green earth). I looked around the car, and I had this shimmering awareness that all the people in it had souls. Each of them had some piece of themselves that had no size, color, weight or shape but that gave them infinite value. The souls around me that day seemed not inert but yearning — some soaring, some suffering or sleeping; some were downtrodden and crying out.

“These thoughts helped me think more deeply about my job. I had approached journalism with the vague sense that the people we cover have a basic dignity by virtue of being human. But seeing them as creatures with souls, as animals with a spark of the divine, helps me see people in all their majesty. Seeing them simultaneously as fallen and broken creatures both prepared me for their depravities and made me feel more tender toward our eternal human tendency to screw things up. I hope I see each person at greater height and depth.”

PrayerDavid Brooks’ “movement toward God” has been an 11-year odyssey. Along the way he has reconnected with the Judaism of his youth and embraced Christianity in his adulthood (“You can’t unread Matthew,” he notes). The experience has changed his view of what it means to be a person of faith:

“‘Faith’ is the wrong word for faith as I experience it. The word ‘faith’ implies possession of something, whereas I experience faith as a yearning for something beautiful that I can sense but not fully grasp. For me faith is more about longing and thirsting than knowing and possessing . . .

“Sometimes I feel pulled by a goodness that seems grand and far-off, a divine luminosity that hovers over the far horizon. Sometimes I feel pulled by concrete moments of holy delight that I witness right in front of my face — the sight of a rabbi laughing uproariously as his children pile over him during a Shabbat meal, the sight of a Catholic priest at a poor church looking radiantly to heaven as he holds the bread of Christ above his head. I’ve found that the most compelling proofs of God’s love come in moments of radical delight or radical goodness — in the example of those who serve the marginalized with postures of self-emptying love.”
Which brings Brooks — and us — to grappling with another word: religion.

“Just as being religious without being spiritual felt empty, being spiritual without religion doesn’t work for me. Vague spirituality seduces me to worship a state of my own mind, rather than the source of love itself. It lures me to a place outside history, with no overarching direction. Mere spirituality invariably teaches me the easy lessons that I already wanted to learn. Religions, by contrast, enmesh your life in a sacred story. They provide the sacramental symbols that point to ineffable truths and rituals to mark the transitions in our lives.”

Brooks has come to understand faith as “three interrelated movements.” The first movement is “sanctification”: the desire to become a better version of yourself. The second movement is “healing,” what Brooks sees as a person’s “simple countenance, that individual’s way of paying attention to the world, marked by patience, peace, kindness, joy and love. It is seen in others as they do small things with great love.”

And the third movement is a “greater and greater intimacy with God.”

“There’s a big difference between knowing about God and knowing God, and to really know him, you have to talk with him, through prayer, the spiritual disciplines like fasting and contemplation and through daily submission. I haven’t made much progress on this front.” Brooks acknowledges.
There is much more to glean from Brooks’ thoughtful piece. It’s worth checking out for a pragmatic and relatable perspective of the faith journey we all travel.


Ready for the Lenten desert . . . ?

Lent is just a few days away — and again this spring, the Editors of Connections have assembled a collection of meditations for the 40-day journey to Easter.

Connections for the Weekdays of Lent 2025 is now available. The stories and meditations reflect the themes of the Gospel readings in the Lenten lectionary, beginning with Ash Wednesday, March 5. Also included in this special issue are reflections for the Easter Triduum: Holy Thursday (April 17), Good Friday (April 18), and the Easter Vigil (April 19).

The Connections Lenten issue is available in TWO formats:
the DIGITAL version (sent via e-mail, as a PDF file) at $35;
the “PAPER” version (mailed via USPS) at $41 (Canadian and overseas orders: $44 US).

If you preach — or have always intended to preach — at weekday liturgies during Lent, this special edition of Connections will prove to be a valuable resource.

To order, return the form below with you check or money order to: 
Connections for the Weekdays of Lent 2025, 7 Belgian Way, Londonderry, N.H. 03053

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Enclosed is my check/money order for $_________. Please send me ___ copy[-ies]
of the Connections 2025 Lenten Weekday issue in the (CHECK ONE:) 
[  ] PDF format  [  ] paper format.

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Thanks, Santa Fe — now on to Collegeville . . .

HomilistOne of the highlights of 2024 for this scribe was facilitating a series of workshops for the deacons and deacon-candidates of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe in August. The weekend included a skills workshop for deacon-candidates and an afternoon workshop on preaching strategies and contemporary challenges in preaching the Word. My thanks to Deacon Keith Davis for hosting a terrific weekend.

Plans are underway for a similar set of workshops at Saint John’s Abbey in Collegeville, Minnesota, this summer. On Tuesday, June 10, we’ll have a “master class” especially designed for novice preachers. Participants will be asked to preach a five-minute homily, followed by a group evaluation of the homily’s content and the preacher’s presentation. On Wednesday and Thursday, June 11-12, I’ll be leading a workshop/retreat in preaching strategies and challenges designed for anyone involved in the preaching ministry.

Log on to the Saint John’s Abbey Guesthouse website for more information. Deacons serving in the dioceses of Minnesota should be in contact with their diaconate offices for details. We’ll also have more information on our Connections website.

If you’re considering a homily training program for the priests and deacons of your diocese, deanery or community, please let us know if we can be of assistance. Contact us anytime at the phone number or via the e-mail address below.

A humble thank you . . .

Words cannot begin to express my thanks to the many of you who have sent notes and e-mails since we announced that this will be the last year of Connections. Ann and I appreciate your kindness and concern. It’s gratifying (and not a little humbling) to know that our small effort here mattered to so many homilists and teachers and their communities.

This past Advent I began my 39th year writing and editing Connections; with this year of Luke, I will complete my 13th “journey” through the three-year Sunday lectionary cycle. This seems like a good time to bring it to an end.

We’re looking at ways to make the Connections material available. We hope to continue the Advent/Christmas and Lenten/Easter issues even after we end the Sunday newsletter in November 2025. A blog is also a possibility as a means for continuing to make the material on the website available, as well as a new book. So stay tuned.

As I hope to write a few more times between now and the Solemnity of Christ the King this November, thank you for your continued support of Connections in the past and in this last year of publication.

Jay Cormier


A d v e n t   b l e s s i n g s . . .   

VisitationWe hope this edition of our now-and-again newsletter for the Connections community (“good people all”) finds you in the threshold of an Advent of joyful anticipation as we journey liturgically and spiritually toward Bethlehem. After a year of every kind of natural and political challenge, may the New Year dawn with the healing peace and light of hope of the Christ Child.

Usually, Keeping CONNECTED centers on trends and resources in the ministry of preaching and communications. This time out we want to share a few Advent and Christmas pieces we came across that we hope might illuminate your Advent and Christmas preaching with extra brightness.

An unconventional birth announcement

Rachel Held Evans spoke for a generation of young believers wrestling with their faith. Born in the Bible-belt, Evans writes about faith and doubt, life and death, with passion, integrity, honesty and kindness. Her spiritual journey and unique writing voice fostered a community of believers who yearned to seek God and challenge conservative Christian groups that they felt were often exclusionary. She was the author of four New York Times best-selling books; her book Wholehearted Faith was completed by a friend and published after her death. Married and the mother of two, she died in 2019 of a brain seizure. This is from her blog, posted on December 5, 2017:

It’s an unconventional birth announcement.

Defiant. Prophetic. Unsentimental.

We like to paint Mary in the softer hues — her robes clean, hair combed and covered, body poised in prayerful surrender — but this young woman was a fierce one, full of strength and fury. When she accepts the dangerous charge before her, (every birth was risky in those days, this one especially so), rather than reciting a maternal blessing, Mary offers a prophecy:

My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. 

I hear Mary’s Magnificat shouted, not sung: 

In the halls of the Capitol Building: He has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.

In the corridors of the West Wing: He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.

In the streets of Charlottesville: He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.

Among women who have survived assault, harassment, and rape: He has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed.

Among the poor, the refugees, the victims of gun violence, and the faithful ministers of the Gospel who at great cost are speaking out against the false religions of nationalism and white supremacy: His mercy is for those who fear him, from generation to generation.

With the Magnificat, Mary not only announces a birth, she announces the inauguration of a new kingdom, one that stands in stark contrast to every other kingdom — past, present, and future — that relies on violence and exploitation to achieve “greatness.” 

With the Magnificat, Mary declares that God has indeed chosen sides.

And it’s not with the powerful, but the humble.

It’s not with the rich, but with the poor.

It’s not with the occupying force, but with people on the margins. 

It’s not with narcissistic kings, but with an unwed, unbelieved teenage girl entrusted with the holy task of birthing, nursing, and nurturing God.

This is the stunning claim of the Incarnation: God has made a home among the very people the world casts aside. And in her defiant prayer, Mary — a dark-skinned woman, a refugee, a religious minority in an occupied land — names this reality.

“The innkeeper’s defense”

Readers of the space will recognize the name J. Barrie Shepherd, the retired senior minister at First Presbyterian Church in New York City, whose writings have graced this newsletter. Now living “up the road” on the coast of Maine with his wife Mhairi, Barrie is the author of several books and poetry collections. You may know his work from The Christian Century, Weavings, Presbyterian Outlook and The New Republic. I assign to my preaching students at Pope Saint John XXIII Seminary his wonderful book Whatever Happened to Delight? Preaching the Gospel in Poetry and Parables.

I particularly love Barrie’s soliloquies in which he channels a particular figure from Scripture and makes us see into our owns souls by way of the speaker’s soul. With Barrie’s permission, we share “The Innkeepers Defense” from his book A Poetic Pandemic Christmas Pudding: 

Of course there was room.

Any innkeeper worthy of his bread and salt

knows that. Even in the most travel-wearied season

always, within reason, one chamber at the least

is kept for that noble, but unexpected guest,

that personage of means and influence,

accustomed to the very best,

who arrives with zero reservations, tests to make

or break your reputation as a host.

 

Yes, there was room.

But who, for the heaven’s sake, was going to take in

a female in her all-too-typical condition?

So far along she might well drop her litter

that very night. And then what of my fine furnishing

and white, imported linen sheets . . . ?

To say nothing of the fright her peasant shrieks

and groans would wreak upon the tender ears

of my cultivated customers, sending them

to an early bed, or driving them from the place

disturbed, disgusted, never to return . . .

 

But I want you to remember this.

There WAS room, not a doubt. I wouldn’t want

any other report to get about.

I keep a most commodious establishment

where no one with the wherewithal,

or recognized connections, need ever fear that they

might be shut out, without a place to lay their head.

Foxes have holes, they say, and birds of the air

Have nests, and the innkeeper of Bethlehem

will always have a resting place

for distinguished members of the human race.

[For a list of Barrie Shepherd's collections of Advent and Christmas prayer/poems, contact us at Connections. All proceeds from Barrie’s books are donated to food pantries in the southern Maine area.]   

May God walk with us in the New Year . . .

A final Christmas light from the late Henri Nouwen. This from his journal Gracias! Gracias!: A Latin American Journal:

God came to us because he wanted to join us on the road, to listen to our story, and to help us realize that we are not walking in circles but moving toward the house of peace and joy. This is the great mystery of Christmas that continues to give us comfort and consolation: we are not alone on our journey. The God of love who gave us life sent his only Son to be with us at all times and in all places, so that we never have to feel lost in our struggles but always can trust that he walks with us.

The challenge is to let God be who he wants to be. A part of us clings to our aloneness and does not allow God to touch us where we are most in pain. Often we hide from him precisely in those places within ourselves where we feel guilty, ashamed, confused, and lost. Thus we do not give him a chance to be with us where we feel most alone.

Christmas is the renewed invitation not to be afraid and to let him — whose love is greater than our own hearts and minds can comprehend — be our companion.

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May the Child of Bethlehem be our companion as we begin our journey through 2025.

Jay Cormier