“I am grateful to God…when I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day.  Recalling your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy.  I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.”

1 Timothy 3:1-3

Beloved Siblings in Christ,

I remember with fondness and gratitude the letters my mother wrote, faithfully and dependably, during the years when I and my young family were separated by the miles from the rest of the family.  Those letters in her neat, careful script (before emails and social media were a thing!) were her way of extending her love and making our connection even stronger.  Later, when we moved closer so I could begin seminary, we had the privilege of being together on a regular basis, often traveling “over the river and through the woods” to join the rest of the family for holidays and special occasions.  To this day I don’t know how Mom, with all her other obligations, managed to find time to write those letters.  I see it now for what it was—a true act of generosity.

Paul’s second letter to Timothy is like those letters I received from home – personal, affectionate, encouraging.  Paul longs to see his young co-worker in the flesh.  He knows there is no substitute for the joy of being physically together. Because we are, as Paul says elsewhere, members of the one body of Christ, we need each other to be whole.  No one can be a Christian alone.  This is a primary reason why our efforts are trained on inviting you back into the rhythm of in-person worship and activities at Peace.  Your physical presence—makes all the difference, for without you we are not the same!  The wonderful level of participation on Rally Sunday was a resounding affirmation of the truth that in baptism God has made us siblings and called us into community together.  Ours is an EMBODIED faith, and you, dearly beloved, are physical embodiments of the gracious presence of the triune God.  Gathering together around God’s word and sacraments, beholding each other, making new connections, strengthening bonds for mission, discovering gifts—all this grows from being together.  (BTW, if you missed my sermon on September 18 where I explore this idea further, you can request a copy or find it HERE.)

October is month of harvests.  In coming weeks our family will make its annual trek to the Snoqualmie Valley to celebrate the generous way which Earth brings forth its gifts so that all might be fed.  The month will also include keeping an eye out for returning salmon in the Cedar River and Fauntleroy Creek—Sockeye and Coho making their final journey to spawn a new generation.  If there is a more profound picture of generosity in nature, I know it not, for these salmon come, as David Duncan has written, to nail “their shining bodies to lonely beds of gravel, not for anything they stand to gain, but that tiny silver offspring and 300 salmon-eating species of flora and fauna may live and thrive.”[1]  God’s benevolent, abundant design is behind it all—the Great Giver.

This month we will be launching our annual giving campaign—the first in three years—under the theme: CULTIVATING A CULTURE OF GENEROSITY AT PEACE.  Over a six week period we’ll explore this theme in a variety of ways, hearing from a variety of voices about the IMPACT Peace ministries are having in our lives and the larger community. Just as Christ did not live for himself alone, we do not live for ourselves alone.  The salmon knows this.  We know it too.  The gifts and resources with which God has blessed us are meant to be pooled and shared, bolstering our mission in Christ’s name in strategic ways, seeding a new generation, equipping us to continue our good work for the sake of this world God so loves.  I sense a growing momentum as I sit in on ZOOM meetings and hear of ideas and plans for growing our congregation’s “mission footprint” in 2023.  Generosity will be a crucial ingredient in bringing those plans and ideas to fruition.

With you on the Way, Pastor Erik

[1] David James Duncan, God Laughs and Plays. P. 167