The Holy Spirit brings people together – so that we can see and understand each other at the deepest level. And the understanding is, for Christians, that we are all connected through that same Spirit.

On Pentecost afternoon, the Holy Spirit brought many parts of the diocese together to sing, to pray – to have our ministries blessed – and to be fed and freed by the Spirit.

The feast of Pentecost commemorates the release of the Holy Spirit. It is long thought of as the birthday of the church. Scripture records the first Pentecost as happening when people were gathered in one place (Acts 2:1). My guess is that they gathered outside, partly because there were far too many people to be contained indoors and partly because the Spirit, which in Hebrew is Ruah (or breath or wind of God), is most manifest outside.

I have never owned a gun. I last fired one when I was about twelve years old, at a rifle range while at summer camp. I am not part of the gun culture, and know very little about it - except for the flood of resistance released by a portion of that culture toward any legislation that intends to reduce gun violence.

The violence continues.

On Monday afternoon, three people were killed and scores were injured in Boston. Details are still emerging, but it has unleashed a level of fear – and brought our psyches immediately back to the tragedy of 9/11. We talked with our children last night; and they said that all their friends who had run on Monday reported that they were all right. A priest friend of mine from Massachusetts told me this morning that both of his sons had been at the finish line cheering on friends, but they left before the explosions.

I prefer to put an H at the front of the word “Alleluia,” because then it requires more energy to say it – or shout it or sing it. Hallelujah. Halleluia, Hamdalilah (the Arabic translation which Muslims use), Alleluia – however you say it or spell it; it is an expression of deep joy. We Christians reintroduce Hallelujah at Easter, because of the joy that is released in the Resurrection – “Alleluia: Christ is Risen!” Because Jesus rose from the tomb, Hallelujah erupts from the depth of the soul.

I believe that we Episcopalians tell our story through our liturgy – and that's what we did yesterday in our nation's capital.

Much of my time at our recently concluded House of Bishops meeting was spent dealing with responding to gun violence. A group of us met by conference call before our gathering, met several times during our time together in North Carolina, and have committed to continuing to work together beyond our meeting. We organized an entire afternoon and evening on the subject. We produced a "Word to the Church," which I commend for your reading: Godly Leadership in the Face of Violence.

I watched a TV show last night in which, in the course of an hour, at least eight people were shot dead. The violence was glorified, in that the “good” guys prevailed. And the violence was trivialized, in that the” bad” guys were nameless and clearly anti-social; no blood was seen and no tears were shed. Everybody on the show, including me watching it, moved on without any reflection that lives were taken.

It is Shrove Tuesday. Mardi Gras. The day before the beginning of the Lenten season. The end of my/our sojourn through Anne Lamott’s book Help Thanks Wow.

One of my first wows was being taken to my first major league ballpark – Wrigley Field in Chicago. I was six. My dad took me. Everything about it was wow (and still is whenever I walk into a ballpark). I don’t remember what I said when I first walked in – if I said anything. “When we are stunned to the place beyond words, we’re finally starting to get somewhere.” (Page 73, Help Thanks Wow.)