THIS SUNDAY: Oct. 21, 2018, 4 p.m. Gathering and Worship at Rose City Park Presbyterian Church 1907 NE 45th Avenue – Portland, OR.
Questions? Contact Pastor Brett Webb-Mitchell (919) 444-9111; firstname.lastname@example.org
Dear Mountaineer, Beachcomber, Bohemian, Backpacker, Family, and Friends,
First, I begin with the good news that our Investment Grant for the Community of Pilgrims Presbyterian Fellowship was submitted and approved for $25,000 from the Presbytery of the Cascades, and has gone forward to be considered by the national 1001 New Worshiping Communities folks at the Presbyterian Center/Presbyterian Mission Agency in Louisville, KY. Prayers that we receive matching funds from the national PCUSA!
Second, as I prepare for a Benedictine retreat with the men of First Presbyterian Church, Salem, I refreshed my understanding of hospitality in the Rule of St. Benedict. The Rule is a small book written by Benedict of Nursia (480-550 CE), meant to provide rules for a community of monks living together. One of the practices that the Benedictine community is well-known for is the practice of hospitality, which is a core practice of Community of Pilgrims. In the Rule, it is written that “any guest who happens to arrive at the monastery should be received just as we would receive Christ himself, because he promised that on the last day he will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me. Proper respect should be shown to everyone while a special welcome is reserved for those who are of the household of our Christian faith and for pilgrims.” What does it mean to practice such hospitality? It doesn’t mean bringing out the best china, lace napkins, and crystal wineglasses. The real meaning of hospitality has to do with making room inside ourselves for another person, in small and big ways. Let’s practice that kind of hospitality within the Community of Pilgrims!
Friday, Oct. 19-21, Brett leads Men’s Retreat for First Presby. Salem men at Suttle Lake;
Sunday, Oct. 21, Gathering and Worship at Rose City Park Presbyterian Church’s Chapel;
Sunday, Oct. 28, Gathering and Worship at Rose City Park Presbyterian Church’s Chapel;
Sunday, Nov. 4, Gathering and Worship at Rose City Park Presbyterian Church’s Chapel;
Friday and Saturday, Nov. 9-10, Stated Meeting of the Presbytery of the Cascades, Columbia Presbyterian Church, Vancouver, WA.
Sunday, Nov. 11, 10:30 am, Brett preaching at First Presby. Church, Woodburn, OR;
Sunday, Nov. 11, 4 pm, Gathering and Worship at Rose City Park Presby. Church’s Chapel.
*Regarding the t-shirts: Please pick up your t-shirt this Sunday, and bring cash or a check made out to Community of Pilgrims, in the amount of $8 for adult M, L, and XL, and youth; and $12 for adult 2XL. Thank you!
* We also have plenty of beautiful leather bracelets for each member of the community! Pick one up this Sunday!
After Apple-Picking, by Robert Frost
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.
Pastors Brett & Chris
Rev. Dr. Brett Webb-Mitchell (919) 444-9111; email@example.com Rev. Chris Dungan (503) 724-7060; firstname.lastname@example.org