May 2017

Dear Friends,

       Last week Conni and I traveled to Lafayette, Louisiana, where we enjoyed meeting the parents and family of the young man to whom our youngest daughter Katie is engaged. Katie and Matt Burris will be married in August. His parents invited us to come to their home for a few days to get better acquainted. We had a wonderful time “on the bayou,” ate crawfish gumbo and barbeque and left felling happy and confident about the marriage.

       I also discovered something that in another way strengthened my faith. In the town of Grand Coteau, just a few miles north of Lafayette, is a shrine dedicated to a miracle attributed to Saint John Berchmans. Conni and I drove out there one afternoon to learn more about it. I’m glad we did. We wandered down a long country road until we came to a small Catholic school occupying what used to be a convent. We entered the building and were directed to a room on the second floor that used to be the infirmary of the convent. It is now a small chapel. It was in this room that in December of 1866 a young woman seeking to become a nun received a miraculous healing. What follows is the story of that miracle. It’s a wonderful story. I think you’ll enjoy it.

Shrine of St. John Berchmans

       Few spots in America have been so unpredictably involved in sacred history as a tiny town situated on what was, some two thousand years ago, the west bank of the Mississippi, not far from where it flows into the Gulf. It is called Grand Coteau, from its situation on a sloping ridge or coteau—not a lofty ridge, but a long one. Though a superhighway runs near Grand Coteau today, it is still somewhat off the beaten track.

However, what gives Grand Coteau a unique place in the history of holiness is the Convent of the Sacred Heart—the oldest convent in continuous existence in the entire Society of the Sacred Heart. It is associated with several notably holy persons: two of them canonized and one (so far as we may humanly judge) likely someday to be declared a saint.

       St. Philippine Duchesne, of the Religious of the Sacred Heart, was instrumental in having the convent established in 1821, and she visited here in 1822 and 1829.

But even more dramatic, and perhaps even more significant in American Church history, is the little known case of the apparitions of St. John Berchmans and the miracle, worked through his intercession, which led to his canonization. It happened in 1866, just two years after the end of the Civil War. The site of the miracle is still visited by pilgrims in the main building of the convent.

       Today the holy spot is appropriately transformed into a chapel—a very simple, unadorned chapel worthy of the modest saint to whom it is dedicated. John Berchmans, the most unassuming of saints, was a Fleming, born in Diest (in what is now Belgium) on March 13, 1599. An ideal youth, he felt the special call to serve God as a Jesuit.

Mary Wilson, the beneficiary of the miracle, was born in New London, Canada, September 20, 1846. Becoming interested in Catholicism, she asked for further instruction, and was received into the Church on May 2, 1862. Four years later, she entered the novitiate of the Society of the Sacred Heart as a postulant. Her health was poor, but it was thought that the gentler climate of South Louisiana could be a remedy. She arrived there on September 20, 1866, and was to receive the habit of the Society on October 20 of that year. However, her health continued to grow worse, and on October 19, she was confined to the convent’s infirmary.

We have, in her solemn attestation, a detailed account of the events before the miracle, and since her own words are personal and warm, it would be better to quote them directly.

       “On the 19th of October I was obliged to report to the infirmary, and I did not leave it until the 15th of December, the day after the one on which God was pleased to manifest His Power and Mercy in my behalf. During all this time I was dangerously ill, vomiting blood two and three times a day, with constant fever and violent headaches the greater part of the time; and still the pain in my side continued.”

“I do not think I had eaten an ounce of food for about forty days. During that time I had taken nothing but a little coffee or tea, which for a week before I recovered I could no longer take. And for two weeks no medicine had been administered. The doctor said it was useless to torture me more. So, he stopped giving me any. The last two days I was unable to take even a drop of water.”

       “I endured the pangs of death. My body was drawn up with pain; my hands and feet were cramped and as cold as death. All my sickness had turned to inflammation of the stomach and throat. My tongue was raw and swollen. I was not able to speak for two days. At each attempt to utter a word, the blood would gush from my mouth.”

“Being unable to speak, I said in my heart: “Lord, Thou Who seest how I suffer, if it be for your honor and glory and the salvation of my soul, I ask through the intercession of Blessed Berchmans a little relief and health. Otherwise give me patience to the end. I am resigned.” Then, placing the image of Blessed Berchmans on my mouth, I said: “if it be true that you can work miracles, I wish you would do something for me. If not, I will not believe in you.”

       “I can say without scruple of fear of offending God: I heard a voice whisper, “Open your mouth.” I did so as well as I could. I felt someone, as if put their finger on my tongue, and immediately I was relieved. I then heard a voice say in a distinct and loud tone: “Sister, you will get the desired habit. Be faithful. Have confidence. Fear not.”

“I had not yet opened my eyes. I did not know who was by my bedside. I turned round and said aloud: But, Mother Moran, I am well!”

       “Then, standing by my bedside, I saw a figure, He held in his hands a cup, and there were some lights near him, at this beautiful sight I was afraid. I closed my eyes and asked: “Is it Blessed Berchmans? He answered: Yes, I come by the order of God. Your sufferings are over. Fear not!”

       “For the glory of Blessed John Berchmans, whose name be ever blessed! I deem it my duty to declare here, that from the moment of the cure I never experienced the slightest return of my former ailments. My flesh and strength returned instantaneously, I was able to follow all the exercises of community life from that moment. So that, after two months of cruel suffering and great attenuation of bodily strength from the want of food, I was in an instant restored to perfect health without a moment’s convalescence and could eat of everything indiscriminately, I who for thirty-eight days previous could not support a drop of water.”

       “The doctor called to see me that evening, and what was his surprise to see me meet him at the door. He was so overcome that he almost fainted, and Mother, perceiving it, said: ‘It is you, doctor, who needs a chair!’

Doctor examined the condition of my mouth and tongue, testified to their being well and that my appearance was that of a person in perfect health. The good doctor next inquired if I had eaten anything, and when the waiter containing remnants of my dinner was brought to him, he expressed anew his surprise, and once more declared that no human means could have ever produced such an effect.”

       Dr. Millard’s sworn statement of February 4, 1867, reads as follows: “Not being able to discover any marks of convalescence, but an immediate return to health from a most severe and painful illness, I am unable to explain the transition by any ordinary natural laws.”

       The miracle of Grand Coteau has the same flavor as those of the Gospels and of the Church’s history. It is a stunning reminder that God wants us to pray always and insistently. Perhaps even more, the miracle reminds us, who may be prone to be neglectful of the saints, that God continues to work through human agencies, after their death as during life.

                                                                      ***

       This story reminds me that we cannot, as so many do today, dismiss the supernatural as though it was nothing but imagination. God is with us (Mt.1.23; 28.20) and God comes to us in many and various ways. In this season of Easter, when we meditate on the mystery of Christ’s resurrection, expect a miracle in your life. God responds to faith. Keep praying without ceasing and keep the faith! God will answer your prayers always in the ways that may be best for you.

Faithfully,

Fr. Jansen String

Dates to Remember

Saturday June 17  Flea Market , bring donations and put on the stage

Sunday June 25 Baptism of the String’s grandson @ 9 am service, Parish Picnic to follow, bring covered dish to share, vestry will provide hamburgers, hot dogs and drinks.

January 2017

Dear Friends,

      This election, we might all agree, was interesting and contentious for a variety of reasons. For instance, many contend that Trump is an “Illegitimate” president; that he won the election only because Vladimir Putin tipped the election in his favor by hacking into the DNC computers. It’s not my place to comment on the politics of this election. But I would like to address the religious issue raised by this hacking incident.

       It’s not the hacking per se that caused some voters to think twice about voting for the Democratic candidate. The Russians and the Chinese have been wrecking havoc with the internet for years. We already knew that. We’re all vulnerable. That’s not really news. It was the content of the revelation that was disturbing to some voters. One email exchange was particularly shocking.  Sandy Newman wrote to John Podesta as follows: “There needs to be a Catholic Spring, in which Catholics themselves demand the end of a middle ages dictatorship and the beginning of a little democracy and respect for gender equality in the Catholic Church.” Podesta made this astonishing reply, “ We created Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good to organize for a moment like this. But I think it lacks the leadership now to do so. Likewise Catholics United. Like most Spring movements, I think this one will have to be bottom up.”

       Since when is it the work of political parties to change or influence the churches in America? This admission by Clinton’s campaign manager that the DNC has plotted to corrupt the Catholic Church is one of the most outrageous violations of the principle of separation of church and state ever exposed in this country. My question is: who cares? No one seems to be talking about this. No actual laws have been broken. No one is going to jail. The truth is that Catholics in Alliance and Catholics United have been around for so long advancing the cause of liberal theology in the church that no one notices anymore how corrupting all of this is. Almost all of the churches in America have been pulled so far in the direction of the poltical left in the last forty years and are so strongly influenced at the highest levels by those who identify with the progressive movement, that most people met this revelation with a yawn.

     It’s sad but common knowledge now out in the open that the whole liberation theology movement was created and pushed on the church by the KGB. As part of their cold war strategy they infiltrated the seminaries in Europe and quietly worked to corrupt the church from within by making Marxism, state sponsored atheism, acceptable to the church. Liberation theology is no small thing. It gave us the Reverend Wright, who Barack Obama said was his spiritual mentor; and it radicalized the Jesuit order of which Pope Francis is a member. The DNC is a party of the left. I guess it’s no big shock to see them doing the kinds of things that the KGB has done. The Catholic bishops don’t seem to care. You don’t hear them crying out for justice.

     But that is just the point. No one that I can see, besides the very few conservative Catholics left in this country, is shocked or scandalized by this revelation. Did anyone really change his or her vote because of this? I doubt it. So, for what it’s worth, I don’t think that the hacking scandal did much to affect the outcome of the election, but I do think our reaction to it says something about the direction that the churches in America are moving; none of which is good.

    Our Lady of Fatima appeared one hundred years ago this July to warn the world against the evils that were about to spread around the world because of the Russian revolution. They will continue to spread evil and to diminish the influence of the church upon the world until the church unconditionally stands up to it and rejects it. That has yet to happen. Until it does, Russia is going to be a terrible problem. Therefore, it should come as no surprise to anyone that Russia is working to corrupt our democracy, our elections and our churches. That’s what they have been doing for a century now and will continue to do. We need to be vigilant and pray for our nation and for our leaders. God is faithful and so too must we be.

Faithfully,

Fr. Jansen String

Dates to Remember

Sunday Jan. 29 and Feb.5: Holy Eucharist @8 and 10 am. Fr. Bill Dunning will preach and celebrate.

Sunday Feb 12 Family Breakfast 9 am.

Sunday Feb. 19 Coffee hour following the 10 o’clock service

Wednesday March 1 Ash Wednesday Holy Eucharist 7pm

Sunday March 12 Vestry mtg.

Thursday March 23 Easter Egg making begins

We’ll resume the Bible Study this spring after we complete the Easter Egg making.

You will find a lot of good information on our website, including the sermons, some in written and some in audio format. I have also written meditations for Holy Week that I think you will like.

Remember that we have a prayer chain ministry. If you need prayer for yourself or a loved one call Cindy Kopicki to start the chain 410 284 1665.

If you or a loved one have to be hospitalized, or have a problem and just need to talk, call Fr. String 410 262 2005. We’re here to support you.

December Newsletter

Dear Friends,

       Most of you know by now that I went home on October 3 to be with my Dad for his 89th birthday. Two weeks later, he died. I wrote about the experience of losing him in the sermon that I delivered Sunday November 13. I’m including that sermon with this newsletter.

       I have now lost both of my parents. One thing I have learned is that it matters little how old you are when your parents die or how old they are. Age does not mitigate the grief. After my dad died, I felt like I was walking on thin ice, on a deep lake of cold water into which I might fall at any moment. Here we are a month later and I still sometimes have that feeling. It’s a feeling of dread, of momentarily feeling terribly unsure of where I am; a fear of being horribly alone and disoriented. It passes and I soon return to my normal way of being in the world. But grief is a hard thing. It doesn’t let go quickly.  Your parents are your parents, and when they go your world changes completely. No matter what age you happen to be at the time, once they die, you suddenly become a lot older.

       When I was a kid, I used to think it would be ideal to live to be 100. The closer I get to that age, the less ideal it appears to be. The challenges of aging are immense. The young who have challenges of their own do not see them. Perhaps it’s best that way. They say that wisdom comes with age. But that wisdom is often only gained by enduring difficult sacrifice and sorrow. One person loses her memory. Another can no longer walk without falling. One has no energy left. Another outlives her savings. Everyone who lives long enough to outlive his closest relatives carries a weight of grief that breaks the heart of the strongest. There’s nothing easy about growing old.

       But there is nothing easy about life at any stage. No matter what age we are, we all face the same challenge: to become a saint and be the man or woman that Christ has called us to be; to be a person who does not run from the cross of Christ but embraces it and makes it his or her own.

       As we come to the season of Christmas, a season when Christians celebrate the love of God revealed to us in the incarnate Son, we see how exaggerated our grief and fears really are. Since the Son has made us his own, and all that is God’s is His and all that is His is ours, what have we to fear from death which having no hold on Him has no lasting grip on us? Whatever stage of life we cross, our task is always the same: to let go of our fears and trust in Him who loves us perfectly. God does not promise to free us from tribulation but he does promise, “I am with you always.” And that is a word that brings peace to our souls at every age.

Faithfully,

The Reverend Jansen String

August 2016

Dear Friends,

                        This week I turn 64. After I announced this to the ten o’clock congregation last Sunday, one of our choir members sang to me a Beatles song: “Will you still need me? Will you still feed me, when I’m 64?” When I was sixteen and listening to Paul McCartney sing that song, “64” seemed like a dream, like an age so far away in the future that it would never actually happen to me. I remember being very young, about 4 or 5, and celebrating my grandfather’s 64th birthday. I don’t remember the details of the party. I just remember that I thought at the time that he was ancient. I guess this means that I am now ancient, or at least in the eyes of my grandchildren I am. We’re having a birthday party next week to mark this august occasion and our granddaughter Barbara, age 3, will be there. I’ll make a special point of telling her I’m 64. Who knows? Maybe sixty years hence she’ll remember an ancient old man in his glory and be glad for the memory when her turn comes.

        In any event, I have good news for you. Being ancient isn’t really so bad. In fact, I think that life is better now in many ways than it was then, when I was young and thought I’d live forever and never age. Yes my knees barely bend, I run to the toilet all night long and I avoid looking in the mirror in the morning because the old face I see there is not someone I know or want to admit I know. But when you get past all the aches and wrinkles, unwanted bulges and dents that go with becoming an antique, you realize that there is so much more to life than the young ever imagine. Like a great vintage wine that gets better with age, there is a pride in being older that is really very rewarding. Little things mean more to me now. And things that used to get to me don’t get to me as easily. My mother told me once that she liked being older because when she was young she was too easily intimidated by door-to-door salesmen and too shy to tell them, “No, I don’t want that stupid broom!” She said she enjoyed being older because she had confidence now to tell people where to go if she didn’t like what they were selling. My mother was sweet and kind. She never told anyone where to go; but deep down as she got older she knew she could if she had to. I’m like her. I still avoid conflict like the plague. Controversy scares me. Maybe by the time I’m 80, I’ll be better at speaking my mind. But I’m getting there, and the journey is the better part of it anyways. It’s fun to grow up slowly. What’s the hurry? When asked once what the secret to happiness is, the witty William F. Buckley Jr. replied, “That’s easy.” He said, “Don’t ever grow up.” Most people who knew WFB would have thought him to be insufferably adult and too mature for his own good. But inside, where we all really live, I think he was saying that he had found a way to always remain a reckless boy with an endless imagination who never stopped chasing his dreams. It’s the thrill of filling our dreams that keeps us going, even if like Don Quixote they take us nowhere. That was Cervantes’ point:  it’s not whether you travel far and wide that counts but how you make the journey. On the one hand, by a certain measure, I haven’t accomplished much. But no one’s had a better journey. As a boy I loved being a patrol leader in my Boy Scout troop. I loved that. I loved being with the boys and doing all the things that scouts do. I have loved being the rector of this church even more. I love being with you and doing all the things that Christians do together. And that’s the key to feeling young: do what you love doing with people you love being with and keep doing it.

        I started out talking about growing old but the more I think about it, that’s a subject about which I am unqualified to speak, since I haven’t grown up yet. And if God is good to me, I never will. So, when I count the candles on my cake this year, I will count each one of them a blessing; the greatest being that I have, in addition to a beautiful family that really cares for each other, all of you to thank for bringing so much love into my life. And that means everything to me because along the way, at every stage, it’s the love we’ve known and shared that really counts.

Faithfully,

Fr. Jansen String

June 2016

Dear Friends,

         This past Sunday we were surprised when we tried to turn on the air-conditioning and could not. Upon further inspection of the system, we discovered that our air-conditioning units (the five units by the garage, on the south side of the church) had been vandalized. Whoever did this showed no mercy. The units were severely damaged. The electrical wires were cut and torn off the outside wall of the church. After meeting with the police, we are certain that this happened on Saturday night. We suspect that the motive for the crime was drug related. Many drug addicts will steal anything that has copper in it, in hopes of selling the copper to a dealer for some quick cash. We have had so much copper stolen from our building over the years (all of our down spouts have been stolen) that it’s hard to believe. Ray Griffin and I actually spoke at a hearing before the relevant committee in Annapolis once on a bill seeking to address the issue of stolen copper. I don’t know that it did any good but I guess there is some comfort in knowing that we are not alone in being victims of this type of crime. It’s happening everywhere. You might say it is “a sign of the times”. In recent years we have had so much vandalism done to the church, (statues broken, plants stolen from the garden, lawn furniture ruined, the church entry used as a community toilet) that after a while you get discouraged and then you almost become numb to it.

       How do we cope with this? First of all we recognize the problem for what it is: drugs. The Dundalk neighborhood is being overrun by addicts. The same is happening to neighborhoods all over America. Every day, in addition to property being stolen, young men are dying of drug overdoses, while others commit suicide and still others are murdered. Twenty years ago, few of us had personal knowledge of such heinous things. Now we all personally know victims of these tragic events. You could say that we have lost the war on drugs and it is now full and fast upon us. I also think that it’s safe to say that this situation is going to worsen before it gets better.

       It’s no mystery why this is happening. This is happening to America because America has, over the last fifty years lost its faith in Jesus Christ. You all know the story. The blue laws were repealed, making Sunday just another work day. Then prayer was disallowed in the schools; then the Christmas pageants were abolished. The kids were not taught respect for the Ten Commandments, teaching moral relativism instead. Then the schools began planning sports events on Sundays, so Sunday Schools dried up. Some churches are still thriving, but generally all over America the local churches, Catholic and Protestant alike, are drying up and disappearing. This is a frightening thing to see for those who have faith to see it.

       Let’s recognize that God is not doing this to us. The problems we have are those that we bring upon ourselves. God is simply withholding his grace from us and thereby letting us see what it’s like to live in a land that is not fertilized and watered by the word of God. This is, at its heart, a spiritual problem with a spiritual solution. The problem is that America has turned its back on God. The answer is to turn back to God; to do as Jesus said, “Repent and believe the gospel” (Mk.1.15). The apostles warned the early church that “God disciplines those whom he loves.”(Heb) When we fall into sin he forgives the penitent, but he also lets us pay the price of suffering. The social sins of this country since the 1960’s are obvious and familiar to us all. “You reap what you sow,” the Bible also says. We have sown to the winds of promiscuity and indifference to the word of God and we are now reaping it. The way out of this is to come back to church and come back to God. God’s grace can turn this sorry situation around in a heartbeat; but before God will do that we have to give him our hearts. Prayer is the act of opening our hearts to God: pray every day for America, for Dundalk and for this church. Pray each day, really pray. God will get us thru this if we trust in Him.

       Don’t give up. The Bible is full of admonitions to, “Fight the good fight!” and “Endure to the end.” Dundalk needs the churches now more than ever “to stand against the wiles of the enemy” (Eph.6). Keep praying and get your friends and neighbors to come back to church. I mean get in their face and get them back in here! If you’re reading this newsletter but haven’t been to church in a year, I mean you! Are you willing to sit back and see this church close? Are you willing to watch and do nothing as Dundalk goes to hell? We need to take back our neighborhood; take it back from the dealers and users who have no right to it. Double your prayers, people. Don’t go to bed at night without confessing your sins and then pleading for Dundalk and for our church.  We need a miracle, and Jesus Christ is the one to do it.

Faithfully,

Fr. Jansen String

May 2016

Dear Friends,

       Conni and I traveled recently to London where she had a speaking engagement. We then took the train to Paris for three days of sight-seeing and glorious over-eating. The food in France really is even better than they say. We saw the Eiffel Tower up-close and the Louvre. We even had a half-day guided tour of Versailles. The French people whom we met were very friendly. We found the city itself to be remarkably clean and quiet. Drivers do not honk their horns. It was a delight to walk the beautiful streets window shopping in what felt like a dreamland of chocolate shops and bakeries. I hope to travel there again one day.

       But the high point of the trip for me was not one of the usual tourist spots. It was the visit we made one morning to a sacred place on a quiet street, 140 Rue du Bac, The Chapel of the Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal. It was here at midnight July 17, 1830, that the Virgin Mary appeared to Sister Catherine Labouré, a young nun who had just entered the convent. Catherine told her confessor that Mary spoke to her for two hours, telling her many things that would soon happen in France, all of which came to pass. Mary appeared to her again a few months later, on November 27, telling her to have a medal struck that the faithful should wear around their necks. The medal was to depict Mary, as she appeared to Catherine, standing on a globe with rays of light coming forth from her outstretched hands. And the medal was to read “Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee.” Catherine’s story is long and involved but the bottom line is that eventually the medal was struck and because of it thousands of people in France experienced conversions and astonishing miracles, so much so that the medal became known as “the miraculous medal”. This is really a beautiful and inspirational story of faith. If you have a computer, look up the miraculous medal and read about it. Better yet, buy a miraculous medal and begin to wear it. I’ll be glad to bless it for you on the altar.

       But there is a detail to this story of supernatural grace that particularly fascinates me. It’s what I most wanted to see for myself and what I wish to bring to your attention here. The church discovered by accident back in the 700s as they were transferring the remains of Saint Cecilia from one grave to another that her body had not decomposed. Cecilia, a young Christian girl who was killed for her faith by the Romans in the first century, had been in the ground for over six-hundred years. And yet when they exhumed her body they found it showed no signs of decomposition.

        Since then, as part of the process of beatification, the church has exhumed the bodies of would-be saints. Over one- hundred saints have been discovered to be what they call “incorruptible.” Catherine Laboure died in 1876. Over 50 years later, in 1933, her body was exhumed and found to be supple and fresh. Her eyes were as blue as they were in life. Her body is now at rest in a glass tomb beneath the altar where Mary appeared to her. It was a privilege to kneel quietly before her tomb and pray. In the midst of that busy city, I found in this sanctuary a tranquil reminder that Heaven is always breaking in on us. God has much to teach us; if only we will listen with faith and open our hearts to wonder.

Faithfully,

Fr. Jansen String