Mtr. Emily's February Note to the Parish
What I’m Doing on My Sabbatical, and a Note about Order
Some folks have asked me what I will be doing for my sabbatical. Many priests later in their careers enjoy planning big trips, sometimes with their whole families, or take on big projects (like a genealogy project, a backpacking trip, or building something). In fact, you can apply for big grants to do big things like this. But me, I am really excited to do small and fun things.
I’m going to finish writing a paper on children’s Bibles that I haven’t had time to finish. I’m going to give more time to my local Episcopal mission, offering evening art gatherings and more services. I’m going to visit my friends (and their children!) who live far away. I do hope to take one trip to London to visit the V&A, look at some ecclesiastical textiles, and interview some artists and historians.
During my sabbatical, you might see me weekdays at odd hours popping into the office. I promise, I will not be doing parish work! I might occasionally be in the office for two reasons: first, many of my books are here, and there are too many for me to take home for these three months. (All twelve bookshelves in our apartment are lamentably full.) Second, part of what I will be enjoying on sabbatical is practicing making materials for children, in my own Catechesis of the Good Shepherd training. As part of our training, catechists make materials for an atrium. I will pop in and out to bring completed pieces or items in process. I’m very lucky that I get to make materials for an atrium that I know! So you might see me wave and then disappear.
I am also excited to bring a little bit of order to my house. I moved in with Omar when we were married in 2019, and we have both been through a variety of work and life changes since then. Somehow, the apartment hasn’t quite reached a stable place. I can’t wait to empty out all the closets and see if we’re really using the space well. I’m going to add a pegboard in the kitchen so that we don’t need to crouch in a corner to get out that big saucepan. I’m going to re-sort my art supplies so that I don’t have to lift the box of metal scraps to get to the box of papers. I’m probably going to re-arrange the furniture at least once!
I think the parish is also doing some of this type of ordering, which it really needs. This is not just about spring cleaning, but about asking: Can I easily reach what I need to reach? Is this room (metaphorical or literal) really set up to be used by me as I am now? Have I outfitted my closets for my current life, or for a life I used to live? Why have I put this often-used appliance on top of the fridge where I need a stepstool to get it down? What dish do I hate having to get out, and is there some other less painful place I can keep it?
In this type of endeavor, honesty with oneself and a clear eye for reality are essential. Neutral observation and awareness can only help. Nostalgia (“But it was set up like this at my last place and I want what was”) and self-recrimination (e.g. “If only I stretched more, then bending down to get the dish wouldn’t be so difficult!”) are enemies.
I think I see this type of ordering happening as we take steps in our Strategic Planning process, and I feel hope that the parish will have a house (metaphorical and literal) where it can move around more freely, and reach for what it needs.
Right now Omar and I are praying the Seven Sundays of Saint Joseph, a sort of holy countdown to the Feast of Saint Joseph. In the first week, we read this excerpt below from Pope Francis’ beautiful letter, Patris Corde. I keep thinking about it, in my own life and for the life of the parish, for the great hope and encouragement it offers. How exciting that we might be as courageously creative as Joseph!
Mtr. Emily
11 February 2026
Feast of Saint Theodora
from Pope Francis’ Apostolic Letter Patris Corde, given 8 December 2020
Often in life, things happen whose meaning we do not understand. Our first reaction is frequently one of disappointment and rebellion. Joseph set aside his own ideas in order to accept the course of events and, mysterious as they seemed, to embrace them, take responsibility for them and make them part of his own history. Unless we are reconciled with our own history, we will be unable to take a single step forward, for we will always remain hostage to our expectations and the disappointments that follow. The spiritual path that Joseph traces for us is not one that explains, but accepts. Only as a result of this acceptance, this reconciliation, can we begin to glimpse a broader history, a deeper meaning. . . .
Joseph is certainly not passively resigned, but courageously and firmly proactive. In our own lives, acceptance and welcome can be an expression of the Holy Spirit’s gift of fortitude. Only the Lord can give us the strength needed to accept life as it is, with all its contradictions, frustrations and disappointments.