The first thing is to let you know that the process of calling a new rector is built into the very foundation of our church. Some of us have come here as a refuge from faith traditions in which we were given no choice in our leadership, or only the illusion of choice. Thankfully, the Episcopal Church is one that believes that a community is guided by God to call its own rector. We are not given a priest or even a list of candidates by the Bishop. We must find him; we must call her. This is, of course, more of a blessing than a curse. But it has deep consequences for our identity as a community. One of those consequences is that we are not bystanders to our priest’s hopes, dreams and aspirations — we choose them. In other words, Channing’s hopes, dreams and aspirations are not just his — they are a reflection of us. It is as though the church held up a mirror to itself in 1997 and what was reflected back was this young man from Cincinnati. We called him because he represented the parts of ourselves that we liked, and the parts of ourselves that we wanted to refine and recast. The leaders of this church in 1997 had the wisdom and foresight to think that Channing was going to change us into the people we wanted to be. And they were right, because now that community includes you. We should be very proud of the people who called Channing, because we owe them a debt of gratitude. We held up a mirror and 1997, and what we saw in it was a better version of ourselves. We are not the image of Channing; Channing is the image of us, a personal embodiment of the values we hold as a church, and for that we are very proud.

Over time, standing together in front of that mirror, the reflection changed. Channing’s qualities — particularly his ambition for a Gospel-oriented world and his desire to build up skills as a priest — always made him hunger for challenges. Channing came to us a fly-fisherman, and now we have a rector passionate about rock-climbing — there’s a metaphor in that somewhere, I’m sure of it. Channing started our ministry to the homeless, but also evolved to develop an interest in schools, diocesan governance, and most recently the unneccessary plights of the poor in immigrant communities and in the undeveloped Third World abroad. Channing also had the opportunity to broaden his reflection of our image by bringing some exceptional people to work ministry in our lives — first Jen, then Melanie, and Davidson. At times Channing’s reflected image of us reflected a boldness and courage we didn’t always fully see in ourselves. Now those essential qualities have drawn him to another opportunity entirely. What is important to realize is that Channing’s decision to move on to new and different challenges was not an accident, nor is it a sad fact of life — it is, as with all things, a reflection of what our community wants for itself and for the young man it called 12 years ago. Channing reflected our values, and whether or not it is what we want, his decision to take on new challenges reflects our values as well. Now, as we say goodbye to Channing, it is our right and duty to call the man or woman for whom Transfiguration will be grateful next. We will soon see another face in our mirror, and what we control are the values we wish to see reflected in our priest.

The name of our church is Transfiguration. We are named after a story of a miracle told in three Gospels. In all three, the story is basically the same: Jesus takes Peter, James and John to the top of a mountain. Suddenly his face changes appearance and shines like the sun, and his clothes become white as light itself. I think we all understand that what the Gospels were trying to communicate was that Jesus was made to look more beautiful than any earthly person has ever before looked. It must have been pretty impressive to merit a mention by Mark, Matthew and Luke. What the Gospels do not say is how this felt for Jesus while it was happening. The Transfiguration may have been beautiful, but for all we know it may also have been painful, even excruciating. Considering how impossibly polite he was during the Crucifixtion, we know he was a guy with a pretty high pain threshold, so the fact he remained as cool as a cucumber during the Transfiguration doesn’t tell us much either way. I’d like to assume that whatever it was, the Transfiguration was an extraordinary experience for Jesus — at least as if not more extraordinary than it was for the observers. Now, we, the Transfiguration Episcopal Church, are called once again to be Transfigured. The image reflected in the mirror will once again change, and we know that it will be beautiful. We don’t know how painful the transfiguration process might be, but we know that it will be extraordinary, and we know God loves this community and will see it through. Fortunately, we also know that Jesus made a full recovery from his Transfiguration, so it cannot have been too awful.

I invite you — I implore you — to let your values be reflected in the mirror. The Vestry will be calling a Search Committee that will undertake the task of identifying which of our collective values are the most important to be espoused by candidates for our newest priest. Don’t be passive bystanders in this process; the Episcopal Church is not one where you “wait to see” what kind of priest you get, and then walk away if you don’t like it. If other churches operate that way, let them. But here, in our church, we all have a role to play in making sure that our priest is a true reflection of our community. A priest chosen without you will not be a reflection of you, and therefore by definition cannot be a true image of our community that includes you. We all need to stand in front of that mirror. To you, the men and women who saw Channing in the mirror and called him, thank you. To you, the men and women who will with God’s help see our next priest in the mirror, thank you also.

Melanie+

s in the bay area before we came to Transfiguration and the biggest reason why we decided to become members here was, we wanted more than a place to come and read scripture, we wanted a family in Christ.

Maggie at Snow Day

Snow day was awesome.  My daughter saw snow for the first time in the middle of San Mateo.  Thank you to all of the families for the awesome cookies and for the snow ball fights!