This…
Another Letter to Washington DC
Dear Mr. President,
I was looking at the news this morning after church services and an idea came to me which is the inspiration for this letter.
A second person has been shot and killed in Minneapolis and it appears that two sides have entrenched themselves even deeper. Protesters and Law Enforcement are stressed and it feels like there’s no end in sight. This seems to becoming more than just about protest or enforcing the laws. It seems things have become personal, political, and somehow like the situation has become a prop for larger agendas on both sides.
You’ve traveled the world to make diplomatic forays and solve conflicts. Consider, perhaps, sitting down not with leaders of hostile nations but with the Governor of Minnesota and finding a way to make the peace not in some distant land but here at home. You both have interests, of course. You were opponents in the recent election. Hard words have been said yet if you can find ways to communicate with leaders of nuclear powers surely there’s a chance to speak with a state official?
Beyond the activists and the officers there are people struggling to make sense of the current events, people of good will wondering “Why?” and looking at the situation and thinking “This isn’t right.” They belong to neither camp but are deeply concerned. Who speaks for them? Who listens to their quiet discomfort about these things even as they look for leaders not to join the combatants but to find a way out. Consider being that kind of leader.
As always, we Orthodox Christians pray for our country, its civil authorities, and all of our Armed Forces. This will continue even as we search for some ray of hope, of softening egos, and consideration for all the rest of us who’ll have to live with the consequences of these days long after the TV cameras leave.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Fr John Chagnon
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Another Letter to the President…
Dear Mr. President,
As usual you continue to be in my prayers as we Orthodox Christians pray for every civil authority and our Armed Forces. May God grant you wisdom to lead us all to that which is right, good, and decent.
Please consider the times we live in and help us all find common ground. Emotions are frayed, people are weary of soul, and a kind of sadness has begun to creep across our country. Shouters and antagonists are having their wishes fulfilled but the many of us who want to find peace, concord, compromise, and unity are hardly ever heard above the din. Those who wish to live in honor of the law but also in mercy and basic concord with those around us are being shouted down and it seems as if there is no one to speak for us.
I understand and respect that you took an oath but please don’t forget the Law higher even than the Constitution and the Judge greater than the Supreme Court and as you consider what to do and how to act remember all of our accountability to that jurisdiction as well. I encourage you to take the time in your busy schedule not just for planning the next steps or coming pieces of legislation but also for reflection in the presence of God and the reality of things eternal and not just the temporal.
I say these things out of great respect for your office but also with the hope you will find in our Lord Jesus Christ that which wealth, success, or earthly honors can never match, namely grace, peace, and salvation. Your legacy may matter for a short time, but your soul endures forever and please also consider that in how you serve us all as President.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I presume these letters never actually find your personal desk, but my prayer is that somehow the message will still find a way. My encouragement for you to be just and good in an eternal sense of that word also comes with an assurance that you will be in my prayers and that in the swirl of history you will find both grace and the Giver.
In Christ,
Fr John Chagnon
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On the News…
In the immediate years after I graduated from college, BS Mass Communications (Honors) a sea change happened in American Media. Broadcast licensees were released, by the FCC, from the Fairness Doctrine a policy that those who held such licenses were to provide a generally fair and balanced presentation of content especially in regard to politics. Newspapers were basically exempt from this, and you can still find local papers named the “_______ Republican” with an advertised point of view. Newspapers have, can. and do often endorse candidates and take editorial positions but before 1985 these things were rare in broadcast. The theory behind this was that the airwaves belonged to the public with stations purchasing a license, subject to review, while newspapers were private entities with no larger responsibilities. Very partisan magazines such as Mother Jones and National Review were sold, and newspapers were free to editorialize with their only responsibility to the potential purchasers.
After the repeal of the Fairness Doctrine broadcast media began to take on an increasingly partisan tone and where the requirement to be as neutral as possible had once been the rule they began to fragment into serving specific audiences not unlike magazines and newspapers. The proliferation of networks via cable and satellite furthered this fragmentation. Three major networks have become dozens and perhaps hundreds if you include internet and other forms of media. No longer required to be balanced or appeal to a broader audience each began to support themselves by catering their content to a specific audience as a way of surviving because news operations are not charities and require income to continue. So, for example, to keep its target audience watching Fox will have stories its audience wants and skewed to the “right.” CNN does the same but to the left and so forth. By agreeing with the biases of their audience, they try to keep eyes on the screen and clicks on their web pages both of which they use to raise revenue and make profit.
What has happened is that Americans have become residents in news “ghettos” where they choose to only listen to, watch, or click on information that feeds their own biases regardless of the spectrum and, in effect, create an “echo chamber” where complete stories, nuances, or information not part of the preferred narrative are simply not available. Confirming the target audience’s biases, rather than presenting information for them to make their own decisions, is now the business model, has been for decades, and the impetus behind it isn’t good journalistic practice but rather financial return for the major corporations that own most of the national media in the US.
Added to this challenge is the 24-hour news cycle. I’m old enough to remember when TV stations simply went off the air at midnight and resumed broadcasting just before breakfast. Now information is instant, global, and to compete its often presented without the safeguards of time and editorial oversight. In the rush to be the first to the most the normal caution to get the facts straight often gets sidelined over the commercial interest in being first to present and keep those revenue generating eyes on the screen. Released from the obligation to at least try to present balanced information and encumbered by the rush to fill airtime with content stories get presented in fragments with an emphasis not so much on quality information but rather the most eye catching or emotion provoking content over and above context and a larger view. We Americans are naive in accepting that just because something is on a screen it is therefore truth in the best sense of that word and we too often forget that the purpose of the presentation is revenue from the target audience with accuracy and breadth often being impediments to, rather than the purpose of, news
So always ask “Am I getting the whole story or at least most of it?” when digesting media. Then, when you choose to react, and reaction should be a deliberate choice and not just an impulse, you’ve taken the time necessary to know whether you’re doing so on reasonably solid information or a carefully developed script whose goal is the financial wellbeing of the broadcast entity rather than the common good. Wherever you find yourself on the political spectrum give at least the same kind of attention to your news sources as you would to the ingredients for the things you eat, have the intellectual courage to ask even your preferred news sources “Is this the whole story?” and make your decisions accordingly.
Please know that the people on your TV news programs are not necessarily chosen for their journalistic acumen but rather on whether they’re physically pleasing to an audience. They actually have customer surveys and ratings for this and it’s why you seldom see average looking people on TV newscasts. The old joke is that some people just have a “face made for radio” and that’s truer than you might imagine.
Please also know that, exerting the same caution, you may also get information from non-US news sources that can provide larger balance and context. Just be aware that some of these “sources” can be official organs of governments.
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The Rage Machine…
It was a matter of seconds. A car moved and shots were fired. A young lady was dead.
With an amazing speed the pundits started their chatter. While people were trying to make sense of things and investigators were trying just to get to the site people who were not there, witnessed little or nothing, had already made their minds up, became judge and jury, and passed sentence.
“She was murdered…” some shouted. “FAFO,” others chortled, and people instantly became experts on ballistics and the intent of strangers and knew for a fact what had happened. The whole thing was like ten blind people trying to describe an elephant only by touch, but each was certain their emotions were justified and their positions beyond scrutiny. The young lady who was killed and the agent who took her life quickly became almost incidental to the story because the rage machine was already on the job making sure those who profited by the disquiet of the masses would get what they needed.
This is America these days where each of us, in our own way, wants the presumed power of being offended and with it the license to rage. It’s our righteous way of justifying our lack of control, the legal cover for dehumanizing each other, and the permission to inflict ourselves upon those with whom we disagree under the guise of a supposed “justice.” Somewhere along the way the old ideas of pause, investigate, consider, and ponder before rushing to conclusions, especially emotional ones, slipped away from us only to be replaced by a well-oiled rage machine where masses can be manipulated by well-designed efforts to separate them from reasonable consideration, thoughtful discourse, and basic human respect. It is bipartisan. It is universal. And it is evil.
The only way its power can be broken is for individual people to make the day-to-day choices not to become angry just because someone told them to be. You, and I, and we have to make constant daily decisions to not dehumanize whatever “other” is connected to our lives and we have to have the eyes to see that sometimes when we think we’re full of righteous anger we’re actually just being played. In a world where emotion is the final and ultimate measure of truth and feelings define the essence of things this will require a great unlearning of that which a generation of us have been taught about the world.
But if we don’t, our world will burn and every one of us with it.
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Homily – Christmas Eve – 2025
I remember quite vividly the foyer of our house in Wausau, a place now 50 years in the past. And I could tell you with some detail where the tree would be and what we would do on Christmas Eve. First supper, and then the fastest post meal cleanup of the year followed by the opening of presents. On days like today those kinds of memories come flooding back, a combination of joy and melancholy flavored with the realization of the too quickly passing years.
There are some disadvantages about growing older. You realize there’s more behind than ahead and the unrecoverable parts of your past can come roaring back, things you wish you could’ve or should’ve been or done or said. High school classmates are increasingly found in the obituaries and the face in the mirror starts looking like those old people you knew when you were a kid.
And the body starts acting up in ways that are simultaneously novel, disappointing, and sometimes just plain funny. I remember doing things back then that would probably give me a heart attack now and every so often I discover the existence of new parts and places in this mortal coil only when they start to act up and I have to laugh because its better than crying.
There are some significant advantages, though, that should also be mentioned.
You learn stuff along the way. The combination of growing intelligence and hard experience over the years really does provide a wisdom and time, if properly applied, can grind the hard edges from your life and personality. Age really can make a difference both in wine and in people if you let it do its work and there’s reason older folks often forsake the intensity of earlier days for a kind of patience and resolve with the world that only time seems able to create. Things new and frightening to youth seem different from the perspective of passing years and the experiences of making it through so many moments when the world tried its best to make you angry, frustrated, or frightened.
And, even as I still struggle, how I wish I had the faith I have now when I was just a kid!
The best part of being older is that, if you take an honest look at it, you can as a person of Christian faith see and recall all the various times of your life when our Lord has truly been Imanuel, God with us. Beyond any regrets from the past, you can also see how God has sustained, nurtured, protected, and cared for you. It’s not that you didn’t have nicks or dings or struggles or sins but rather that God in His mercy never let you out of His sight and helped you along even when you weren’t necessarily interested in Him.
And from my position as a person of 65 Christmases and counting I want to remind you of a great truth that comes to us every year this season rolls around.
God saw the world and God everyone in it, including us, including me, from before time with a love that defies description and a grace beyond imagination. Every flaw in us and me and in the world was eternally open to Him. No secrets were hidden. Every darkness was exposed to light before God said “Let there be light…” at the dawn of existence. All the troubles of the present world were known to the One who sees all eternity in a single glance.
And when the time was right God chose not to exact punishment or inflict condemnation for all of it but rather to come to our rescue. All of our regrets and wishes and mistakes and struggles were given the option of solace. Every wrong inflicted on us us and everywhere we trespassed on others was not for His revenge but rather for forgiveness if we so chose to give and receive it. All of our untold secrets and bitter tears in the night, the places where we are most painful to the touch, can be soothed.
For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even forever. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.
And because of this we are not alone. We do not have to be given over to fear or regret or the pain of the world even if it reaches out to touch us or calls us to remembrance of those things that were but have been washed away in the sea of His grace. God came to us so long ago but, in truth, He has in one way or another never left. And while we’re not immune from the night of this world those who can see will realize there is a Light that shines as well, a Light the night can never overpower, a Light that lives in everyone who receives it.
Looking back I can see moments when the swirl of life and my own sinfulness and stupidity caught me up in the pain of everything around me. Sometimes I guess I just had to learn the hard way. Still, there are also many more places where, in times of reflection, I’ve seen that the God who came into the world on this holy night was also with me as well, preserving, helping, healing, and granting me grace even when I was convinced I was unworthy of it or actively ran away from it. If I can remember Christmas Eve’s decades ago I can even more recall from this place in my life those moments when the Child of Bethlehem came not just to the rescue of the world but mine as well. Every Priest has scars.
Yet, this is the gift I would like to leave with you today, especially those who’ve not traveled through time as far as I have. God is with us, always has been, and from those days long ago in Judea nothing has changed. The world can fling mighty arrows our way and even we ourselves can be caught up in self-harm but mercy and healing and grace have touched this sometimes sad and broken world and its ours for the taking, the greatest gift of all, eternal, unbreakable, in history but beyond its impact, ours now and also stored away where, as our Lord says, moth and rust have no power and no thief can steal it. Never forget this because the world is rough sometimes but not so rough that its escaped the grasp of the King who came to us as a baby and will one day return as the Lord of history.
A child, the Son of God, has been born. Receive Him. Believe Him. Love Him. Rest in Him. Let His forgiveness cleanse the past. Let His mercy flow from you to the world. And let love drive away every anxious moment, soothe every fear, forgive every wrong, and lead you safely Home.
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On the Road from Minnesota…
Born in Wisconsin, for decades my home was in Minnesota and traveling back now is about things both at once familiar and dislocated, sights and thoughts and places and people covered with the patina of memory.
Everything seems familiar and I navigate with ease yet the houses I lived in are lost to someone else, the locations I frequented are both known and distant, the jobs no longer exist and the friends have moved on with their lives largely unaware that we walked a ways together just a few years ago.
That’s how it’s supposed to be, really. Life is always moving, too quickly now it seems in my sixties, and nothing ever really stays the same even if I had never moved on myself. Yet there is, sometimes, a kind of melancholic longing that comes when old places are visited and those who walked with me for a while come back to mind.
Looking back, as the miles passed beneath my wheels, I regret only the hard years, the time between 17 and 20 when everything was in disarray. I regret the hurt I caused people when, like a wounded animal, I often bit the hand not just of the deserving but those who were trying to come to my rescue. That’s the only “do over” I would want and the thoughts of those days remain painful to me even as grace has found its way through cracks in the darkness. There are people I cannot say “sorry” to not from lack of desire but rather because it would just hurt them more to be reminded of me. All I have is a prayer that God would somehow bless them in a way greater than I infringed. Those days are why I rarely ever go by my old high school and yet they’ve given me the gift of humility even as they also helped make me a Priest out of gratitude for surviving them and a desire to do and be better in recompense.
Yet, driving back home through the western Wisconsin Driftless there’s also gratitude. Music was played. Good people traveled with me and shared my Minnesota days. I regret nothing of the work I did trying to make the lives of nursing home residents somewhat better for my service to them. There were good times and good people and moments I wish I could live over and over again. I made it to Africa four times and found the love of my life in that state’s far north. Even as it was time to go a part of my heart never completely left and probably never will. When my days are done I’ll go back there and await the resurrection in a country cemetery an hour or so from North Dakota.
Still, these “turn and burn” trips to where my family still reside are always a mixture and I guess they always will. Grateful for where I am I still mystically see the faces of those I left behind and feel that strange mixture of sadness and joy and regret and gratitude that seems to come from revisiting the places that once anchored my body and heart in the storms of time. As important as it is for me to be where I am it was also valuable for me to have been where I was, good, bad, ugly, and blessed. And as long as my folks are there I will also return. That is the way of things.
And it’s good, in all my travels, to remember that my true Home, by grace, still waits without melancholy and without the patina of memory or good or bad but only grace.
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On Fruitcake…
There are many who dislike fruitcake and the fault often lies in the recipe. Since I was a child our family has used a recipe for fruitcake that has passed the smell and taste test for many fruitcake agnostics. The recipe was given to us through family from Canada and the secret lies both in the ingredients and the process of construction which includes simmering the citrons (fruits) in a spicy broth that takes the bitterness away, replacing it with a sweet and aromatic goodness that often turns skeptics into believers.
Here’s the recipe. Makes two loaves.
Things you need to make it include: Two 9 x 5 x 3 inch bread pans either glass or metal. 1 large bowl. A spatula, Measuring cup (1 cup). Measuring spoons. Toothpicks and aluminum foil.
Directions: Bring to a boil for three minutes the following ingredients: 1 1/2 pounds of fruit cake fruit (citrons). 2 cups of water. 2 cups of dark brown sugar. 2 sticks of BUTTER. 2 cups raisins. 2 teaspoons of cinnamon. 1 teaspoon of nutmeg. 1/2 teaspoon of cloves.. 1/2 teaspoon of allspice. 1 tablespoon of salt. Set aside to cool to lukewarm with occasional stirring.
As the mixture is cooling combine 4 cups of white flour, 2 teaspoons of baking soda, 2 teaspoons of baking powder, and, if you wish, 1 and 1/2 cups of chopped walnuts.
When the liquid ingredients have become lukewarm mix wet and dry together and spoon in equal measures into aluminum foil lined bread pans. Bake for at least one hour at 350 degrees (F) and check for being done with a toothpick as you would a cake. You may need to extend the baking time to 1 hour 15 minutes if using a glass pan.
Wrap the loaves, when they cool, in aluminum foil and let rest for at least a week for best flavor.
From our family to yours over the years and generations!
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A Letter to the President…
Sent to the White House today…
Dear Mr. President,
Presidents lead in many ways and my encouragement, as a pastor and citizen, would be for you to seize the opportunity to lead in something so crucial to our country at the present moment, civility.
I know there are a lot of loud voices out there and I’m not one of them. I’m just the pastor of a medium sized church in Wisconsin that has seen my parishioners get caught up in the swirl of harsh words and angry feelings so typical of our American politics as of late and I see the weariness in their souls as the kinds of structures we so need to keep our country together have frayed under the stress of harsh political rhetoric and unchecked emotions.
Yes, we do need to make America great again, but we need to do that together and that means we have to find a way to build bridges and find common ground. If our political and social discourse has degraded to name calling and stereotypes so many truly important things will be left undone, things you would like to do as well, and this great American experiment will die not with a whimper but a scream.
I have a small pulpit, you have the largest one, the honor and office of President of our great nation. I pray for you always and all of our civil authorities as is common to my Orthodox Christian faith, and I truly wish God’s grace on everyone in political office. In that spirit I would encourage you to both lead and leave a legacy.
Take the initiative regardless of what others may say or do and speak nobly, honorably, and with words that would uplift us all, even those who may not agree with you. Someone has to be the first to be the better man, to take the higher road, and to do the work of unity and I believe you have that capability within you.
Then, in doing so, you’ll leave a legacy not of love/hate but rather of respect for both you and the office of President. We so need that again and 100 years from now when people look back on you and your legacy your determination to be a Christian gentleman in the best sense of that word could be just the gift you could leave to all of us, a legacy of being, in a time of verbal and social chaos, a leader, the one who’s love for country was expressed in calm, assured, and eloquent speech just at the time when things looked like they were going to fall apart.
Again, please be assured of my prayers for you and all of our civil authorities. Those prayers are not political or partisan but rather reflect a deep wish that God would grant wisdom, peace, and good judgement to everyone in political office and they’ll continue in both my personal and parish life as they have for centuries in our Orthodox Christian tradition.
May God grant you grace, peace, health, safety, and wisdom in both your personal and public life.
In Christ,
Fr John Chagnon
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The Christmas Lights…
outside my window are zany and beautiful and light up the encroaching darkness with a colorful resistance. I see them flowing in the wind and I remember what it was like as a child to drive through the night to see the decorations downtown and wind through the Wausau cold evening, face pressed up against the station wagon window, for the neighbor’s show.
I often measure my life in Christmases and although I sometimes feel my memory slip with the years I somehow remember details of those times long past as the old man staring back at me in the bathroom mirror drifts into childhood again and again. It’s a kind of curse to know what you know now without having the opportunity to relive what was good and amend where one should’ve known better. Too soon old we are and too late smart we become. Yet there is happiness as well.
I never wanted to completely grow up. I mean I had to to pay bills and do my work and have some kind of life but the whole idea of just leaving childhood somewhere back there forever just didn’t seem wise and certainly not fun. The clock is ticking and all my grade school friends are now grandparents, boy did that happen fast, and I know my days are numbered as well. Still, especially around Christmas, I wander back to those days and I can because I never completely closed the door on them. One of the best decisions I ever made.
There is a kind of refuge there for me, a certain magic. While each Christmas that passes reminds me of who has left us, how far away from home I seem to be, and the reality that one day I may be all alone around this time of year, I have a safety valve, an escape hatch.
Overwhelmed by the world. Aware of my responsibilities. Consumed with the care of others. I slip out, like a child quietly wandering through the house in the small hours, and travel back to days I can never recover but always seem to be just right around the corner. Gifts long land filled are fresh and new again. There is a kind of innocent happiness. All the old gang back in Wausau are alive and young and free of this weary world for a while. And I play without care for who is watching.
The busy season is ahead. Alms need to be given. Services need to be celebrated. The lonely and cold and aged and imprisoned need someone to help carry their load. This is life and I have no regrets. Still the lights are shining in the trees and bushes just outside my front window. The tree is lit and decorated. The snow will soon settle in over Sun Prairie and in small moments as real as the hand in front of my face I’ll fly back to different times, innocent days, and a world that seemed just a little while ago even as the calendar says otherwise.
Never grow so old that you lose your sense of wonder.
The Beautiful Path 