Wednesday, November 14, 2018

November 14, 2018


Confirmation is a significant transition moment within the household of God, a moment that both cannot be repeated and yet is always reaffirmed, not least of all in the Daily Offices and holy communion.” – Drew Nathaniel Keane, “A Reconsideration of the Continued Practice of Confirmation in the Episcopal Church,” Anglican Theological Review, Vol. 200, Number 2, p. 263

This Sunday we will welcome Bp. Chilton Knudsen to St. John's. She is our Assistant Bishop and, as part of her primary duties, focuses on western Maryland and small churches. She will be retiring at the end of this year, so this is one of her last official parish visitations.

Lots of things happen when a bishop officially visits a parish – meetings, inspections, conversations, and at the top of the list, Confirmations. We are blessed to have eleven people being Confirmed and one person being Received (that is, officially moving from the Roman Catholic church to the Episcopal church). It's going to be a big day with a big celebration, and I encourage everyone to attend.

Confirmation as we perform the rite is uniquely Anglican in that we have fully separated it from baptism and reserved it for the hands of a bishop. But I don't want to get into various understandings of what it is or isn't here. I want to, instead, focus on the above quote.

When we are Confirmed we reaffirm and agree with what happened at our (usually) infant baptism, and we promise to live into the baptismal vows often spoken for us. And while we are adopted into the household of God at our Baptism, it is at our Confirmation that we are given more rights and responsibilities as members of that household. As Keane said, it is a significant moment of transition, never repeated but constantly reaffirmed.

It's like getting your driver's license: you only get it once, but you are constantly improving/learning through every day driving.

The other aspect of Confirmation is that, by the laying on of hands by the bishop, the Confirmand is connected to the wider body of Christ through apostolic succession. Apostolic succession isn't just from Knudsen to Sutton to Claggett to Seabury to Cranmer to Augustine to Gregory to Clement to Peter. It's also the recognition that we are connected to those very people, and each other, in a significant way.

This Sunday I invite you to attend the 10:15 service to be part of and witness this very important life event for twelve people of our family. If you can't attend, I invite you to pray for those being Confirmed that they will be led by the Holy Spirit into the knowledge and obedience of God's holy word.

And for those who will experience the laying on of hands by the bishop, know that this isn't the culmination of all those Confirmation classes but, like a wedding, ordination, or getting your driver's license, it is only the beginning.

May you continue to grow in God's wisdom and grace, and increase daily with the power of the Holy Spirit.


Blessings,

Wednesday, November 7, 2018

November 7, 2018


The church as the body of Christ shares in Christ's universal relevance as the place of the gathering of redeemed humanity through whom the whole world are to be reconciled to God. Such an exalted ecclesiology is antithetical to a conception of the church as a ritualistic vehicle to facilitate the private spirituality of individuals, withdrawn from the affairs of the world. – Alexander J.D. Irving, discussing theologian Henri De Lubac, Anglican Theological Review, Vol. 200, Number 2, p. 270

Every Sunday we gather together as the body of Christ to worship God. We come to sing, pray, repent, forgive, and be fed. We also do this at other times, such as Evening Prayer and the Wednesday healing Eucharist. But our primary day is Sunday. We do this, not because we are good people, but because, quite literally, it is (as Rite I says) our bounden duty.

The Catechism states that our duty as Christians is to follow Christ; come together week by week for corporate worship; and to work, pray, and give for the spread of the kingdom of God. This is in line with our baptismal covenant when we promised to continue in the Apostles' teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers.

Another way to look at it, and remembering our All Saints' celebration last Sunday, is that we are the physical representation and manifestation of the kingdom of God. When we gather, we gather with angels, archangels, and all the glorious company of the saints in light, both in ages past and those yet to come. This points to the catholicity of our faith – that what we do, we do for all; and that what we do is not individualistic worship among many, but worship by the gathered body for the whole of both church and world.

Worship can be spiritually uplifting. Worship can bring us comfort in difficult times. Worship can bring us a glimpse of the holy mysteries where we touch the thin space between heaven and earth. And worship can remind us that we are the connecting point between all humanity and God.

We do not come together week after week to withdraw or escape from the world. We come together week after week to draw the world to us and to God.

So the next time you are tempted to evaluate worship and the church community based on whether or not it meets your needs, remember that we gather with angels, archangels, and all the company of heaven for the reconciliation of the world to God. We gather not to meet our needs, but to meet the needs of the world. We gather as the unified body of Christ, not as a random collection of cells.

This gathering, this body, this manifestation of the kingdom of God on earth, is stronger with you than without you, and we are diminished by your absence.

Blessings,

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

October 31, 2018


Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

This past Monday evening I participated in a service of solidarity at Congregation B'nai Abraham here in Hagerstown in response to the murder of Jewish worshipers at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh on Saturday. Besides myself, representatives from the Interfaith Coalition, Disciples of Christ, United Methodist Church, Roman Catholic Church, Islamic Society of Western Maryland, Bridge of Life Church, United Church of Christ, and the NAACP participated.

Rabbi Ari Plost pulled this together beginning Sunday evening, and by Monday afternoon both speakers and choir had been organized and would come together for the vigil. The synagogue was standing room only as we listened to the various speakers read and reflect on scripture passages from their various traditions that held some personal meaning, as well as praying for those killed and those who survived.

I chose to read the Baptismal Covenant from the BCP. In my comments, I said that this covenant wasn't just an Episcopal thing or even a Christian thing, but can be used as a guide for all our lives. I didn't say this explicitly, but the point was made that Christians, Muslims, Jews, agnostics, deists, and atheists can all work to love our neighbors as ourselves. We can all work for justice and peace. We can all work to respect the dignity of every human being.

We are living in a time where hatreds are running rampant. Racism and white nationalism are on the rise. White people are calling police on non-whites in record numbers for reasons that aren't even criminal – entering neighborhoods where they live, selling water for fundraisers, creating community gardens, etc. Politicians are using fear of the other and derogatory and divisive language that gives credence to more hateful speech and actions. Stopping THEM before they overtake US is the theme of the day.

And while the focus has become THOSE OTHER PEOPLE, nobody seems to notice or care that the vast majority by far of terrorist attacks in the US have been committed by white males. This includes the man who killed eleven people at worship in Pittsburgh.

Words have meaning. Words have power. Words matter.

Part of loving your neighbor as yourself means to stand up against people who belittle and attack those who choose hate over love. Part of striving for justice and peace means ensuring that all people are treated equally and calling out those who use their power to do otherwise. Part of respecting the dignity of every human being is to recognize that we are all made in the image of God and to put a stop to words and actions which do otherwise. Part of living into our Baptismal Covenant is to firmly and unequivocally stand against hate and intolerance of every kind.

If anything, the events of this past weekend should make us realize that it is past time for us to see our Baptismal Covenant as just another lovely liturgy of the church and to begin seeing it as a way of life.

I will, with God's help.

Blessings,

Wednesday, October 24, 2018

October 24, 2018


If I were to remain silent, I'd be guilty of complicity – Albert Einstein

In my last couple of sermons, and in last week's Wednesday Word, I've addressed the issue of abuse in a variety of forms, but primarily the abuse of women. Unfortunately abuse happens in many circumstances – women, children, and the elderly being primary. Abuse can be subtle or overt. And abuse always happens at the hands of those with power over those who have little or no power.

Which is why it is unreasonable to expect those who are abused to end the abuse. There are a myriad reasons why this is not always possible, but the number one reason is due to the power imbalance. Expecting the abused to put an end to the abuse is like telling your six-year old child to go find a better place to eat if they don't like what's for dinner.

Abuse of people will never end until the kingdom of God is fully established. But we can address it, we can help to fight it and hopefully decrease how often it happens. The key is for those of us with the most power – read, white men – to shine a light on this dark practice when it happens.

Certainly this means when we see anything obvious, but it also means stepping up and speaking out at the least obvious times. Everything from boorish behavior to comments about body image to “locker room” talk to boys-will-be-boys excuses need to be brought to light.

We are asked, and we have promised, to live into our baptismal covenant every day; not just on Sundays during a particular liturgy when it's convenient. How is allowing this behavior resisting evil? How is this behavior proclaiming the Good News? How does allowing this behavior exhibit love of neighbor? Maybe most importantly, how does allowing this behavior respect the dignity of every human being?

Yes, doing so is uncomfortable. Yes, doing so may put you on the receiving end of what has been dished out to others. Yes, this is difficult. But again, nobody said following Christ would be easy.

If we allow our fear to drive us, if we are silent because we don't want to cause trouble, then we ourselves are complicit in actions taken, and we ourselves are as guilty as the actual abuser.

In the case of abuse, silence is not golden; silence is insidious.

May God grant you the wisdom to identify imbalances and the courage to fight for equality and respect.

Blessings,

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

A Safe Space?


We cannot guarantee a safe space – St. Luke's, Boone, NC

I got back from the annual clergy conference yesterday afternoon. For a lot of different reasons it was an intense, draining, and refreshing few days. It was also a good time to catch up with and deepen new friendships I'm beginning to develop here in Maryland.

The main reason for the intensity and draining nature of the conference was that we addressed difficult topics. One of those centered around the church's own #MeToo stories – which I'll get to shortly.

When we began, we were given a list entitled, “Practices for Talking About Things That Matter.” It was developed by our facilitator who is the Rector of St. Luke's in Boone, NC. And it was the last item on that list that got my attention: We cannot guarantee a safe space.

I have often said that St. John's should be a safe space for people. This should not be a space where people feel threatened, objectified, or abused. I still believe that. But this last item on the list pointed out that we are all still human. Given enough time, we can and will say or do hurtful things.

We cannot guarantee this will never happen; therefore, we cannot guarantee that this will always be a safe space. But what we can do is to recognize our imperfect nature and have the courage to say when we've been hurt, as well as have the courage to admit we have done the hurting, to apologize, forgive, and move forward. Otherwise we are just waiting and/or looking for an excuse to end relationships.

It was this topic of saying hurtful things that moved us into our version of #MeToo. The men spent time listening to our sisters in ministry tell stories, sometimes very hurtful stories, of times they have been threatened, objectified, and abused. Stories that happened in the church and some in this diocese.

We also took a few minutes and watched this video:

The most disturbing thing I heard after watching it was when a female colleague said, “And those aren't even the worst things I've heard.”

So . . . I'm in the midst of having my perspective change. As much as I want St. John's to be a safe space, I cannot guarantee that it will always be so; because people will say and do things that are hurtful at one time or another. But what I can do is help cultivate a space where we live fully into our baptismal covenant.

This means we speak up when we have been hurt. It means we acknowledge we have sinned. It means we ask for and offer forgiveness. It means we respect the dignity of every human being who enters our doors.

We may not always be safe; but we can always continue to work at building a community of love.

Blessings,

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

October 10, 2018


Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? – Luke 15:8

This passage came to mind yesterday morning when we were, yet again, confronted with a missing piece of our lives.

You would think that, for as much as we have moved, we wouldn't have this problem. You take all of the “Important Stuff” and put it in its own box, label it, and hand deliver it to where it needs to go. Well, it seems I get the first part of that right, but then we have trouble locating the box or the things that were supposed to go in that box.

To date I/we have lost new credit cards, bills, the checkbook, passbook, and various other needed things. So far, all but one of those things have turned up. And between the, “Have you seen …” and, “Hey! I found it!” there has been a lot of anxiety, some general bad language, and a promise to not do this next time (which, God willing, won't be for a good long while).

We are human. We lose things. Sometimes we lose important things. That loss can drive us into a place of perpetual anxiety. What if someone else finds my credit cards? What if my checkbook falls into the wrong hands? What if I've permanently lost my passbook? What if? What if? What if?

In today's world that is a very real concern with the ever-present possibility of identity theft.

But more often than not, and certainly in my case as we move from Point A to Point B, and in the case of the woman in the parable, what has been lost is “somewhere around here.” It was in a box when we left, it has to be in that box now. I saw it here somewhere. We just need to take some time, slow down, and do a thorough search.

Sometimes our faith journey is that same way. In our spiritual journey things get moved around, put away, or lost. Sometimes we think those are very important parts of our faith. Sometimes they are. And sometimes that loss can send us into an anxiety-driven tailspin about our faith in general.

The trick is to not get so anxious that we quit looking. For it is in the looking that we will find it. It is, after all, a faith journey, not a faith destination.

Blessings,

Wednesday, October 3, 2018

October 3, 2018


Habit is overcome by habit
Thomas A'Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, Book 1, Chapter 21

We all have various routines that we follow, sometimes out of necessity and sometimes of our own making. Our various jobs or levels of education require us to do things in certain ways. For instance, those of us who are still working or in school need to get up this morning, shower, dress, eat, and get out the door by a certain time in order to be at the job or at school at the appropriate time. Our Monday through Friday routines are pretty much set for us.

I have a routine that I perform before every football game that ensures I have everything needed and am free to concentrate on the game.

Habits, though, are something deeper than routines. Habits may start out as routines, but, over time, they become part of who we are. The dictionary defines a habit as, an acquired behavior pattern regularly followed until it has become almost involuntary.” I think of people who smoke cigarettes, or Joe Morgan's left arm twitch when he was at bat, or my left foot pushing the clutch when coming to a stop sign (even though I now drive an automatic). And there are plenty of other examples we can think of, I'm sure.

Not all habits are good. Not all habits are healthy. Some habits are neutral.

Our pledge campaign is gearing up and we will all be receiving letters asking us to consider how we will support our parish with our time, talent, and treasure. As we prayerfully consider how we can do that, I would also ask us to consider our habits.

We are asked to love God, love neighbor, and change the world. We are asked to be the body of Christ in the world, and to be the face of Christ in our world. And we are asked to proclaim the message of the gospel, bringing hope to the hopeless, food to the hungry, shelter to the homeless, love to the outcast.

As we look at all our parish does, and as we are asked to consider how we might participate in the life and ministries of our parish, what would happen if our participation and our routines became habits? What would this place, and the world immediately around us, look like if our routines became involuntary behaviors? In other words, what if we prayed habitually, worshiped habitually, loved habitually, welcomed habitually?

It can be done; but we will need to work hard at replacing our old habits with new.

Blessings,