Beloved,

“Do you see an empty spot next to mine?” (Pause) “You can take that spot, if you want.”

It was the most touching way anyone has ever proposed to me.

Six years before I started serving at St. Paul’s, I took a long drive to Henderson, Kentucky, with then-seminarian Fr. Roger. It took about six long hours in a tiny Honda Civic. I was ready to get out of the car and be comfortable, but Fr. Roger had another plan. He narrated his life story as we slowly passed his childhood home, elementary school, favorite burger joint, church, and, eventually, his family cemetery. Let’s just say we got to know each other very well on that trip.

His proposal—of shared roots, shared rest, and shared belonging—filled a long-standing void in my life, like finding a missing puzzle piece after years of searching. As the second immigrant in my family, I had often wondered about my future away from my family of origin. Would I stay in this country or go back? Would I have a family of my own? Who would be around when I die? Comparing my life with Uncle George’s—the first immigrant who left everything behind to make it in the United States—these questions lingered quietly in my heart.

“So, this is where my body will rest when I die,” I said to myself. Fr. Roger’s invitation was a reassuring, visual confirmation of my final resting place—next to his. The pappus—the tiny seed carried by the wind—no longer drifts aimlessly; it can finally land, grow roots, and build a strong foundation. Foundations and roots both speak to what holds us steady and allows faith to grow.

That moment helped me understand, in my bones, what Jesus means when he speaks of good soil. In the Parable of the Sower (Matthew 13), Jesus teaches that faith grows best when it is rooted in good soil. As we welcome February, we have many opportunities to reflect on the foundation of our faith. On February 15, Bishop White will be with us to confirm, receive, or affirm the belief of Teresa, Ann, Marilyn, Marsha, Collin, Joe, Mary Dele, and David. Their decision to commit to Christ is a fruit of your gentle and loving invitation here at St. Paul’s, and a testimony to your faithful work in nurturing spiritual roots. If you feel called to commit to Christ that day as well, please let me know. I request all of you to be present to witness their public commitment of faith.

What follows the bishop’s visitation is Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday—the beginning of Lent. During these forty days, we are invited to return to the foundation of our faith: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Lent reminds us that we are dust, and to dust we shall return. In humility, we dedicate our lives anew to following Jesus, becoming faithful stewards of a foundation grounded in God’s love.

As for me, I will travel to Seattle from February 4 to 11 to visit old friends who helped me not give up hope during a spiritual wilderness in my younger years. They offered me a firm foundation and planted seeds of hope that eventually led me to faith in Jesus Christ. I am grateful to Deacon Pete for officiating Morning Prayer on Sunday during my absence.

As you enter February, I leave you with a few questions: Who helped cultivate your spiritual foundation? What have you done—or what can you do—to keep enriching that foundation, so that you may be a good steward of God’s love?

Faithfully,

Fr. Andrew