January 30, 2019

Getting Dressed

Several years ago I preached a sermon about the intersection of football and church. For those of you who have been paying attention, this is nothing new. I can't honestly remember the whole sermon, or what passage of scripture was the topic (but if I were to guess, I'd say it was 1 Cor. 12:12-31a). In that sermon I said that probably my favorite part of the game was the pregame locker room meeting.

It's during that time that the crew arrives. We come wearing different shirts, pants, and shoes. We come bringing different pieces of luggage packed in different ways. And then we begin dressing for the game. We all have our different routines. I always start with my t-shirt, then striped shirt, then my socks (left sock always first), then my compression shorts, then pants, then belt and buzzer, then shoes (left one first), and then flags, bags, whistles, down indicator, coin, penalty sheet, pen, and hat. Other officials have other routines; some of them very specific, some of them less so. But in the end, we who are many walk out onto the field together as one unified body. It's the best part of the game.

I happened to think about this last night as I was getting ready for Evening Prayer. I walked into the sacristy, pulled my vestments off the hangar, stepped into my cassock and buttoned it up. And as I was buttoning, my mind went back to that sermon about a bunch of guys coming together while looking very different, and then getting dressed into a particular uniform to become one.

There's something holy about this act of getting dressed. Every Sunday as I put on my microphone, alb, and stole, I am aware that I am about to partake in something holy and mysterious. Every Wednesday when I vest in alb and stole I am aware that I am about to partake in something holy and intimate. Every weekday that I vest in cassock, surplice, and tippet for Evening Prayer I am aware that I am about to partake in a holy and divine act.

Sometimes getting dressed is a mad, slapdash event because we overslept. Sometimes getting dressed involves choosing clothes to impress others or to bolster our own self-esteem. Sometimes getting dressed is an easy routine because we simply wear what's next in line. Sometimes getting dressed revolves around a special event, like a football game or Sunday morning.

How might we look at things differently if, when we got dressed, we were aware that we were about to partake in something mysterious, divine, and holy?

And there was evening, and there was morning, and God saw that it was good. This is the day the Lord has made; rejoice in it and be glad. Be careful how you live, giving thanks to God always. Rejoice in the Lord always.

Every day is a gift from God. As we get dressed, let us be aware that we are preparing to partake in the holy mystery that is our life in God.

Blessings

January 23, 2019

Mistakes

As fate would have it, both my vocation and avocation are in fields where people expect perfection from me from the moment I get dressed. From the time I put on my collar in the morning I am expected to be a paragon of virtue, with no vices, making no missteps, preparing to deliver perfect sermons that touch every person, and dealing with every crisis and circumstance with grace, dignity, and wisdom. From the moment I put on the stripes I am expected to be in perfect position to make every call correctly, properly enforce every foul, and deal with every irate coach, parent, and fan with grace, dignity, and wisdom.

This came to mind on Sunday while I was watching the Rams/Saints NFC Championship Game. Late in the game there was an obvious and egregious pass interference foul that was also a foul for targeting a defenseless player. And as I and millions of others watched it unfold, we waited for the flag to come. But this time there was no flag. Millions of people saw this play, and millions of people did not need slow-motion replay to determine if it was a foul. And yet, the two people who mattered the most, the Back Judge and Side Judge, somehow missed it.

I get it. This should not have happened. But people do make mistakes. Several years ago, MLB umpire Jim Joyce blew a call that wiped out a perfect game. When I was in Montana, the place that changed my oil forgot to put the oil cap back on, so I drove 90-some miles with oil spewing out of the engine. In a former job, a salesperson wrote down the wrong number and my company ended up delivering, and then re-ordering at no charge, some 100 office panels. Mistakes happen.

Those two officials (and maybe three if you include the Down Judge) will most likely be downgraded and kept out of the playoffs for a few years. They may or may not lose their jobs. They may need to seek counseling to deal with the emotional impact of that missed call in a business that generates billions of dollars, as well as the forthcoming hate mail they will receive.

Mistakes happen. Sometimes they are really big and have far-reaching consequences. As the person making the mistake: Will we own the mistake? Will we make appropriate apologies, amends, and/or penance? Will we come to forgive ourselves? Will we learn from the mistake?

Mistakes happen. As the person (or people) on the receiving end of the mistake: Will we recognize people are fallible? Are we willing to accept the apology? Can we come to a place of forgiveness? Or will we continue to hold a grudge and accept nothing less than revenge?

In the end, I wish I had thrown the flag for that illegal hit. I wish the New Orleans Saints had won the game. I hope those two or three officials aren't destroyed by this incident. I hope we learn.

Blessings

January 16, 2019

“Transformation begins with endings.” Peter L. Steinke, A Door Set Open: Grounding Change in Mission and Hope, p. 59

The bishop has us clergy types reading this book and then, at various times and places throughout the diocese, we're going to get together and discuss it. Nothing is as constant as change, and we seem to be living in rapidly changing times – culturally, religiously, environmentally, technologically, and probably any otherally you can think of. So we're reading this book to see what we might learn about and how we might deal with the changing landscape in our particular situations.

It's not a bad book, and I've found some nuggets in there – like the one above.

One of the positive things about change is that it reminds us we are alive. If you are a living organism, you are changing. This can be exciting: we change from crawling to walking to driving; we change from dependent to independent; we change in many and varied ways throughout our lives. And sometimes that change can feel like Easter morning – new and revitalized and full of life.

But the thing we need to remember is that when one door opens, another closes. When we move to independence, we forgo our dependence. When we move into a new phase, the old part is often left behind. When we are resurrected, we must have necessarily died. To get to Easter you have to go through Good Friday.

Change can be new and exciting, but if we focus only on the new and exciting change, if we focus only on the resurrection, we miss both the opportunity and crucial need to mourn and say goodbye. This is true of both people and institutions. We do this with people at funerals and memorials services. Even though we know life is changed, not ended, we need to take time to mourn and say goodbye.

It's a little trickier with institutions like the church. The church is full of people who want things to stay the same for ever and ever, or to at least remain like the church of their memories. But the church is also full of people who age and change over time and with people who come and go. It is a living organism; which then makes change inevitable.

Change will happen. Resurrection will happen. But let's not forget the value of mourning and saying goodbye to what was lost or left behind. Because it may be only in our ability to say goodbye that allows us to move forward.

Blessings,

January 9, 2019

Waaa Waaa Waaa

I belong to a variety of closed Facebook groups that are church focused. Two of them have discussions around the BCP, in particular around the rubrics and possible revision. One of them has discussions about the church in general, everything from liturgy to lay employees. One is dedicated to classical, creedal, Christian orthodoxy. And one of them is local, working to connect the clergy of the diocese.

When I first got connected to these groups, my initial thought was, “This will be fun and/or interesting since all of these people seem to have the same interests I do.”

That didn't last long as it turned out that most of the conversations descend rather quickly into a gripe-fest about everything wrong with the church and the people who inhabit it. They complain about clergy who break the rubrics. They complain about the people who wrote the rubrics. They complain about budgets that don't address what they see as important parts of the church. They complain about people who don't pledge. They complain about what people name their dogs. They complain about the people who complain about what people name their dogs (yes, really).

Waaa Waaa Waaa

It makes me wonder not only if there is anything good in the church, but why these people are even in the church at all.

Then I look at St. John's.

We have a variety of outreach programs. We have people who care about our liturgy. We have people whose volunteerism in many and varied ways make this place run. We have people who make working with the Vestry a joy. We have people who give of their time and talent, and do so joyfully. Things are not perfect, no place is, but the good far outweighs the bad.

When I read those posts, I can't help but wonder, “What would their job/parish/vestry/whatever look like if they spent as much time looking for and talking about the good as they do whining about what's wrong?”

The Epiphany season is upon us. Let us look for the good. Let us look for the light. Let us look for those God moments that can open our eyes and surprise us with joy. And instead of whining about what isn't right, let us joyfully proclaim what is good.

We are part of the church. Yea! Yea! Yea!

Blessings

January 2, 2019

Happy New Year

While I greeted everyone at church with, “Happy New Year!” back on December 2^nd as we moved into Advent and turned over the Church calendar to Year C, the rest of the world celebrated the arrival of the New Year on Monday evening/Tuesday morning. And whether you celebrated New Years by gathering downtown in the square to watch the donut drop, watched the apple or crystal ball drop at midnight, or lighted the first candle on the Advent wreath, a new year is here. And with that new year often comes new resolutions.

Those resolutions often revolve around being better in some way. A better diet. More exercise. Read more, watch TV less. Take a trip. I would be willing to bet that very few, if any, resolutions have to do with getting worse. But then again, watching the news certainly seems to indicate that some people are driven to do as much damage in the least amount of time as possible.

But let's stay positive here and go with the proposition that, generally speaking, people take this time of year to make resolutions that help them get better.

Joelene and I purchased a new-to-us elliptical exercise thingy. You know the drill – less impact, more calories, improved cardiovascular health. I'm considering selling 50/50 tickets at coffee hour to see how long it takes before that machine becomes an expensive clothes hanger. But we'll see.

I say that tongue-in-cheek, but there's a grain of truth to it. People start with good intentions but then those intentions begin to slip away as the tide of life slowly, but surely, rolls on.

Next Sunday, January 13, is the First Sunday after the Epiphany, and is marked as the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord. This is one of the five appointed days listed as appropriate for baptisms or renewal of vows, and we will be renewing our baptismal vows at both services.

In a way our baptism is like a New Years resolution. We (or people on our behalf) resolve to be better people in the future. We promise to make positive changes that will help with our overall health and the health of the world around us. But like those exercise machine that eventually collect clothes and/or dust, or the gym memberships whose most frequent exercise involves transferring monthly fees to the gym, our baptismal vows also fall by the wayside.

This is why we renew our vows so often. We don't only do this once a year in a mad dash to make everything right overnight; we do it four or five times a year in order to remind us of what we resolved to do and, hopefully, help shape us into the type of person we want to be.

This year I resolve to continue in the fellowship and prayers. This year I resolve to resist evil. This year I resolve to proclaim the Good News of God in Christ. This year I resolve to love all persons as I love myself. This year I resolve to strive for justice.

And if I find those resolutions hanging on an unused exercise machine, I'll again remind myself of what I'm supposed to be doing on June 9.

Blessings,