Holy Cross Episcopal Church

Barbara in a photograph taken a month before her death.

As the year was slipping away, very quietly and without a fuss on December 22, Barbara Moody Kent died. She would have been 90 in a few months, our oldest member. We didn’t have her nearly long enough; she came to live with her daughter Linda, just a few doors down the road from Holy Cross, a year and a half before her death. Bent in body, having suffered some falls, plagued by minor ailments and set-backs that aren’t so minor when you’re 89, Barbara could no long live on her own. She died early in the evening at Concord Hospital, quite unexpectedly. That afternoon the Vicar had been in to see her, bringing Communion and anointing her in the Ministry to the Sick. They talked of her disappointment that she would miss the Christmas Eve service and her hope that she’d make it to church the following Sunday for the children’s pageant. Fr. John was invited to participate in the memorial service held for her January 2 at the Methodist church in Westport, New Hampshire that had been her home for 30 years.

Funerals can be terrible, but they can also be wonderful — some of the best and holiest things the Church does. Barbara’s service was in the latter category. The tiny country church held family, friends and parishioners, though the day was a very snowy one. There was organ music — Barbara herself had played the organ those 30 years, into her late 80s when she moved away. There was a little choir, handbells and chimes, there were some of the lovely old hymns that seemed to go with the place and the occasion — “How Great Thou Art” and “Blest Be the Tie that Binds” among them. There was a warm and appropriate sermon by the Pastor, Richard Sainsbury, on the Twenty-Third Psalm. And best of all, there were remembrances.

Barbara earlier in life, when she and her husband ran a berry and Christmas tree farm.

Barbara Kent and her late husband Donald (whom she had cared for in his last years as he struggled with dementia) had been pillars of Westport Church. When they moved to the village to take up farming (berries and Christmas trees), there were only half a dozen members of the congregation. There was a freshly minted new minister whom the Kents supported and guided. Barbara started a children’s choir. She organized church suppers. She baked her famous angel pie (recipe below). In everything, she praised, encouraged, thanked — never complained, never criticized.

Of course, church was far from being the only part of Barbara Kent’s life. Her mother died when she was only 12 and a stepmother died a few years later, so Barbara helped raise her youngest half brother. To do this, she put aside the plans she had made for going away to college and instead attended a local college where she trained as a teacher. After stints in one-room schools in Massachusetts, she opened a kindergarten in her own home which she ran for many years. Children remained one of the loves of her life and they were one of the reasons she loved coming to Holy Cross.

This was the Barbara we knew, if so briefly, at Holy Cross. Coming to compose this memorial, we discovered we had no photographs of Barbara to go with it. She was just too quiet, too unassuming. Certainly the formalities of the Episcopal liturgy must have been strange to her after the Methodist church, the hymns mostly unfamiliar. But if they were, she never mentioned it. She was always just gracious about the welcome Holy Cross gave her. She was on a walker and parishioners Donald and Marge Burke drove her to church every Sunday. She sat on the aisle at the back, where it was easy for her to get in and out. We brought Communion back to her each week, not asking her to come forward to receive it. And when the Vicar came to her with those words, “The Body of Christ, the Bread of heaven,” he always felt that she was giving Jesus to him more than he to her.

Barbara Kent will be missed at Holy Cross, but remembered.

May her soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in peace.

Recipe for Angel Pie:

Crust                                                                             Filling

4 egg whites                                                               1/2 cup sugar

1/4 tsp cream of tartar                                          3 tbsps lemon juice

1 cup sugar                                                                  1 cup whipped cream

4 egg yokes

Beat the egg whites and cream of tartar until stiff, gradually beating in the sugar. Spread in well-greased 9-inch pie plate. Bake 1 hour at 250-275 degrees.

Beat egg yokes until thick. Gradually beat in sugar and lemon juice. Cook over hot water until very thick.

Cool and spread lemon mixture on meringue crust. Cover with whipped cream. Enjoy — and thank Barbara Kent!

Richard Harbour (second from left) takes a break from cooking at the chicken barbecue.

I’ll begin by taking you back to 1935.   I was a Roman Catholic.  My Mom and Dad were French Catholic all their lives 90 some odd years. Then when I became a young man and I wanted to have a family of my own, I wanted them to go to the Roman Catholic Church.  That lasted 24 years until I got divorced.   Which changed my life.

 A couple of years after that I met Ellie and she changed my life again - for the good.  But in my mind there was a big void in my life, I went on with day-to-day life, but didn’t have a church. Then, Ellie and I decided to go to the island of St. Martin in the Caribbean.  We’d gone to several other islands and enjoyed them, but the first night we were there, we walked to a restaurant, which you could see from the hotel and we heard a roar come up behind us and a man jumped out and put a 9 millimeter gun in my belly and demanded all of our money.  He grabbed Ellie’s bag off her shoulder.  

When we got back to Rhode Island, where we were living at the time, we were asking,  “Why did it happen to us?”  That man wanted to shoot me, but he didn’t.  We felt we had an angel on our shoulders, And decided it was time to find a church.  We went to St. Matthias and met Father Morgan and it was so close to the Roman Catholic Church, I felt very comfortable with it.   Ellie and I became part of that church family for about six years, and enjoyed doing things for the Church. 

Then we decided to move back to New Hampshire.  We searched about 20 towns and ended up in Hillsborough, of all places.  Then, it was time to search for a church.  Hillsborough didn’t have an Episcopal church, so we tried a couple of Episcopal churches in nearby towns, but they didn’t feel right for us. Then we heard about Weare.  Ellie’s brother had helped move the old church from East Weare to Weare Center years ago, and bragged about that, so we had that connection.  A couple of days later Father John was sitting in our living room, explaining things to us about Holy Cross.   I enjoy Father John and his sermons very much.

I feel apart of our new church building because I worked on it  … painted the posts, and am proud that I was asked to help build the Altar and built the kneeler in front of the icon.  I feel good about mowing and raking the lawn because it’s for the church. 

We have some great people here… talented people here.  In Rhode Island, I was the only one that would read the lessons and here there are a dozen and more people who read – not that I want to read, you all do fine.   I’ve met some wonderful friends – John Heckman, Don and his wife, Marge, and all of you are great friends.   I’ve seen kids grow up … mothers brought them in cradles and now they are practically grown up … I think Laura Arvin was one of the mothers.

I’m proud to be a part of Holy Cross

               Sermon by the Rt. Rev. Arthur E. Walmsley

Bishop of Connecticut (Retired)

                           It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest,

                                 eating the bread of anxious toil;

                                for he gives sleep to his beloved. – Psalm 127:2

 I was not here on Sunday two weeks ago – not playing hooky; we were at the Deering Community Church where I preached. And so I missed hearing Kathleen Kenyon’s ministry minute. Thanks to the Holy Cross website, I have been able to read it. And I have been praying with it ever since. Kathleen talked about the fact that Holy Cross had become a place of balance in her life. In her words:

“I spent a long time trying to find my center until I looked closely one night and found it had wings and moved easily in the slightest breeze, so now I spend less time sitting and more time soaring.” She ended, “Holy Cross and the people I’ve met here at this parish have helped me rediscover those wings.”

That is a very striking image she used – the very center of her being has wings, wings which respond to the slightest movement of air. It is also a very biblical image, one especially found in the Book of Psalms. Continue reading ‘Pentecost 23 November 8, 2009′

There is one word that encompasses my reasons for being here at Holy Cross – that word is “Balance”  The last few years of my life have been like sitting on the low end of a see-saw, kind of stuck, not moving, just sitting there on the ground, not getting a chance to really enjoy the ride.

I came to Holy Cross to find “balance”.  Now, I hover a little higher on the see-saw and sometimes I even get to soar to the top. I enjoy the sermons, the wonderful people, the parish itself, and its history. 

Being here at Holy Cross helps me to unload the week’s trials, the past that still hovers, the pressures of life and to give myself this time to reflect and to find the balance I seek. 

“I spent a long time trying to find my center until I looked closely one night and found it had wings and moved easily in the slightest breeze, so now I spend less time sitting and more time soaring.”

Holy Cross and the people I’ve met here at this parish have helped me rediscover those wings.

Note: Kathleen has been battling a rare form of cancer. Her courage and determination to give to others even as she works to heal herself has been an inspiration to all of us.

A: I’m glad John asked us both to talk this morning about support for Holy Cross. You have to go back fifty-five years to understand where we’re coming from.

R: We were married at Christmas time in 1954, took a wedding trip for three days, and moved to a new apartment. Then I went back to complete my senior year of college.

A: We had our first argument during that trip. As I remember, it was about how to organize our kitchen. Up to then, you had never cooked a meal in your life.

R: You would remember that! But I could read a cookbook. And who were you to talk, living in a bachelor apartment? Besides, on your salary, which was $3600 a year, we had to settle for a $10 a week food budget, which meant an awful lot of casseroles.

A: The best thing we ever did, young and untested as we were, was to make a decision that has shaped our life ever since. We would tithe our income – the top ten percent would be returned to God, first through the Church and then by other charitable giving. We’ve stuck to that, and then some.

R: It hasn’t always been easy, especially in those years when both our children were away in school and I was working on a master’s degree. But somehow we managed, even in hard times.

A: Putting God first in respect to family income means having to plan carefully what is done with the rest. So what does tithing have to do with Holy Cross? Why here, and not somewhere else?

R: When we retired to New Hampshire, we were weary of being at the center of the huge diocese where you were bishop. So we looked for the biggest nearby church, hoping that no one there would ask us to do anything, such as serve on committees. We had enough of being leaders; it was time to be members. So we joined St. Paul’s in Concord. And the bonus was that I could practice on their organ, my first love after Arthur.

A: Then John arrived.

R: His energy and vision made us want to come here. We appreciate this imaginative building, good liturgy, John’s preaching (when we listen), even the way he sheepishly apologizes when he makes gaffes. There’s a diverse mix of people. We celebrate the wonderful ways that young people and their families are made welcome. We marvel what Anne and her colleagues have made of the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. And we love the gifts of people of all ages, and Holy Cross’s outreach. In short, this is our home. The top part of our tithe goes to Holy Cross.

  “Ministry Minutes” are presented each week during the fall pledge campaign.

I don’t have a story about how I helped bring the church out of the economic struggles in the ‘90s because at the time I was just learning how to tie my shoes. I don’t have a story about how I came to Holy Cross and fell in love with it because I’ve come here all of my life. I can’t tell of a life changing experience after listening to a sermon because quite honestly, I can’t focus for that long. I do know that I keep coming back after all these years and there has to be a reason for that.

What does Holy Cross mean to me? Well, to start off, Holy Cross is my church. But what does it mean? The phrase “my church” is possessive so therefore it must mean that I can keep part of it with me at all times, but so can the other millions of people that go to their church. Which is a good thing, I guess, because generally at church we learn how to be good and live in God’s light. But why do I come to Holy Cross and not a different church? I think it is because of the environment. Church is the only time I can think of where I can just let my mind wander and not have to worry about anything. Of course I listen to the sermons, but I also let myself relax and enjoy the peace. These few hours of peace are certainly appreciated in the high-stress world we all live in.

The other reason I come to Holy Cross is the people. The environment we create makes this church a welcoming, happy place. When I tell my friends that youth group usually consists of playing basketball, they all look at me in shock and tell me that is not what their youth group does. No, I cannot say that we are the most stereotypical group of people, but we do know how to enjoy life in the light of God. And now I realize what Holy Cross means to me: a place to teach me how to love myself and everyone around me and have a heck of a time doing so.

When writing my ministry minute, I was trying to think about why Holy Cross is meaningful to me.  And I realized it comes down the three things:

The Atrium. Children are welcomed and cherished in the Atrium.    The whole idea is for children to fall in love with God and Jesus at a young age and to nurture that relationship.  And how do they do that?  Through meditative “work,” where things unfold and are not rushed.  Where they wonder about God and Jesus.  The kids love it because it’s meaningful and true.

Holy Cross is a place that grounds us as a family. It reminds us how to prioritize things in our lives.  It reminds us what’s truly important on a weekly basis.  The rest of the world seems crazy and consuming and sometimes I feel I’m losing myself in it.  Then I come to church and it’s like taking a deep breath.  It’s humbling . . . and simple.

Holy Cross is a community. At Holy Cross we are part of a community, a consistent group of people that we see each week because we want to, not because it’s an obligation. We gather for the purpose of worship in Jesus Christ, but also find friendship and support.  Some of the people here at Holy Cross . . . I still don’t know their names, but I know their faces and their friendly smiles and I look forward to seeing them each week (and getting to know their names :) ).

I asked my kids, why is Holy Cross important to you? Maddy said, “It’s like a celebration for God.” Alex said, “It means that we’re praying.  We’re talking to God and giving thanks.  Maddy added, “Because we honor God and Jesus.” Alex said, “It’s because we like the baptism activity in the Atrium.”

I thought to myself, it’s because we are all a part of Holy Cross and we depend on it.  And Holy Cross depends on us too.

I guess I would have to be called a cradle Roman Catholic. I came from a family where it was “you better be to church 15 minutes early,” “you better have all the prayers memorized,” and “you better not sneeze or cough while the priest is talking.” As I grew older, church kind of phased out of my life because I already knew all the readings and sermons but it just didn’t seem like it related to me. Continue reading ‘Meet David Roy’

I want to say something about the importance of Holy Cross, not just what it is, but what it stands for. I don’t think a person can really live a moral life without hoping that God loves us enough to die for us and wants us to love each other the same way. The only way we can show that we want to live up to that idea together is by attending the Holy Communion and symbolizing that we want to be united in Jesus’s sacrifice. Everybody in the world should be doing that together. I think that’s what Holy Cross stands for. Continue reading ‘Meet Joe Harrington’

In the four years we have lived in Weare, Holy Cross has become “home” to us. Things we relish about Holy Cross include:

·            The way people have opened their hearts and homes to us.

·            The fact that worship is taken seriously; it is never just “matter of course.” We particularly relish the wonderful music in our worship services

·            The importance given to the authority of the Bible, striving to understand and interpret its whole message, in contrast to narrow line-by-line or “literal” interpretation.

·            Father John’s stress on Christian Life as a “pathway to God.”

·            Emphasis upon the one-ness of love-for-God and love-for-neighbors (that is, all of humanity).  We appreciate Father John’s phraseology that “Love for God and love for our neighbors are inextricably intertwined.

·            The fact that, by choice, Holy Cross is a vital part of the Weare community.

·            The acceptance of diversity of liturgical practices, such as sitting, standing, kneeling for prayers, diversity of opinions, such as around the issue of sexuality.

We are happy that Holy Cross is “home” to us!