This Sunday, 10 a.m. at the Larz Anderson

Park shelter: worship, singing, food, kickball, and a chance to meet rector-elect Jeff Mello—don’t miss it!

Bring a lawn chair or blanket to sit on, if you wish.

sparks from Linda Hastie

The return address on the long white envelope said "St. Paul's Church, Brookline" so I just knew it was news from the Search Committee naming our Rector-elect. My first impulse was to rip the envelope open and be informed. I resisted. Instead I did what is my practice before tackling big decisions; big events. I prayed. It lay on my desk for two hours before I felt ready to receive; before my spirit leapt for joy. Jeff Mello!

I know of him.  After my husband, Neal, retired from almost fifty years of ministry in Roxbury, I worshiped for a time at St. John's Episcopal Church in Jamaica Plain, where Jeff was being upheld and supported during his discernment and subsequent theological training at EDS. He and Paul generally sat behind me in worship where their son, Ardani, would joyously join them following Church School. I had next-pew interactions with this loving, dedicated, intelligent, and welcoming man.

Glad Tidings, the newsletter from St. John's, provided a wonderful vehicle for all of us to read of Jeff's purposeful journey toward the priesthood. I reveled in watching, reading about, and savoring Jeff's progress toward his and the congregation's dream for his life.  His writings were strikingly meaningful. Often I was moved to tears. Occasionally I laughed aloud. Frequently I gained some insight into my own life as I read of his journey.

I didn't stay at St. John's even though it is a loving and faithful community of believers led by a superior priest. I was searching, yet, for a place and community I could call my spiritual home. My path led me to return to St. Paul's, where I had worked as Parish Secretary for nearly ten years beginning in the mid 1980s.

My first outspoken suggestion as a member of St. Paul's occurred at the annual parish meeting last January when I asked if, along with prayers for our Search Committee, we could include praying for our yet unchosen Rector-to-be; to uphold this person in his or her journey to us; to prepare his or her heart to accept our call.

I believe we as a congregation and Brookline as a community are in for a real treat. And I am assured, once again, that prayer is answered.

sparks from Liz DeSelm
My Dad taught me a great many things. In his garage, decorated with toolboxes, old racetrack diagrams, and license plates from once glorious racing vehicles he drove and maintained, I learned how to work with my hands, how to do woodworking and basic electrical work. He took great care to teach me how to diagram an idea, be it a skateboard ramp or shelving. My father taught me to plan, to not worry about getting dirty (“That's what soap’s for!” he’d say), and to take pride in the details. Outside of the garage, he taught me that there is more to life than one’s own opinion, that learning is a lifelong process, and that no matter how overwhelming the obstacle, there was always an opportunity to learn and grow. He taught me that perseverance is a marathon, not a sprint. Most of all, he taught me that love is unconditional. Period.

When I was 9 or 10, I was kicking a soccer ball around in the breezeway. In my head, I was the great Pele, and at some point I realized the bottom part of the breezeway wall—that part which was wood, not glass—would make a decent pretend goal. I’d kick the ball at the wall, and dutifully, the goalie would return the ball to me. Well, that goalie was pretty good and I ended up kicking the ball a little bit too high, shattering not only my make-believe match, but the window panel above, too. Dad asked me if I did it, and I did what most 9-year-olds would do: I lied. He knew better. And I knew he knew. Over the years, this scene became a joke between us, one of stubbornness, and it wasn’t until a couple years ago that I admitted my guilt. He loved me at 9, he loved me at 30, and I know he loves me to this day, shards of glass and all.

Two years ago, I came out to him about my lifestyle changes. I made a special trip out to San Diego, just to talk to him face-to-face. (He taught that the real difficult conversations were best had in person: “It shows integrity and character.”) The day before I traveled to see him, he came down with pneumonia, which, in combination with his emphysema and COPD, required that he be hospitalized. I went out anyway, and we had our discussion on Day 2 of a five-day trip. I was terrified he’d reject me, ostracize me, dismiss me like sour milk. Instead he asked me if I knew that country song about a father’s love (“Love without End” by George Strait). I knew it. I cried most times I heard it. The gist of the song was no matter what the circumstances, a father’s love is unconditional and without question. “You are my flesh and blood, and I will always love you. I can’t promise understanding, but I love you now and always.”

You have been praying for Bernard DeSelm for quite some time now. Bernard is my father, and I want to thank you for your thoughts and prayers. His mortal life has drawn to a close, but his spirit will live on in everything I do. No one person has shaped my life quite as much as he has, and I hope that by my sharing these stories, he has touched you as well. I love you, Dad.

Bernie DeSelm   October 2, 1936–June 6, 2009

This will be the last Calendar for the spring. Watch for a midsummer version in late July.

Sunday, June 14    Second Sunday after Pentecost

8 a.m.             Holy Eucharist in the Chapel (last 8 a.m. service until fall)

8:15 a.m.        Music practice for picnic, in Lichtenberger Room

10 a.m.           Parish Picnic at Larz Anderson Park Shelter

Kickball game: youth vs. wisdom

 7:30 p.m.        Lavazza Chamber Ensemble: Strings, winds and harp; free

Sunday, June 21   Third Sunday after Pentecost

No 8 a.m. service, today through Sept. 6

10 a.m.           Holy Eucharist in the Church, summer scheduling begins

Note that the Brookline Flag Day parade will be June 21! Harvard and Washington Streets will be closed from 10 am to about 1:30 pm.