Holy Redeemer Lutheran Church
1948 The Alameda
San Jose, CA 95126
San Jose, CA 95126
How are you spending your dash?
The Sunday offering for the month of March is the Desayuno de Pollo benevolence. Every December a dedicated group of people distributes chicken dinners for Christmas to some of the poorest families of Mazatlan, Mexico.
Pastor John & Marcia will deliver your donations in person when they make their annual trek to Mazatlan in November. The collection will be taken on the first Sunday in March so please give generously!
Thank you for you support of this ministry. If you have any questions please contact Marcia Freesemann.
The first HRLC Literatsi meeting of 2010 will take place on Saturday, March 13 at The Mission City Coffee Roasting Company, 2221 The Alameda, Santa Clara.
The discussion will center on White Teeth by Zadie Smith, described in the San Francisco Chronicle as, “White Teeth just may be the first great novel of the new century.” Read more about it in your Literatsi 2010 brochure.
(Please remember to designate on your envelope for which bill you are donating funds and include the pull-strip from the board — needed for HRLC accounting.)
Please donate paper napkins and dish soap to the kitchen. Thanks go to everyone that brought towels, creamer & decaf coffee! Remember, donated supplies are kept in a locked supply cabinet. Check with Leslie to learn the secret of the keys. Extra rolls of paper towels are in the Support Room (#3) downstairs.
Why Stand with Africa?Hunger, HIV/AIDS, and civil strife exist in all parts of the world, but in Africa these three realities are intertwined in ways that reinforce and intensify the human suffering caused by each. While just 10% of the world’s population lives in sub-Saharan Africa, 24% of the world’s undernourished people, 27% of the world’s refugee/internally displaced people and 60% of people living with HIV/AIDS reside in sub-Saharan Africa.
If you would like to include a prayer through PrayerInsertHRLC@aol.com please submit by noon on Wednesday. [Note: Prayer requests from Sunday Morning are automatically included in the next week's Prayer Insert.]
| Sunday | 8:00 am | Middle East Prayer Vigil |
| 10:00 am | Celebration and Communion Service | |
| 11:15 am | Fellowship | |
| (Carolyn Keck and Lisa Paulsen) | ||
| Monday | 9:00 am | Office open (thru 1:00 pm) |
| 10:00 am | Office Staff Meeting | |
| 2:30 pm | Pastor John @ Hotel Workers Rising Mtg (HRLC) | |
| Tuesday | Pastor John Day Off | |
| 9:00 am | Office open (thru 1:00 pm) | |
| 12:00 pm | Bulletin Announcements Due | |
| 6:30 pm | Choir | |
| (Contact: Brad Bryant) | ||
| Wednesday | 9:00 am | Office open (thru 1:00 pm) |
| 10:00 am | Meditation & Communion Service | |
| 12:00 pm | PrayerInsertHRLC@aol.com deadline | |
| 6:30 pm | Adult Ed class | |
| Thursday | 9:00 am | Office open (thru 1:00 pm) |
| 11:00 am | Pastor John @ Book Study (HRLC) | |
| Friday | Office Closed | |
| Pastor John Off in Afternoon | ||
| Saturday | 10:00 am | Praying & Sharing |
| (Contact: Carolyn Keck) | ||
| 12:00 pm | Literatsi w PJ | |
| 1:00 pm | Food Pantry Distribution | |
| (Contact: Pastor John) | ||
| Sunday | 10:00 am | Celebration and Communion Service |
| 11:30 am | Fellowship | |
| (Kym Prouty and Marcia Freesemann) |
ONCE upon a time, more than a thousand years ago, a great white sea-gull was circling above the waves which roll between South England and Wales. He was pretending that he was doing this just for fun; and he seemed very lazy and dozy as he poised and floated without much trouble to move his wings. But really he was looking for a dinner, though he did not want anyone to suspect it. And he hoped that some unwary fish would swim up near the surface of the water within diving reach of his great claws. His keen gray eyes were open all the while unsleepily, and not much that was going on down below on the water escaped his notice.
Suddenly his eye caught sight of a little black speck on the waves. "Aha!" he said to himself, "I think I see my dinner!" and with a great swoop down he pounced. You could hardly think how anything which looked so lazy and quiet could dart so like a flash of lightning. But a gull is an air-ship that can sink whenever it chooses. And when he gives a fish a sudden invitation to step in for dinner, the fish is hardly able to refuse.
But this was no fish which the hungry gull had spied. Before he reached the water he saw his mistake, and wheeling swiftly as only a gull can, he flapped back again into the air, uttering a screech of surprise.
"Cree-e-e!" he cried. "'Tis no scaly water-fish such as I like to eat. 'Tis one of those smooth land-fishes with yellow seaweed growing on its head. What is it doing here? I must see to this. Cree-e-e!"
No wonder the great bird circled and swooped curiously over the wicker basket which was floating on the waves. For on a piece of purple cloth lay a tiny pink-and-white baby, sound asleep, his yellow hair curling about the dimpled face, and one thumb thrust into the round red mouth.
"Well, well!" said the sea-gull to himself when he had examined the strange floating thing all he wished. "I must go and tell the others about this. Something must be done. There is a storm brewing, and this boat will not bear much rough weather. This little land-fish cannot swim. We must take care of him, Cree-e-e!" So off he flapped, and as he went he gave the family cry to call the gulls about him, wherever they might be.
Soon they came, circling carelessly, swooping sulkily, floating happily, darting eagerly, according to their various dispositions; and as they came they gave the Gull cry. "Cree-e-e!" said they, "what is the matter?" "Follow me," said the White Gull to the great fleet of gray-winged air-ships. "Follow me, and you shall see" (which is Gull poetry).
Then he led the flock over the spot where the wicker cradle tossed on the growing waves. "Lo," said he, "a land-fish in danger of being drowned among the Scaly Ones. Let us save it. See how pink it is. Its eyes are a piece of the sky, and its voice is not unlike ours—listen!"
For by this time the baby had wakened, and feeling cold and hungry and wet with the dashing spray, opened his pink mouth, and began to cry lustily. "E-e-e-e-e!" wailed the baby; and as the White Gull had said, that sounds very like the chief word of the Gull tongue.
"Poor little thing!" said all the mother gulls in chorus. "He talks our language, he must be saved. Come, brothers and sisters, and use your beaks and talons before the clumsy nest in which he lies is sunk beneath the waves, Cree-e-e, little one, cree-e-e! We will save you."
Now, I don't know what “cree-e-e” means in Gull. But the baby must have understood. For he stopped crying instantly, and looked up laughing at the white wings which fanned his face and the kind gray eyes which peered into his own blue ones.
So the strong gulls seized the corners of the purple cloth on which the baby lay, some with their claws, some with their hooked beaks. And at a signal from the White Gull they fluttered up and away, bearing the baby over the waves as if he were in a little hammock. The White Gull flew on before and guided them to land,—a high shelf which hung over the sea roaring on the rocks below, the nicest kind of a gull home. And here they laid the baby down, and sat about wondering what they must do next. But the baby cried.
"We must build him a nest," said the White Gull. "These rocks are too hard and too sharp for a little land-fish. I know how they sleep in their home nests, for I have seen."
Now the gulls lay their eggs on the bare rocks, and think these quite soft enough for the young gull babies. But they all agreed that this would never do for the little stranger. So they pulled the downy feathers from their breasts till they had a great pile; and of this they made the softest bed in which they laid the baby. And he slept.
This is how little Saint Keneth was saved from the waves by the kind sea-gulls, And it goes to show that birds are sometimes kinder than human folk. For Keneth was the Welsh Prince's little son. But no one loved him, and his cruel mother had put him into the wicker basket and set him afloat on the waves, not caring what became of him nor hoping to see him again. But this in after years she did, when Keneth was become a great and famous Saint whom all, even the Prince and Princess, honored. She did not know him then because she believed that he was dead. How proud she would have been if she could have called him "Son!" But that was many years later.
Now when the gulls had made Keneth this comfortable nest, they next wondered what they should do to get him food. But the White Gull had an idea. He flew away over the land and was gone for some time. When at last he returned he had with him a kind forest doe,—a yellow mother Deer who had left her little ones, at the White Gull's request to come and feed the stranger baby. So Keneth found a new mother who loved him far better than his own had done,—a new mother who came every morning and every night and fed him with her milk. And he grew strong and fat and hearty, the happy baby in his nest upon the rocks, where his friends, the sea-gulls, watched over him, and the mother Deer fed and cared for him, and washed him clean with her warm crash-towel tongue.