November 29, 2017

Creation is not so much an event that took place at the beginning as a process initiated then and completed by the age to come – Rowan A. Greer, quoted in “Blessed Are the Image-Bearers: Gregory of Nyssa and the Beatitudes,” Rebekah Eklund, The Anglican Theological Review, Fall 2017.

We are in the last week of Ordinary Time, the Season after Pentecost. This coming Sunday is the First Sunday of Advent, marking the beginning of a new year on the Church calendar. It also marks the beginning of the season of waiting, of hopeful expectation, of looking forward to the coming of Christ while looking back to his birth.

In Bethlehem, God participated in the miracle of birth. This incarnational event was the result of God's active participation in the very human event of creating a new life.

As we look back to both the beginning and back to the first coming of Jesus we can see the hand of God at work. “In the beginning, God said, 'Let there be light.' And there was.” In the beginning there was a child born to a homeless couple in the shelter of an animal stall. Yet neither of these events were the last word of creation.

As Paul wrote in Romans, “We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now.” All of creation is moving toward its fulfillment on the last day. In Advent, we wait expectantly and hopefully for that last day, while also participating in the ongoing movement of creation.

How would our perspective on creation – both the creation of the physical world around us and ourselves as created beings – change if we saw creation not as a one-and-done event, but as an ongoing process that leads to the ultimate fulfillment of God's purpose on the last day? How would our perspective on creation change if we saw ourselves as active participants in God's creation rather than as consumers using what God had already produced?

This Advent, may you see the world around you in a new way. This Advent, may you see the world around you as the unfinished story of creation that you are helping to write.

Blessings,

November 22, 2017

Silence is golden – ancient proverb

This old proverb was on my mind most of last week as I struggled with a bout of laryngitis. But as I struggled to talk, as I entered into a period of self-imposed silence, and as I looked for creative ways to communicate, I began to wonder if this old proverb was correct . . . was silence golden?

For those who know me well, you know that I tend to lean toward the introvert side of the scale. My motto for conversations could very well be, “Why use ten words when one will do?” And silence is less often awkward than it is a respite from trying to think of things to say.

But even I was having difficulty with the loss of my voice and the inability to speak. It seemed that during this time silence wasn't golden as much as it seemed to be a millstone around my neck.

What was it that made silence golden as opposed to annoying?

When the work crew that has been jack-hammering and digging and hauling outside your window all day suddenly stops, the overwhelming silence that follows is golden. When the neighbor's dog finally stops barking, silence is golden. When you walk into a quiet house after a long commute, silence is golden. When you sit with a good friend or your beloved without saying a word but are happy to be in their presence, silence is golden. When you spend time with God in quiet prayer, silence is golden. When you have the wherewithal to not respond in kind to verbal attacks, silence is golden.

But silence is not golden for the child placed in a timeout. Silence is not golden for people who have been shunned by their community. Silence is not golden for the person who is not allowed to voice personal concerns. Silence is not golden for abuse victims who are forced to remain silent out of fear.

As with anything, I suppose, whether silence is golden or not all depends on the context.

With Advent a week and a half away, and with its focus on slowing down and waiting, spend some time looking for the silent places in your life – when do you have silence thrust upon you and when do you intentionally become silent?

And if you don't have enough times of silence in your life, work to carve out some silent time in an otherwise hectic and noisy world. Sit, pray, think, and notice what you may have been missing. Hopefully it will be in those times that you will indeed find that silence is golden.

Blessings,

November 15, 2017

At least five women have come forward to state that they were victims of sexual misconduct by Roy Moore, Republican Senate candidate and Alabama Chief Justice, while they were teenagers and he was an adult. He was also, according to reports, well-known for trying to pick up teenage girls at an Alabama mall, from which he was apparently banned.

“Mary was a teenager and Joseph was an adult carpenter.” – Jim Zeigler, Alabama state auditor, in defense of Roy Moore.

This is the current abuse scandal making its way through the news cycle. A few weeks ago it was Harvey Weinstein. President Trump has openly bragged about how he has treated women in the past. President Bill Clinton was brought up on charges of sexual misconduct. President Kennedy was a womanizer. Comedian CK Louis was recently accused of sexual misconduct, as was Kevin Spacey. The list, unfortunately, goes on and on and on and on and on.

That list knows no party affiliations or boundaries. It infiltrates faith communities, crossing denominational and religious lines. It includes rich and poor alike. It doesn't discriminate by sexual orientation. And, although much lower in numbers, it also crosses gender lines where men are the victims of abuse at the hands of women.

Abuse, sexual or otherwise, is based on power – who has it and who doesn't. And the only way we can begin to curb this problem is to make victims feel safe, to make reporting it normative, to publicly call out and prosecute abusers, to stop using religion and faith as behavioral excuses, and to stop making victims feel responsible for the actions of the abuser.

Our faith tells us we are not to abuse widows or orphans. Our faith calls us to care for and protect the most vulnerable of our society. Our baptismal creed mandates – MANDATES – that we love our neighbors as ourselves and that we respect the dignity of every human being.

Abuse is neither a sign of love or of respect. Preying on vulnerable people in order to satisfy personal urges, or simply because we can, is wrong, illegal, and antichrist.

How much better would we be if our “deeply held religious beliefs” caused us to work for the safety and care of those in vulnerable positions rather than driving us to fight for the right to discriminate and abuse all while hanging the 10 Commandments on a courtroom wall?

Blessings,

November 8, 2017

In the words of Kool and the Gang . . . “Celebrate good times!”

This past Sunday was All Saints' Sunday, the day we transferred the celebration of All Saints' Day to the Sunday following (the only major feast on a fixed day that can be moved like that). And we celebrated.

We celebrated the lives of the saints who have gone before us and with whom we are knit together in the communion and fellowship in the mystical body of Christ our Lord.

We celebrated the lives of loved ones who died this past year as we remembered them by name in the opening procession.

We celebrated and renewed our baptismal vows.

We celebrated one year together as parish and priest.

And we closed out the day with the celebration of our annual Choral Evensong service.

It was a good day. It has been a good year. None of it has been perfect, but it has been good. And good is good; after all, God ended creation on a good note.

On this Wednesday, I simply want to say thank you to everyone who helped make all of those celebrations possible. Thank you to everyone who participated. Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy anniversary. Thank you to everyone who has offered prayers, support, and kindness over this past year. You have been a blessing in more ways than you can possibly know.

As I said in the sermon, I am proud to be a part of this congregation. I am grateful to be your priest. I am thankful for all you do as ministers of the church and saints of God.

It has been a good year, and I look forward to celebrating many more with you.

Blessings,

Sermon; All Saints' Sunday 2017; Year A

Today marks the one-year anniversary of my first Sunday at St. John's, of my first experience of this congregation at worship, and of your first experience of me as the incoming Rector of this parish. I say it this way intentionally because the role of rector is position-based, while the role of priest is relational-based. One year ago I did not arrive as your new priest, I arrived as your new rector. And I say it that way because any fool with a degree can be a rector, but it takes a special kind of fool to be a priest.

A rector is defined within the Constitution and Canons as a person elected to have full authority and responsibility for the conduct of worship and the spiritual jurisdiction of the Parish, subject to the Rubrics of the Book of Common Prayer, the Constitution and Canons of this Church, and the pastoral direction of the Bishop.

The Rector shall also at all times be entitled to the use and control of the Church and Parish buildings, together with all appurtenances (that means, “accessory;” I had to look it up) and furniture, and have access to all records and registers maintained by or on behalf of the congregation for the purposes of all functions and duties pertaining thereto.

In other words, it is a necessary position in this church so that we can function as a church. You don't necessarily need ME as much as you need the position.

A priest, though, is something different. A priest is one who is called to not only proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but is one who will love and serve the people among whom the priest works, caring alike for young and old, strong and weak, rich and poor. A priest is to preach, to declare God's forgiveness to penitent sinners, to pronounce God's blessing, to share in the celebration of the Holy Mysteries, and to perform other ministrations entrusted to him or her.

During the course of 2015 and 2016 the parish and Search Team did their due diligence and decided that a guy from Oregon should be the 28^th Rector of St. John's Parish. And I'm sure they hoped that I would become your next priest. Of course, they may not have known there was a difference; but maybe they did. That search ended with an offered and accepted call, a cross country move, arriving in the office on November 1, and our first worship experience together on All Saints' Sunday.

Over this past year I have officiated at several funerals, baptized three children, led one confirmation class, and officiated at one wedding. I have tweaked the Sunday liturgy and I have added daily Evening Prayer. Which reminds me, tonight is the annual solemn Evensong service at 5 and you are all welcome to come back and worship again in that ancient service. I have made uncounted hospital visits, dropped in at homes both announced and unannounced, called people on birthdays and anniversaries, Rambled 13 or 14 times, and generated 52-ish Wednesday Words. Some of this I got right, some of it I've gotten wrong, but I've always tried to give it my best shot.

There are other things that have happened over this past year that we have shared and which we may or may not remember, but the point to all of this is that being your priest is much more than being the Rector of St. John's. As I said, it takes a special kind of fool to be a priest; and Mrs. Ref, The Kid, and I were probably more than a little foolish when we agreed to live on the other side of the country. But it has been good, there have been no regrets, and I will be happy to continue to be considered your fool.

I've touched on a few things about this past year, but it's important for you to know that the three of us have enjoyed getting to know the area, the people of this parish, and people in other walks of life. The Kid found a job, has met some people, and made a few friends along the way. Mrs. Ref also found a job and is making friends in and around church. I, as you know, got hooked up with the local officiating group and have spent the fall working games with a good bunch of guys. And, most importantly, I'm getting to know you all better every day.

One way this “getting to know you” manifests itself is at the Communion rail. I realize that I can now call most of you by name without seeing your name tag (that doesn't mean you can stop wearing them). But I'm also learning more about you in deeper ways. As I move down the rail I know who has been sick and or hospitalized, who is having family difficulties, who has been hit with tragedy, who is experiencing good times, who has just received a blessing, who is happy, and who is sad. I carry all of these joys, sadnesses, trials, tribulations, celebrations, and sometimes more, with me every day. And on Sunday morning I see all of this played out at the Communion rail.

It can be a burden, yes, but it is also an honor and blessing to be let into your lives in such a way. This is the role of a priest. If you want a visible symbol of that role and of the office of priest, look at the stole. The stole is used to wrap the hands of newlyweds at the marriage blessing. The stole is used to cover the sins of the penitent. The stole is worn like a yoke. So when Jesus said, “my yoke is easy and my burden is light,” the stole is the visible symbol of what he meant.

But it is not only personal, family, or spiritual issues that identify you to me; it is also what you offer to the life of St. John's. When I move down the Communion rail I also see fellow ministers who feed the hungry, visit the sick, show hospitality, sing out joyfully, help to maintain this beautiful house of worship, and so much more. We are, all of us, the ministers of St. John's Parish and the face of God in this place.

We are all in this together, you and I. We all stand with, support, and encourage one another. We are not only the face of God in this place, but we are also the physical representation of all the saints of the faith, of those who came before and of those who will come after. As the Collect says, “We have been knit together in one fellowship in the mystical body of Christ our Lord.”

And today this brings up a question: Who are the saints of God? Well, you could look at our opening hymn – one was a doctor, one was a queen, one was a soldier, and one was slain by a fierce wild priest. You could also run down a list of them: Ambrose, Benedict, Cecilia, Francis, Hilda, Julian, Laurence, Perpetua, Polycarp, Peter, Andrew, James, John, and more. Great people of the faith who dedicated and sometimes lost their lives for the sake of Christ.

A friend of mine who is also a priest and a USAF chaplain had a quote up on his Facebook page in honor of All Saints' Day. It's a quote by Br. Robert L'Esperance, SSJE, and it gives one of the best definitions of a saint that I've seen:

Saints were men and women who understood the challenges of living the

gospel in the context of their own places and times. They are remembered

because they lived it with imagination and devotion. They used what they

had been given to live their lives into the freedom of the kingdom.

Men and women who understood the challenges of living the gospel in the context of their own places and times. I would like to think that is us.

We have particular challenges facing us today in the living out of the gospel that weren't there 25, 50, 100, or even 10 years ago. Our challenges today will not be the challenges of our children. What are some of those challenges facing us today?

In the midst of the pledge drive, Fred would want me to mention finances. But that is always the case. What other challenges do we face?

Some challenges include: How do we effectively communicate with people who live within our sphere of influence? Do we know what God wants us to do? How are we spending our time? Do we have an adequate level of outreach? Do our neighbors know we are here? Do we offer deep, meaningful worship? Do we offer worship other than Sunday morning? What is not our Average Sunday Attendance, but what is our Average Weekly Impact?

These are some of the challenges facing us today. Are we up to the task? Are we ready to live as a saint of God in today's world? To co-opt and paraphrase a lyric from Sir Paul, “I look around me and I hope that it's really so.”

Over the past year we have come to know each other a little more deeply. Over the past year I hope I have come to be seen not just as the 28^th Rector of St. John's Parish but as your priest. Over the past year I have hoped and prayed that this trend will continue for many more years.

This is a holy and good place that I'm proud to be a part of. This is a holy and good place that my family is happy to call home. This is a place that is learning to live life as a saint of God.

And really, that's what the celebration of All Saints' is all about: Remembering that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses and remembering that we have been knit together in one fellowship in the mystical body of Christ our Lord.

Today we celebrate All Saints' Day. We remember those who came before and those who are among us now. We are all saints of God. Let us face our challenges together, let us live with imagination and devotion, let us live our lives into the freedom of the kingdom, and let us never forget that we all bear the image of Christ on our souls and that we are God's representatives and messengers here and now.

Amen.

November 1, 2016

Our pledge presentations continue this week as we hear from Steve A. about his experience with St. John's and why he pledges.

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Good Morning, Family.

Our journey with the Episcopal Church started 5 years ago in a rural town in Southeastern Indiana.  We were invited by a friend to attend a presentation hosted by PFlag on the LGBT community and religion.  I shared my story of being told by a church when I was 13 years old to wear a rubber band around my wrist and that every time I thought about someone of the same gender I should pull the rubber band away from my wrist as far as I could and let it snap back to help break me of this habit.  I told other stories of rejection I experienced in the church growing up as well and that I had not attended a church for over 25 years due to this rejection. 

The lady sitting in front of us was the rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Madison, IN, and she turned around with tears in her eyes, handed us a business card and said, “You are welcome at our church."  This was said with such love and acceptance and genuineness that we went to church there that Sunday.  We were confirmed a year later with a group of people that included a lesbian couple and a transgendered woman who cried when the Bishop laid hands on her head.  This was rural Southeast Indiana.  The healing we experienced by being welcomed into a faith community was transformative beyond words. Being in a church as myself was something I had never experienced before and missed it more than I knew. 

When we left Madison and moved to Hagerstown, we were sure we could never have that experience again.  Kyle coined a term for this fear called, “Parish relocation anxiety” and we talked on the phone with our rector as she encouraged us to try the local Episcopal church.  Three years ago we walked though those doors and, almost as soon as our back sides hit the pew, Sara Ann and Will  appeared out of nowhere and the welcomed us with love.  They took us all over town to show us the best restaurants, Krumpe’s Donuts, and made sure we knew where to go to get what we needed.  They welcomed us to this church and to the community.  In an instant, the love we felt in Indiana was multiplied ten-fold.  What a God we have!  This was truly a place of love and kindness.  The liturgy here continues to bring me to tears at times.  The choirs and this magnificent organ are beyond beautiful and choke me up every Sunday.  We love this place.  As I look out today, I see some of the best friends we ever had.  I can’t tell you what that means to us. 

But that welcome, love, healing, and grace shown to us these past five years was just the beginning for me.  I found quickly that what I received, beyond measure, only multiplies exponentially as it is given away.  So, quickly, my work as a psychologist had new meaning and almost limitless joy.  Working on the search committee and watching God bring Father Todd, Joelene, and Cece to be part of this grand cause was a breath-taking and joyous experience for me.  Giving time, treasure, and talent with you, together, as a family, through love, has been the most beautiful experience of my life.

Someone reached out and connected with me, with love, and that love and grace changes lives.

While we all are different and arrived here today from different places and experiences and backgrounds, we move forward together as a family by reaching out to others and working together to share this most beautiful of gifts with all.

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Thank you, Steve, for your words this past Sunday to all who were present, and thank you for allowing us to publish them to a wider audience.