Good News?

It has been two weeks since I last posted here, though my blog entries at the St. Edward's blog have been many and varied over that period of time. It has also been nearly two weeks since the massive earthquake in Haiti, where much of the world's, the church's, and my attention has been over these last several days. Refreshingly, we in the Episcopal Church have been diverted from our seeming obsession with sexuality to a much more productive obsession--figuring our what we can do for the people of Haiti and discovering, sometimes for the first time, the things that the Episcopal Church has been up to in Haiti and continues to be up to.

I must say that it is a huge challenge to preach to a congregation like St. Edward's while people are literally dying every second in the streets and crumbled buildings of Haiti. Tomorrow morning I'll get in my hybrid car, drive down a well-paved and well-traveled road for 40 minutes, and arrive at a church in a relatively well off area, in fact just blocks from a very exclusive part of Los Gatos. I will lead worship in a beautiful church building with nice grounds around it, and we'll have coffee and cookies outside the front door (or inside, if it is too cold). At the same time, my fellow Episcopalians in Haiti will have already awakened to yet another day of hardship, wondering where their next meal will come from (or even if they'll have a next meal anytime soon) and simply attempting to survive for the day until they (hopefully) fall into an exhausted sleep. Frankly, anything I could possibly say from the pulpit of a comparatively well-off church seems woefully inadequate!

And yet, as I ponder again the lessons appointed for tomorrow, I also run across the collect appointed for the day:

Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation, that we and the whole world may perceive the glory of his marvelous works; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

I'm pretty sure I know what "Good News" and "salvation" look like in the streets of Haiti--people being pulled from rubble, finding friends and family alive, and finding a relatively safe place to sleep, a bit of food and water, and possibly some relief from the mid-80 degree heat and humidity. Nothing more complicated than that: food, shelter, life. What does "the Good News of [Jesus'] salvation" mean to me and to the people entrusted to my spiritual care? What should it mean?

The answer, at least as far as I can tell, is summed up in one word: transformation. For those who literally have nothing, very simple things can be transformational. For those of us who have more, transformation looks a bit more complicated. If you want to know what I say tomorrow about transformation, head on over to the St. Edward's blog on Monday or Tuesday. I should have something more to say then.

Sealed and Marked

"You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own forever."

These words are those that I and other Episcopal priests use as we mark a cross with holy oil on the forehead of a person just baptized. It is a powerful statement! The newly baptized person has essentially been branded (or tattooed?) with the sign of the cross, a sign that while physically invisible is also permanent. We believe that we are "Christ's own forever" by virtue of that baptism and sealing.

I'm thinking a lot about baptism because I am preaching tomorrow on the baptism of Jesus (the feast day of the "Baptism of Our Lord", to be specific) and thinking about what it means to be baptized. Much as no one remembers the day they were born (which is probably fortunate...), those of us who were baptized as infants don't remember what might be regarded as our "second birth." So our identity does not proceed from a remembered event but from an emotional affirmation of an affirmed theological and spiritual reality. What, then, does it mean to be baptized and, more personally, what does it mean for me that I am baptized?

I think it means at least three things, both theologically and personally, for me. First, it means that I am inexorably linked with God--I am "marked as Christ's own forever." The covenant of God is not one that can be voided, it is eternal. So even in the midst of the trails and tribulations of this mortal life, I can know that I am linked with God as a beloved child of God. That identity is a precious thing it a world that seeks to define us in a host of lessor ways. We are classified by our public roles as constituents, consumers, and taxpayers. We are evaluated by "what we do" in our jobs as doctors, lawyers, priests, salespeople, cashiers, managers, students, etc... We are evaluated by our family roles as parents of our children, children of our parents, and sometimes even parents of our parents in their old age. We can even by typecast by surface things such as race, body type, clothing choices, or even hairstyle. None of these ways of categorizing or judging ourselves and others reveals our most important, most lasting, but most hidden identity as baptized children of God.

Second, it means that I am linked to a worldwide community of faith that is currently locally manifested in the various people in the pews of my local congregation at St. Edward's. Perhaps the most powerful call to ordination for me was the call to form and facilitate such local faith communities, parts of the Body of Christ. I have been both supported and challenged in various ways by them--from youth groups to college groups to the church family at my home church (Christ Church, Los Altos) to classmates at the seminary I attended (VTS) to the various parishes I have served--all have served to teach me what it is to be a disciple of Jesus Christ and support me in that effort. In a world of both increasing personal isolation and yet more and more ways of connecting to one another across thousands of miles via email, Twitter, Facebook, etc... such personal relationships are more and more tenuous and yet more and more critical.

Third, it means to that I am empowered and enabled to live as a disciple of Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit living in and through me. This is perhaps the most difficult of things to articulate. It is comparatively easy to claim my identity as a child of God and a part of the church, but how does one put into words something so ethereal and yet so central to my own life and ministry. I suppose the answer to that is that I cannot put it into words but only put it into actions. How I function as a Christian, how I care for myself and others, and how I exercise my gifts and talents in service to God in the world perhaps embody more than anything else the often unseen work of the Spirit within me. Hopefully my own human failings don't get in the way of the Spirit's work too often!

So, that is a bit of what I'm likely to reflect upon in my sermon tomorrow--being a child of God, a member of the Christian community called the church, and an agent of the Spirit. Come on by and join us!

Great Music, Great Message

As we begin to wind down the season of Advent, I ran across the following video for Canticle of the Turning, one of my favorite worship songs. It is one of my favorites both because I love Celtic music and because of the words. Is the world about to turn do you think?

Two-track Blogging and A Suffragan Bishop

I began this blog more than two and a half years ago in March 2007 and used it in earnest during my Sabbatical in the summer or 2007. Since then, like other things, it has been busier at some times than other times. Recently, however, any readers may have noticed a drop-off of the frequency of postings. The reason for this is that I began a parish blog for St. Edward's church, where I now serve as Priest-in-Charge. I try to post there at least once a week, usually on Sunday or Monday, with a perspective on the sermon I've just preached or other items of interest. Trying to keep up the frequency of posting on that blog has meant a lack of posts on this one. However, time is not the only factor here. When this was my only blog, I freely mixed personal and parish news and interest items. Now that I have separate personal and parish blogs, I often find it hard to think about what to blog about personally that does not have anything directly to do with my parish.

That being said, there is plenty swirling around Episcopal/Anglican-land these days. With the election of The Rev. Canon Mary Glasspool as one of two Suffragan Bishops in Los Angeles. As I have several partnered gay friends (several who have been together longer than my wife and I have) I am hardly unsympathetic to the continuing quest for GLBT rights. However, I do get tired of looking beyond my parish boarders and seeing a church that seems to provide innumerable opportunities for people to take verbal shots at us. The rhetoric on both sides is as amazing as it is predicable. Frankly, I have better things to do than to get involved in the same old arguements about the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion. For now, back to cleaning my office and starting to think about a sermon for Sunday.

Update (12/9/09):
Canon Glasspool gave a very good brief video interview to the Baltimore Sun in which she asserts that she is "hardly the most liberal person" in the Episcopal Church.



That squares with my experience of my GLBT brothers and sisters--they are all over the map theologically. Hopefully, we can agree to disagree about a great many things and still come together in the name of Jesus around the Eucharistic table. The only reason not to receive communion with others with whom you disagree is because you consider yourself unprepared to receive, not because you consider others unprepared, or even unworthy. Look it up!

Thanks-giving

There are many, many reflections on Thanksgiving Day on the various blogs, including a particularly good one on the real tradition behind the holiday at Irenic Thoughts, the blog of King of Peace, Kingsland, GA. I am personally thankful to be much closer to my parents this year--driving for an hour and a half to be with them beats having them drive for twelve hours to be with us! I'm also thankful for the parish I now serve, St. Edward's in San Jose, California. Frankly, given the current economy, I'm thankful to have a job at all, much less one that I love.

It occurs to me that the message of Thanksgiving is nearly the opposite of the message of the day after Thanksgiving, otherwise known as the holy grail of retail: black Friday. By the end of today, most of us will be full--full of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, etc... Even if we were presented with a fabulous feast, we wouldn't want it--we are already full. Similarly, if we are thankfull--full of thanks--we can be presented with a ton of fabulous offers, wants masquerading as needs, special deals, and wonderful items and yet still say "I'm full." We can then easily move to thanks-giving--giving to others who have less than we do. After all, if we're full, where would we put anything else? It's pretty easy to give when you're "full."

This coming Sunday, I'll be talking in my sermon about a relatively new tradition called the Advent Conspiracy. This tradition uses the liturgical season of Advent to focus people on the true meaning of the Christmas season which we prepare to celebrate--God giving himself to us in the person of Jesus Christ. Perhaps if we're feeling full enough of thanks, we might then be easily able to turn and give to others not just money, or things, but ourselves. Check it out:



Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

This is NOT Your Grandmother's Episcopal Church (but she's welcome, too...)

It's becoming more and more apparent that the institutional church, specifically the powers-that-be in my own beloved Episcopal Church, don't really get it. Their version of a national advertising campaign features the following cutting edge ad (my tongue planted firmly in cheek):



Contrast that ad, which probably involved hours and hours of conceptual work and much money for both design and publication, with this ad from Pastor, Priest, and self-proclaimed Art Director Frank Logue, which likely took a few hours or less:

Where do I start? The contrast is stark: word-based vs. image-based, service-based vs. doctrine-based, edgy vs. corporate. I could go on. The last straw for me was the note on the " ad collaborative" page that said that "if you wish to customize it with your own church's address and/or web address, email...to provide the information." So, in an age of desktop publishing, Photoshop, and easy multimedia programs, we're supposed to email information to a central office and have someone else put it into the ad (no doubt at the preselected spot) for us?

Perhaps I'm just a grumpy Generation Xer, but I'm finding more and more of this sort of corporate thinking that simply rubs me the wrong way. Are we a corporate giant that simply puts out the blue and red shield and expects that people will instantly recognize the brand and beat a path to our door, or are we a living, breathing part of the Body of Christ that is active in service to the world and in "working, praying, and giving for the spread of the Kingdom of God" (from the Parochial Report form, no less!)? The USA Today Ad says the former, the ad from Frank says the latter.

Perhaps more scary for me is that, for far too many churches in TEC, this really is my grandmother's church: run from a central office in New York, staid, word-based, corporate. That is not a very attractive church for me. Don't get me wrong--I love the liturgy, the depth, and the spirituality of the Episcopal Church. What I don't love is that the face we too often present to the world is that of a declining church that has beautiful buildings and baubles but not a clue about what those outside our walls are needing, even desperate for, though they may not know it. My frustration is that the church seems to fail repeatedly to take advantage of the technologies and tools available to it to get our message out while simultaneously failing to engage the world that embraces such technologies. There are many, many exceptions (take Holy Apostles in NYC, where the ad picture comes from, for instance) but too often they fly under the radar. Let us (and I'm speaking to myself as well) embrace tools for delivering our message and make sure that it is relevant, faithful to our core values, and able to cut through the maelstrom of information with which we are constantly bombarded. And then let us live that message!

Memo to Episcopal Church Center: If you really want to be helpful, put together a toolkit, complete with submissions of ads like this one, and don't bother spending dollars you don't have on ad agencies or marketing experts. Those were the same folks who brought us the ill-fated "The Episcopal Church: We're here for you..." branding campaign. Give folks the tools, maybe even run an ad contest, and get out of the way.

But that's just my thinking....

From Our Fears and Sins Release Us

Come thou long-expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
-- Hymn 66, Charles Wesley (Hymnal 1982)

I am begining to think about the holidays (Starbucks is already in full Christmas mode), about Thanksgiving, the "Christmas season" (not the liturgical one, the commercial one), Christmas, and "post-Christmas." As I do so, I am more and more conscious that the words above very much describe our current human condition just as much as they did over 200 years ago when they were written. There is fear, sin, and woundedness all around us and within us. There are bright lights, turkeys (some on the table and some at the table!), and an almost forced festivity that is at odds with the mood of people in a country crawling out of the Great Recession, insanely busy, and, it seems, completely bound and even enslaved to sin and fear.

In the midst of that, the church invites us to enter the season of Advent. As one Advent bidding says:

As we enter, eager and expectant, into the season of Advent, let us in prayer and praise, thanksgiving and song, give voice to the hope set forth in teh Secriptures, that Christ's reign of love and light will indeed come among us. Let us offer ourselves anew as witnesses to the advent of Christs glory, seeking to bring Christs light and love to those who sit in darkness.

That invitation to hope is not an invitation to some sort of plastic, fake, enforced cheerfulness, but an invition to stop, listen, and set our hope on Christ.

May God give us the grace and strength to look beyond the glitter of store windows and Christmas lights to the true Light that is coming into the world once again....