“Where is God in all this?”
Everyone everywhere in the midst of a tragedy
Bombings, shootings, buildings collapsing, terrorist attacks, sudden deaths, crashes and accidents of all kinds always bring out questions about the presence (or lack thereof) of God.
If God were a loving God, why would he let this happen? If God really is omnipotent, couldn't he have stopped this from happening? What did I do wrong that God is punishing me? All these questions and more surface when we are faced with a tragedy or loss of some kind.
And while it's easy to proclaim belief in an all-loving, omnipotent and omnipresent God who allows us to exercise our free will when things are going well, that seems to get more difficult or more complicated when things don't go our way or when disaster strikes. We want to hold to certain tenets of the faith as long as God doesn't get in the way, while also wanting to be engulfed in holy bubble-wrap to keep us from harm when things go wrong.
But that, unfortunately, is not how it works. God does not surround us with holy bubble-wrap. God does not step in and alter the course of bad or hateful decisions. God does not, generally speaking, suddenly and magically “make everything better.”
If God doesn't do any of those things, then we are back to the original question: Where is God in all this?
As Christians, we believe that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ. This is an amazingly bold statement of belief: that the eternal, omnipotent, Creator of everything chose to humble himself and dwell with us as a fellow human being. But this can also be amazingly comforting when we realize that God Almighty chose to dwell with us as a fellow human being. It means that our suffering has become God's suffering. It means that our tragedies have become God's tragedies. It means that our joys have become God's joys. Our struggles and accomplishments are God's struggles and accomplishments. This is all reflected in Matthew's interpretation of Isaiah 7:14 when he writes, “ . . . 'and they shall name him Emmanuel,' which means, 'God is with us'.”
This question of where is God has been on my mind recently with the news of Dan Collins. On Monday afternoon he had the misfortune of falling down a flight of stairs resulting in eight broken ribs, a collapsed lung and lacerated spleen and liver. He was transported to the hospital in Tahoe and then airlifted to the Reno trauma center where he spent the past few days in ICU. Dan, apparently, could have benefited from holy bubble-wrap.
Where is God in all this? God is with the medics, nurses and doctors who have cared, and are caring, for Dan. God is with those who minister to Joan while in Reno. God is with Fr. John Seville, the interim rector at Trinity Church in Reno, who will visit Dan and Joan at the hospital. God is with all those who are praying for safety, healing and recovery.
Where is God in all this? God is with us.
Amen.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
June 10, 2015
“It is hard to forgo that to which we are accustomed, and harder still to conquer the will. But if you fail to overcome small and easy things, how will you overcome hard things? Resist your evil inclinations in the beginning, and unlearn your evil habits, lest perhaps little by little they bring you greater trials.”
Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ
This is more properly a Lenten meditation, for it is during that season in which we are more attuned to making changes in our lives that bring us closer to God. Change is difficult whether it is wanted or not; which is why I always tell people, “If you are going to give up chocolate for Lent, take on the habit of eating baby carrots; or if you are going to give up TV, take on the habit of reading Scripture.”
It's easier to overcome those small and easy things if we replace them with small but better habits. Baby carrots for chocolate, Scripture for TV, 30 minutes of walking for one TV show, etc.
And even though this seems to be more appropriate for a Lenten meditation, I was reminded of this quote from Thomas yesterday at Morning Prayer. For the last several days, the first reading has come from the book of Deuteronomy and is, essentially, Moses summarizing for the people of Israel both the benefits of obeying and the consequences of disobeying the Law.
“No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe . . . But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish” (Deut. 30:14, 17-18a).
I sometimes wonder if we aren't having the same conversation with the Serpent on a daily basis. “Oh, you won't die,” the Serpent whispers to us. “You'll be fine.”
But the truth is, we aren't fine. We slowly waste away by ignoring our physical health. We slowly create an enclave of one by focusing only on ourselves, ignoring others around us. We slowly drift away by seeing worship, prayer and study as non-essential activities. It doesn't take long for us to wander off into places we thought we would never go, one easy step at a time. And before we know it, we have a mountain of habits and practices too large to overcome. And eventually we get buried by that mountain.
How can we keep from being buried by the mountain? How can we avoid the trap of the Serpent? One step at a time, I think. Start small, maybe with a few baby carrots. Make an effort to unlearn one bad habit at a time. Make time to be more intentional about worship, prayer and study.
Lent comes around once a year to help us reorder our lives in relationship to God. The bad news is that those “evil inclinations” and “evil habits” don't pay attention to the Church calendar and have a way of cropping up on a daily basis.
The good news is that there's never a bad time to make a new beginning.
Amen.
Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ
This is more properly a Lenten meditation, for it is during that season in which we are more attuned to making changes in our lives that bring us closer to God. Change is difficult whether it is wanted or not; which is why I always tell people, “If you are going to give up chocolate for Lent, take on the habit of eating baby carrots; or if you are going to give up TV, take on the habit of reading Scripture.”
It's easier to overcome those small and easy things if we replace them with small but better habits. Baby carrots for chocolate, Scripture for TV, 30 minutes of walking for one TV show, etc.
And even though this seems to be more appropriate for a Lenten meditation, I was reminded of this quote from Thomas yesterday at Morning Prayer. For the last several days, the first reading has come from the book of Deuteronomy and is, essentially, Moses summarizing for the people of Israel both the benefits of obeying and the consequences of disobeying the Law.
“No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe . . . But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish” (Deut. 30:14, 17-18a).
I sometimes wonder if we aren't having the same conversation with the Serpent on a daily basis. “Oh, you won't die,” the Serpent whispers to us. “You'll be fine.”
But the truth is, we aren't fine. We slowly waste away by ignoring our physical health. We slowly create an enclave of one by focusing only on ourselves, ignoring others around us. We slowly drift away by seeing worship, prayer and study as non-essential activities. It doesn't take long for us to wander off into places we thought we would never go, one easy step at a time. And before we know it, we have a mountain of habits and practices too large to overcome. And eventually we get buried by that mountain.
How can we keep from being buried by the mountain? How can we avoid the trap of the Serpent? One step at a time, I think. Start small, maybe with a few baby carrots. Make an effort to unlearn one bad habit at a time. Make time to be more intentional about worship, prayer and study.
Lent comes around once a year to help us reorder our lives in relationship to God. The bad news is that those “evil inclinations” and “evil habits” don't pay attention to the Church calendar and have a way of cropping up on a daily basis.
The good news is that there's never a bad time to make a new beginning.
Amen.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
June 3, 2015
“Just right.”
Josh
That was the favorite exclamation of Josh, the owner of one of the bars I used to frequent. Whenever something went exceedingly well, or whenever I said something he particularly liked, he always said, “Just right.”
We have just come through what some people call the Liturgical Season – the period of time that runs from Advent through the Day of Pentecost – and have moved into the Season after Pentecost – also called Ordinary Time – which stretches all the way to the end of November and Advent.
I have a saying that really needs to be on a bumper sticker: Episcopalians read the dirty pages. You can walk into any Episcopal church in any part of the country, pick up any prayer book in any pew, and you will find a thin, dirty line of pages running from 355 to 365. Those ten pages are, obviously, the most used pages of the BCP in any church and encompass Holy Eucharist. This really isn't surprising; it's just one of those common things that everybody does and, when pointed out, can make you laugh.
A long time ago I decided that we need to use more of the BCP on Sundays than is traditionally the case. So I sat down and created a system that utilized every Eucharistic Prayer on a regular basis. During Advent and Lent, I use Prayer B because I think it has a more somber tone and (more importantly) has the line, “For in these last days,” a phrase appropriate for those two seasons. At Christmas (and for services in which there are baptisms or a renewal of baptismal vows) I use Prayer D – at Christmas because of the strong reference to the Virgin Mary, and at baptisms/renewal because the Prayers of the People are incorporated into the Prayer. And during the Easter season I use Prayer C because of its greater congregational participation and theme of new creation.
We have now entered the long, green Season after Pentecost/Ordinary Time. This is the season of growth, hence the color green. This is the season that focuses on the ministry of Jesus. This is the season where we focus on discipleship. This is also the season where we can/should focus on our own ministries. And this is the season where I use Eucharistic Prayer A.
We used Prayer A for the first time in a long time this past Sunday. As I presided over Holy Communion, the familiar words and acts flowed through the service without missing a beat. As I glanced out over the congregation, I noticed how many parishioners either didn't bother to open their prayer books or, if opened, simply held it open out of habit without actually looking at it.
Prayer A is familiar to us. It's like meeting up with a good friend we haven't seen for years and picking up the conversation right where we left off as if we were never separated. Prayer A is like that comfortable old sweatshirt that you rarely wear, but when you finally slip it on, you say, “Oh . . . this is nice.”
Yes, the Season after Pentecost seems to last forever. Yes, Prayer A will eventually feel old and tired. But for now, Prayer A is just right.
Amen.
Josh
That was the favorite exclamation of Josh, the owner of one of the bars I used to frequent. Whenever something went exceedingly well, or whenever I said something he particularly liked, he always said, “Just right.”
We have just come through what some people call the Liturgical Season – the period of time that runs from Advent through the Day of Pentecost – and have moved into the Season after Pentecost – also called Ordinary Time – which stretches all the way to the end of November and Advent.
I have a saying that really needs to be on a bumper sticker: Episcopalians read the dirty pages. You can walk into any Episcopal church in any part of the country, pick up any prayer book in any pew, and you will find a thin, dirty line of pages running from 355 to 365. Those ten pages are, obviously, the most used pages of the BCP in any church and encompass Holy Eucharist. This really isn't surprising; it's just one of those common things that everybody does and, when pointed out, can make you laugh.
A long time ago I decided that we need to use more of the BCP on Sundays than is traditionally the case. So I sat down and created a system that utilized every Eucharistic Prayer on a regular basis. During Advent and Lent, I use Prayer B because I think it has a more somber tone and (more importantly) has the line, “For in these last days,” a phrase appropriate for those two seasons. At Christmas (and for services in which there are baptisms or a renewal of baptismal vows) I use Prayer D – at Christmas because of the strong reference to the Virgin Mary, and at baptisms/renewal because the Prayers of the People are incorporated into the Prayer. And during the Easter season I use Prayer C because of its greater congregational participation and theme of new creation.
We have now entered the long, green Season after Pentecost/Ordinary Time. This is the season of growth, hence the color green. This is the season that focuses on the ministry of Jesus. This is the season where we focus on discipleship. This is also the season where we can/should focus on our own ministries. And this is the season where I use Eucharistic Prayer A.
We used Prayer A for the first time in a long time this past Sunday. As I presided over Holy Communion, the familiar words and acts flowed through the service without missing a beat. As I glanced out over the congregation, I noticed how many parishioners either didn't bother to open their prayer books or, if opened, simply held it open out of habit without actually looking at it.
Prayer A is familiar to us. It's like meeting up with a good friend we haven't seen for years and picking up the conversation right where we left off as if we were never separated. Prayer A is like that comfortable old sweatshirt that you rarely wear, but when you finally slip it on, you say, “Oh . . . this is nice.”
Yes, the Season after Pentecost seems to last forever. Yes, Prayer A will eventually feel old and tired. But for now, Prayer A is just right.
Amen.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015
“Though she is an unlikely saint, Rahab is remembered by the authors of Matthew, Hebrews, and James as a faithful witness and as an ancestor of Jesus.”
Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals
In this alternative prayer book I have on my desk, today is the Feast day of Rahab, the famous prostitute who protected two Israelite spies in return for her family's protection during the raid on Jericho. After some negotiating, both sides kept their word: Rahab hung a crimson cord outside her window (thereby creating the very first red light district), and the Israelites spared everyone in her house from death. Rahab eventually became the great-great grandmother of King David and, according to Matthew, part of the lineage of Jesus.
Rahab is important for a variety of reasons. First, it reminds us that not even the Bible can keep a woman down. If you haven't noticed, the Bible doesn't necessarily do a good job of including women in its stories. Women are most often listed as 'mothers of,' and a few have stories dedicated to them, but for the most part they are anonymous characters in a male-dominated landscape. This is, unfortunately, still often the case today. But the story of Rahab reminds us that women are important players in the story of God and we need to remember them by name.
Second, we must remember that Rahab was a prostitute who became the great-great grandmother of David and a named ancestor of Jesus. So often it seems we try to portray church as the place where nice people go, or as the place where the right kinds of people go. But the story of the Bible isn't filled with the right kinds of people – it's filled with cheats and liars, prostitutes and foreigners, adulterers, rapists and murderers. Oh, there are the right kinds of people in the Bible, but they are in the minority. What this tells me is that the Bible's primary narrative isn't how people relate to God, but that the Bible's primary narrative is how God continually reaches out to all of humanity in an attempt to repair the breach.
If that's the case, if God is reaching out to all of humanity, if God is reaching out to all kinds of people in all kinds of circumstances, then we should be willing to make that same effort. Our first response to people looking to connect with God shouldn't be to look for reasons to bar them from entry; our first response to people looking to connect with God should instead be to look for reasons why God is reaching out to them.
On this day, remember Rahab and how God became a part of her life.
On this day, remember Rahab and ask if we are as willing as God to have a person like her in our midst.
On this day, remember Rahab – sinner, prostitute, saint, ancestor of Jesus and beloved by God.
Amen.
Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals
In this alternative prayer book I have on my desk, today is the Feast day of Rahab, the famous prostitute who protected two Israelite spies in return for her family's protection during the raid on Jericho. After some negotiating, both sides kept their word: Rahab hung a crimson cord outside her window (thereby creating the very first red light district), and the Israelites spared everyone in her house from death. Rahab eventually became the great-great grandmother of King David and, according to Matthew, part of the lineage of Jesus.
Rahab is important for a variety of reasons. First, it reminds us that not even the Bible can keep a woman down. If you haven't noticed, the Bible doesn't necessarily do a good job of including women in its stories. Women are most often listed as 'mothers of,' and a few have stories dedicated to them, but for the most part they are anonymous characters in a male-dominated landscape. This is, unfortunately, still often the case today. But the story of Rahab reminds us that women are important players in the story of God and we need to remember them by name.
Second, we must remember that Rahab was a prostitute who became the great-great grandmother of David and a named ancestor of Jesus. So often it seems we try to portray church as the place where nice people go, or as the place where the right kinds of people go. But the story of the Bible isn't filled with the right kinds of people – it's filled with cheats and liars, prostitutes and foreigners, adulterers, rapists and murderers. Oh, there are the right kinds of people in the Bible, but they are in the minority. What this tells me is that the Bible's primary narrative isn't how people relate to God, but that the Bible's primary narrative is how God continually reaches out to all of humanity in an attempt to repair the breach.
If that's the case, if God is reaching out to all of humanity, if God is reaching out to all kinds of people in all kinds of circumstances, then we should be willing to make that same effort. Our first response to people looking to connect with God shouldn't be to look for reasons to bar them from entry; our first response to people looking to connect with God should instead be to look for reasons why God is reaching out to them.
On this day, remember Rahab and how God became a part of her life.
On this day, remember Rahab and ask if we are as willing as God to have a person like her in our midst.
On this day, remember Rahab – sinner, prostitute, saint, ancestor of Jesus and beloved by God.
Amen.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015
“For those who do not respect the covenant of love, even the Gospels are 'old'.”
Origen of Alexandria
Origen (c. 185 – c. 254) was a biblical scholar and prolific writer of sermons, commentaries and other theological works. This particular comment came at the end of a paragraph in which he was writing about the Law becoming an “Old Testament” if we only understand it carnally; that is, if we only understand it as a system to rule our physical lives. He then posited that even the Gospels will become old if we all we do is use them as a system to rule our physical lives.
What Origen is getting at here, I think, is that the Bible is not a rules book. The overarching theme of the Bible is love. It was out of love that God created. It was out of love that God told Abraham he would be a blessing to all nations. It was out of love that God sent the prophets. It was out of love that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus. If we use the Bible as a rules book, then we run the risk of missing out on acting from love. And as we all know, love doesn't always follow the rules.
Reading the Bible through a lens of love is what led people to oppose the rule of slavery. It is what led some Germans to help Jews escape the rule of the Nazis. And it is what leads us to respect the dignity of every human being.
Reading the Bible through a lens of love allows us to see it new every day. Reading the Bible through a lens of love allows us to see possibilities, rather than the unimaginable or unthinkable. It was love that allowed Peter to make the audacious claim that God shows no partiality. It was love that allowed Jesus to welcome sinners, prostitutes and criminals into the kingdom. It was love that allowed people to stand up against the rule of segregation and apartheid.
If we read the Bible as a rules book, looking for ways to determine who is out and who is in, looking for ways to elevate ourselves while condemning others, then we are reading it as a law that is, as Origen said, old.
We need to be willing to read the Bible with the lens of love. That means we need to be open to its newness every day. It means we might need to concede that what we thought was right yesterday might not only be wrong tomorrow, but may have been wrong all along. For us to follow God, we need to respect the covenant of love which permeates the Scriptures. If we don't, then, as Origen said, even the Gospels will become old.
Amen.
Origen of Alexandria
Origen (c. 185 – c. 254) was a biblical scholar and prolific writer of sermons, commentaries and other theological works. This particular comment came at the end of a paragraph in which he was writing about the Law becoming an “Old Testament” if we only understand it carnally; that is, if we only understand it as a system to rule our physical lives. He then posited that even the Gospels will become old if we all we do is use them as a system to rule our physical lives.
What Origen is getting at here, I think, is that the Bible is not a rules book. The overarching theme of the Bible is love. It was out of love that God created. It was out of love that God told Abraham he would be a blessing to all nations. It was out of love that God sent the prophets. It was out of love that God became incarnate in the person of Jesus. If we use the Bible as a rules book, then we run the risk of missing out on acting from love. And as we all know, love doesn't always follow the rules.
Reading the Bible through a lens of love is what led people to oppose the rule of slavery. It is what led some Germans to help Jews escape the rule of the Nazis. And it is what leads us to respect the dignity of every human being.
Reading the Bible through a lens of love allows us to see it new every day. Reading the Bible through a lens of love allows us to see possibilities, rather than the unimaginable or unthinkable. It was love that allowed Peter to make the audacious claim that God shows no partiality. It was love that allowed Jesus to welcome sinners, prostitutes and criminals into the kingdom. It was love that allowed people to stand up against the rule of segregation and apartheid.
If we read the Bible as a rules book, looking for ways to determine who is out and who is in, looking for ways to elevate ourselves while condemning others, then we are reading it as a law that is, as Origen said, old.
We need to be willing to read the Bible with the lens of love. That means we need to be open to its newness every day. It means we might need to concede that what we thought was right yesterday might not only be wrong tomorrow, but may have been wrong all along. For us to follow God, we need to respect the covenant of love which permeates the Scriptures. If we don't, then, as Origen said, even the Gospels will become old.
Amen.
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015
“Seek the Lord while he wills to be found . . . 'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways,' says the Lord.”
Canticle 10, The Second Song of Isaiah, BCP p. 86
Seek the Lord while he wills to be found . . . At first this seems a little odd. It might imply God is hiding. I don't think that is the case. We seek out organizations we find interesting and in which we might want to participate. We seek out people with common interests. We seek out friendships. In the same way, we seek out the Lord. A few years ago, it was hip for churches to have “Seeker Services;” services that used different methods of attraction and were light on doctrine as a gateway into the larger church. I tend to think that all of our services are “Seeker Services” because we are all seeking God.
And that line, while he wills to be found, might imply that there are times when the Lord doesn't want to be found. But that isn't the case either. We hear over and over how God looks to draw us nearer to him. We hear over and over how God desperately wants us to be part of the kingdom. As we hear in Eucharistic Prayer C, “Again and again you called us to return.” While he wills to be found is an everyday occurrence.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways. God does things differently than we do. God does things differently than we would like. God is continually calling those we consider less than, not as good as, or outside what we consider the norm. God is concerned with those who live on the margins of society. God cares for the downtrodden and those pushed aside by the majority. We need to spend time paying attention to those things and those people whom God considers important. We need to listen and discern what God is saying and where God might be leading us.
Seek the Lord – As with any activity or person in which we want to be involved, we need to spend the time seeking out that which we find important.
While he wills to be found – Again and again you called us to return. God's will is to be found in all things and in all ways. God is always willing to be found.
For my thoughts and ways are not your thoughts and ways – We need to spend less time telling others what God demands of them and more time listening for how God would like us to act.
All that to say, “Pray hard; listen harder.”
Amen.
Canticle 10, The Second Song of Isaiah, BCP p. 86
Seek the Lord while he wills to be found . . . At first this seems a little odd. It might imply God is hiding. I don't think that is the case. We seek out organizations we find interesting and in which we might want to participate. We seek out people with common interests. We seek out friendships. In the same way, we seek out the Lord. A few years ago, it was hip for churches to have “Seeker Services;” services that used different methods of attraction and were light on doctrine as a gateway into the larger church. I tend to think that all of our services are “Seeker Services” because we are all seeking God.
And that line, while he wills to be found, might imply that there are times when the Lord doesn't want to be found. But that isn't the case either. We hear over and over how God looks to draw us nearer to him. We hear over and over how God desperately wants us to be part of the kingdom. As we hear in Eucharistic Prayer C, “Again and again you called us to return.” While he wills to be found is an everyday occurrence.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways. God does things differently than we do. God does things differently than we would like. God is continually calling those we consider less than, not as good as, or outside what we consider the norm. God is concerned with those who live on the margins of society. God cares for the downtrodden and those pushed aside by the majority. We need to spend time paying attention to those things and those people whom God considers important. We need to listen and discern what God is saying and where God might be leading us.
Seek the Lord – As with any activity or person in which we want to be involved, we need to spend the time seeking out that which we find important.
While he wills to be found – Again and again you called us to return. God's will is to be found in all things and in all ways. God is always willing to be found.
For my thoughts and ways are not your thoughts and ways – We need to spend less time telling others what God demands of them and more time listening for how God would like us to act.
All that to say, “Pray hard; listen harder.”
Amen.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015
“Ours is an associated worship: there cannot, therefore, be a more erroneous opinion than that upon which the practice of some seems to be founded, that the people are to be only hearers or spectators during the service of the Church. Our excellent Liturgy is so constructed, that it can neither have meaning nor effect in some of its parts, unless the people join in it with interest and devotion.”
Bishops Claggett and Kemp, Pastoral Letter to the Diocese of Maryland, 1816
Last week I wrote about the unification of Worship and Mission; or, if not the actual unification, a deeper intertwining of the two. For too long, people have seen worship as what we do in church on Sunday morning, while mission is something in which a few people participate either locally or “over there somewhere.”
And, it would seem, this dichotomy between worship and mission was an issue in the early years of the Episcopal church as well (if you read between the lines).
Worship is, as I said last week, our primary purpose as the Church. We are to worship God in the beauty of holiness. We are to worship with all our heart, mind, body and soul. And that worship should carry over from Sunday into every other day of the week.
Liturgy, you may or may not recall, is often defined as coming from the Greek and meaning, “work of the people.” What this rightly implies is that our worship, our liturgy, involves everyone present. We can pray individually, but we worship communally. When the Presider says, “The Lord be with you,” if there is no response, there is no worship, there are only prayers. Everyone present has a vital role to play. As some people have said, worship is a drama with God as the audience.
But last week that standard definition of liturgy was broadened. The Rev. Dr. Ruth Meyers suggest that liturgy be seen as work for the common good, or work for the sake of the world. This opens up liturgy to have meaning and significance beyond Sunday morning. This allows us to see our liturgy, our worship, as being something that can impact the world around us.
When we worship with all our heart, with all our mind, with all our body and with all our soul, I believe we can begin to move from being spectators on Sunday morning to joining with Christ for the sake of, and service to, the world. When we worship that way, everybody is involved. This will also involve everyone when we participate in the mission of God in the same way.
The first step to mission is to participate in worship as if it made a difference in the world. The first step to worship is to see mission as a liturgy – as service for the sake of the world.
To paraphrase Bishops Claggett and Kemp: Worship and Mission have no meaning unless the people join in with interest and devotion.
Amen.
Bishops Claggett and Kemp, Pastoral Letter to the Diocese of Maryland, 1816
Last week I wrote about the unification of Worship and Mission; or, if not the actual unification, a deeper intertwining of the two. For too long, people have seen worship as what we do in church on Sunday morning, while mission is something in which a few people participate either locally or “over there somewhere.”
And, it would seem, this dichotomy between worship and mission was an issue in the early years of the Episcopal church as well (if you read between the lines).
Worship is, as I said last week, our primary purpose as the Church. We are to worship God in the beauty of holiness. We are to worship with all our heart, mind, body and soul. And that worship should carry over from Sunday into every other day of the week.
Liturgy, you may or may not recall, is often defined as coming from the Greek and meaning, “work of the people.” What this rightly implies is that our worship, our liturgy, involves everyone present. We can pray individually, but we worship communally. When the Presider says, “The Lord be with you,” if there is no response, there is no worship, there are only prayers. Everyone present has a vital role to play. As some people have said, worship is a drama with God as the audience.
But last week that standard definition of liturgy was broadened. The Rev. Dr. Ruth Meyers suggest that liturgy be seen as work for the common good, or work for the sake of the world. This opens up liturgy to have meaning and significance beyond Sunday morning. This allows us to see our liturgy, our worship, as being something that can impact the world around us.
When we worship with all our heart, with all our mind, with all our body and with all our soul, I believe we can begin to move from being spectators on Sunday morning to joining with Christ for the sake of, and service to, the world. When we worship that way, everybody is involved. This will also involve everyone when we participate in the mission of God in the same way.
The first step to mission is to participate in worship as if it made a difference in the world. The first step to worship is to see mission as a liturgy – as service for the sake of the world.
To paraphrase Bishops Claggett and Kemp: Worship and Mission have no meaning unless the people join in with interest and devotion.
Amen.
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