Clerical Celibacy and... the Episcopal Church

I just got finished reading the Rev. Alberto Cutie's memoir, Dilemma. It was a very interesting book for presenting an insider's look at the difficulty faced by many Roman Catholics on their Church positions regarding human sexuality.

Of, course, being an Episcopalian and a woman, maybe I am just dense when it comes to the fact that I have always found it... um, odd... that officially celibate males have a real sense of perspective on issues of human sexuality, family planning, and married relationships. There is a lot of talk today, for instance, about Cardinal George's apology for comparing a gay pride parade to a Klan rally. He claims that he was speaking out of fear, and apologizes for hurting the feelings of others by his remarks.

This is interesting after reading "Padre Alberto's" book describing his move to the Episcopal Church after his relationship with a woman was revealed in the press in 2009. He details in his book about how he struggled against his intense feeling of love at first sight, his eventual decision to attempt friendship with his beloved, which then developed into forbidden intimacy according to his vows of celibacy, and finally the exposure of his relationship and the aftermath. The exposure of his affair (his term used in the book) no doubt was also fomented by the fact that the Rev. Cutie was a Latino media celebrity as well as a very telegenic spokesman for the Catholic Archdiocese of Miami through his Spanish language talk shows and his nickname for these activities as "Father Oprah." Nothing sells more than outsiders' enjoyment of catching a Catholic priest (who has been giving relationship advice to the faithful) on a public beach with his hand on the derriere of a woman in a bikini, after all.

He rightfully protests against those who place Catholic clergy on a pedestal of superhuman saintliness. Of course, if you read the book carefully, you will see that he engaged in the same kind of objectifying of priests and of the priesthood itself throughout his career in the Church. Catholics are taught that their priests are completely set apart from the daily experience of the laity. That's how the whole thing works. And by requiring their clergy to hold themselves apart from normal everyday human intimacy, I believe that the Roman Catholic clergy DO end up with a lack of understanding of their parishioners' lives and troubles, just as the laity gets a skewed view of their priests' and bishops lives. The system is set up to create misunderstanding and division between laity and ordained. Further, this is not healthy for the care of the lay members of the Roman Church nor for its clergy.

Interestingly, today I came across this piece in the Huffington Post by Father Alberto about the revelation that an auxiliary bishop of Los Angeles is the father of two teenaged children. Apparently, Father Cutie's situation was mentioned in some of the news reports regarding Bishop Zavala's secret family, and he therefore felt compelled to comment publicly. He ends his piece with some very wise words:

Leaving your familiar ministerial environment, daily life and work to follow your heart takes time and courage. Church reform also takes time. Hopefully, one day soon, all good men and women will be able to serve God in peace and freedom, without unnecessary non-biblical burdens. But in the meantime, wouldn't it be great if devout people would learn the value of greater compassion and forgiveness, especially to those who absolved them of their sins so many times? In situations like these, the words of Jesus are more relevant than ever: "Whoever has no sin, cast the first stone" (John 8:7).

 But what, you ask, does this have to do with the Episcopal Church? Well, that's simple. Father Cutie refused to abandon his relationship with his beloved, and thus was received into the Episcopal Church, where he now continues his ministry at Church of the Resurrection in Miami as a married father of two children (a son from his wife's first marriage, the other a daughter that he and his wife had together once they married after he left the Roman Church). There have been dozens if not hundreds of Roman Catholic priests who have also followed this path.

And there have been some Episcopal priests who have followed the opposite route into the Roman Church, as we were reminded this week with news that the Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter has been established here in the US for former Episcopalians who wish to continue their unique manner of worship within the Roman Church. Supposedly, according to the article linked above, there are over a hundred Episcopal clergy who have applied to be accepted into this special diocese-like ...thingy. And the leader of this ordinariate? The married former Episcopal bishop of the Rio Grande, the Rev. Jeffrey Steenson. Note the lack of "Rt." before his title. That's because the Roman church accepts married Anglican priests into the Church-- although they have to be re-ordained, which Steenson has done-- but it does not allow those converts to become bishops. So the Rev. Steenson will be an ersatz bishop of an ersatz diocese of ersatz Catholics who will also be Anglican-ish. And let's remember, these Episcopalians asking to be received into the Roman Church are there because they disagree on matters of human sexuality and gender when it comes to ordination-- the same basic issue that goes back to Father Cutie's reception into the Episcopal Church.

Clerical celibacy in the Roman Church has impacted the Episcopal Church for years. The Episcopal Church's evolving stance on matters of human sexuality and ordination of women and homosexuals likewise impacts the dialogue between not only the Episcopal Church and the wider Anglican Communion, but the dialogue between the Anglican Communion and the Roman Catholic Church. In fact, recall that a planned meeting over a "common statement of faith" between Anglican and Roman Catholic representatives was placed on hold in 2003 after the selection of the Episcopal Church's first openly gay bishop, and that the presence of ordained women within the Anglican communion has caused open criticism from Rome. Father Cutie himself noted in his book the perceived unfairness that he could have been a married Roman Catholic priest if he had come originally from the Anglican position-- not that I find that a very persuasive argument that he should have been allowed to get married while remaining a Roman priest. I hope he did not become an Episcopalian simply to be able to be married while retaining his priestly ministry, but it DOES appear that way in certain parts of his book.

The Catholic Church's policies seem to view human sexuality solely as a gift for the creation of children-- children who will then replenish the ranks of the faithful in the pews, providing money for the maintenance of the celibate Church hierarchy who has no understanding of the creation, sustenance, and maintenance of families due to their own vows and policies of self-abnegation. Therefore, the Roman Church teaches that homosexuals are "disordered," since their sexuality is not tied to procreation at its most obvious level. Women in the Catholic Church are glorified by celibate clergy as wives and mothers of others, but denied any role in Church governance, nor are their experiences as women understood, much less honored. This all returns to the fundamental disconnect between those who make policy in the Roman Church-- who have created numerous barriers between their way of life and the laity's way of life-- and the life experiences of the vast majority of their adherents in the pews.

People who deny their own sexuality really shouldn't be looked upon as authorities on anyone else's. And it seems to me to be a sad situation all around.

UPDATE: and the New York Times asks, "Will more married priests change the Roman Catholic Church?"
And here's an item from The Lead about the attitudes of the Roman Catholic laity toward our gay brethren and sisters.

Each of Us Has a Name

Our names are not so simple as the one or two (or, in my case, three) names that our parents choose for us. We bear many names throughout our lives. I am called Leslie, Scoop, Mrs. Scoop, Mrs. Scoopmire. I have earned the name "Mom" from the children I have borne, and sometimes, from the children that pass through my classroom. One of my first children I adored called me "Eesie."

As I tell my students, people didn't always have so-called last names or family names. These developed over time, and usually were used to explain whose child you were, the job you held, or the place where you lived. Smiths worked with metal. Jones and Johnson meant that you were the son of John in the United Kingdom, and of course there were variations in different countries- Ivanovich or Johannssen, for instance. Washington was a place in England.

It used to be that the official naming of a child denoted that child's acceptance by his or her family, and names were chosen for their meaning. There also were some taboos in naming. In the Ashkenazi Jewish tradition, a child should not be named after a living relative. Japan, Sweden, Germany, New Zealand, and Denmark have some sort of limitation on the given names for babies, with Denmark going so far as having a list of 7000 approved names. After once having substituted in a class with a kid named for liquid human waste, I can say that sometimes I have wished we had some limitations here in America-- especially after some yahoos named their kids ESPN in honor of the 25th anniversary of the cable sports channel. Maybe I'm just sympathetic after having taught school for so many years and seeing some real zingers of names on some poor kids who just wanted the anonymity of a name with fewer than twelve vowels in them.

Or maybe it's because I am sympathetic because I grew up with an unusual name. My mother wanted to name me Irene Katherine. My father wanted to name me Leslie. In an act completely representative of my parents' refusal to ever give an inch in the face of the opposition from the other, they smacked all three of those names on the tiny little baby I was. I was the only kid in school who had three names (including a hyphen between two and three just to make it MORE weird), because after all, this was Oklahoma, not Middle Earth, Hogwarts, a camp song, or the British Royal Family. My few Catholic friends (once again, Oklahoma) always asked if that third name was my confirmation or baptismal name, and it took my transition to the Episcopal church to understand what they meant.

Then, when I looked up the meaning of my names, it got more confusing. Apparently, my full name (including maiden name of Barnes) means "From the Grey Fort Peace Pure Of the Barley House" or possibly "Of the Gap." Maybe "Of the Gap" would have been appropriate, since I had a huge gap in my front teeth from the time I was nine until I was eleven, and the mean man down the street used to call me "Toothless" or "Gappy" when I was a kid walking past his house. And then there were the nicknames I received from various other acquaintances as a kid: Les, Lester, Lezzbo, Les Nessman, Luisa, Barney, Barney Fife, and, my least favorite: "Lezzzzzzzleee." I eventually made my peace with my name, but it took a while. Makes the whole scene where, in the film Dances With Wolves, Mary McDonnell explains why she is called "Stands With a Fist" especially meaningful for me, since I sometimes rewarded a playmates' wit about my name with a good smack to the breadbasket. After I once cajoled my then-boyfriend onto the dance floor at a party, I used to joke that my name was "Dances With Rhythmically Challenged Boyfriend." And he married me anyway!

But names, especially in scripture, are serious business. One of the first tasks that God assigned to Adam and Eve in the Garden was naming the creatures. The Bible is full of names being ordained for children to intimate what they will do as adults. Names are sometimes changed: Abram becomes Abraham, Sarai becomes Sarah; in the book of Ruth, Naomi, in her anger at the loss of her husband and sons, demands to be called Mara instead; Jacob becomes known as Israel after he wrestles with God; Simon becomes Peter the Rock (and sometimes acts like a blockhead). In many of these scriptures, it is obvious that names contain power, which is why some devout Jews today write "G-d" instead of the name "God." Names have power. Names can be a shorthand for destiny in scripture, myth, and literature.

Each of us has a name, given by God, given by our parents, given by who we are or who we want to become.

The video above plays a song from one of my favorite albums of all time. The album is called Zero Church, and it is by Suzzy and Maggie Roche. The liner notes for this amazing album can be found here, and I hope that you will go and read the story behind how this album was made. The album was originally due to be released on September 11, 2001 a terrible date that itself has become a byword for tragedy. Zero Church is an evocative spiritual album without being in anyway heavy handed, saccharine, or any of the other things that, I am sorry, Christian music often seems to be to me-- my profoundest apologies to anyone who disagrees with me regarding that genre. It is just that I grew up when Christian radio stations first started to promote what became known as "Christian contemporary" music, and much of it seemed to not be very good music nor very good lyrics, and then there was the fact that it was just too darn preachy, and I had just left that kind of faith tradition on my way to the Episcopal Church.

But back to business. I was sitting in church yesterday, which was the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus. This song was playing in my head as I listened to the sermon. These are the lyrics, which are derived from a prayer in the Jewish Book of Blessings:

Each of us has name
given by God
and given by our parents

Each of us has a name
given by our stature and our smile
and given by what we wear

Each of us has a name
given by the mountains
and given by our walls

Each of us has a name
given by the stars
and given by our neighbors

Each of us has a name
given by our sins
and given by our longing

Each of us has a name
given by our enemies
and given by our love

Each of us has a name
given by our celebrations
and given by our work

Each of us has a name
given by the seasons
and given by our blindness

Each of us has a name
given by the sea
and given by
our death

Even before his birth, Jesus was given a name by God through an angel. On the eighth day after his birth, he was taken to the temple for his circumcision and naming. Even though the Episcopal Church has placed this feast day on January 1, today would actually be the eighth day from Christmas. So I was thinking about the names we all bear today.

Jesus is the translation of Y'shua, which means, "Yahweh is Salvation." Of course, Jesus was not the only name that our Savior bore. When we were kids, my brother had a poster on his wall that had all of the names for Jesus on it. Isaiah 9:6, for instance, states that the child born to us shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace. Isaiah 53:3 names Jesus as the Suffering Servant by whose stripes we are healed; this legend was on one of the stained glass windows in my first Episcopal church to which I belonged, St. Luke's in Tulsa, and I used to look upon the image for hours. Hebrews 2:10 calls Jesus the Author of Our Salvation. Jesus called himself the Way, the Truth, the Life; the True Vine; the Son of Man; and the Good Shepherd. Then there is the honorific of Messiah, or Christos, the one predicted for generations to be a light to the Hebrews and the redeemer of mankind.

Each one of these names reflects a special role that Jesus takes on for us. Therefore, each one of these names is a gift to us to try to help us, in our limited comprehension, understand the amazing thing that has been done for us through the incarnation of God, which is why Jesus was also called Immanuel, which means "God is with us."


God is indeed with us. Yahweh certainly does save. Jesus is proclaimed as the Messiah, as the point of contact between human frailty and God's infinite wisdom and love, the greatest gift of this Christmas season. Alleluia!

The Song of Simeon and Prophecy of Anna

Luke 2:25-38

Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying,

"Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel."

And the child's father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him.

There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem.

I have always wondered why Luke records what Simeon said, but doesn't give us the words of Anna. What words would come in the presence of the newborn Savior?

Here is the dawn of righteousness

which the LORD has provided from His great mercy;

The Lord has sent us his Chosen One

as a sign of his great favor to Israel.

This child will be known as a Wonderful Counselor,

and establish justice as the foundation of earth.

Thus will the LORD’s compassion

spring forth to all nations

and all voices sing eternal praises to God.

From the soft cry of this baby

will come the mighty trumpet of salvation,

Drawing forth all eyes to Jerusalem,

and all hearts to the worship of the Almighty One! Alleluia!

That a King Would Follow

How miraculous--

that a king would stoop

to enter the world

of the ordinary,

of the commoner,

of His subject,

of woman.

But God did this. Why?

Because humility,

even the lowliest of the low,

always rises---

and triumphs--

over everything else.

And didn't that woman know the greatest happiness?

Cleaning up the ugly first mess,

in its place she set a beautiful bouquet:

the Flower from which the sweet perfume

of virtues flows.

--------Hildegard of Bingen, Songs

Moving right along....

I'll be hitting the road soon from my beloved Tulsa to go back to St. Louis in time for Christmas Eve services at Holy Communion in University City and warmth of hearth and kin. Especially the hearth part-- it's cold down here! The HC choir will be singing a lovely cantata at 9:15 pm before the service starts at ten.

I just want to tell all state troopers that I hope they have a Merry Christmas, especially those that might be on I-44 for, oh, say the next few hours.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?

Last week a dear friend, the mother and grandmother and great-grandmother of dear friends, passed away at the age of 98. She has been precious to me, a source of laughter and wisdom, since I was a twelve-year-old little lost girl. She then became precious to my children and my husband. The news of her passing, though expected and dreaded, still was a blow. Even though she lived an amazing life through amazing times, you really are never ready to lose someone you love from your life. Like all of us, she was a beloved child of God, and she was beloved by all those whose lives she had touched.

At the funeral, I was honored to be asked to read this selection from the 8th chapter of Romans:

For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption as children. And by him we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed.

Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

As I read this, I looked over at the grieving family. These people adopted me into their lives because they have the biggest of hearts and are always willing to make room for more people to love. I trust in that love that I have always received from them. It uplifts me and sustains me and has led me through all kinds of joys as well as sorrows.

And then I thought of this reading. How much more, then, can we trust the promises of God to love and hold us and protect us and comfort us? Family is not a matter of blood. It is a matter of love. And Christ, whose birth we are so ready for, brings the love that is God into the world and, if we let him,  into our hearts.  Then we, as children of God, are expected to also carry that love into the world. The only thing that can separate us from the love of Christ is ourselves. Our own lack of faith, our own fears, are all that can separate us from the love of Christ, for that love is always present. When we do not feel that love, it is because we have hardened our hearts. God loves us unceasingly, and we will always be assured of this, if only we will allow that Love to rule over us and guide us and protect us.

If we rest on the promises of God's love for us, but do not act on that love toward others, we have nothing. The only thing that can separate us from the love of Christ-- besides terrifying encounters in Christmas traffic, but that's a story for another time-- is ourselves, if we do not trust that love of Christ enough to understand that it is demanding that we work for the love of others. And by others, I do not just mean our own families, tribes, or nations. That is easy discipleship. That kind of love responds to our own instincts and preferences.

No, we are also called to love those whom the culture of our time despises, for they also are loved by God as surely as we who are more fortunate are. I wish that those in power or seeking power who constantly trumpet their Christian credentials would be asked this one question: If you are a Christian, what have you done for the least of these? What have you done to not just feed the hungry at a photo op but to help the hungry be able to feed themselves, or clothe themselves? What have you done to end poverty, to end disease, to end oppression? For those who are led by God are the children of God. Those who are led by the love of Christ know that they are Christ's own without making grandstanding claims about belonging to this church or that church. The love of Christ does not gain us membership in an exclusive country club heaven, but enjoins us to build the kingdom of heaven right here on earth, right now,
built
and sustained
and imbued
and animated
by love.

Love that is waiting to be reborn into the world not just as we celebrate on Christmas but that is born into the world every time we comfort someone who is suffering or in sorrow or in want, every time we truly care for another.

Our adoption lays on us responsibilities for loving our neighbors as ourselves as we love the Lord our God. That is why these are the two great commands we subject ourselves to when we open ourselves to the love of God.

"The creation waits in eager anticipation for the children of God to be revealed." And the children of God will be revealed in us and to us and though us by that love.


We are children of God when we realize that all those around us-- every single person from the beggar on the streets to the job-seeker desperate to sustain her family to the person who feels friendless and alone to the ones who love and treasure us no matter what physical ties we have to each other-- are the children of God as well. We have to love those who we feel deserve it as much as those who we tell ourselves don't deserve it, because certainly God loves us when we don't deserve it. It is when we aren't very lovable that we need to be loved most of all. We are "more than conquerors" against all the troubles in the world through the One who loves us as surely as I love my children or my friends or my family.

All we have to do is love. Love is Everything. Love will abide within us if we leave open a space in our hearts, at Christmas and every day. It is through our love that we are known as a Christian and as a human being. Amen.

Let it be with me according to your word.

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary.

And he came to her and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.”

But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.

The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God.”

Then Mary said, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

I love this story because it illustrates Mary's humanity. An amazing thing is announced to her-- by an angel, no less-- and Mary reacts in a completely understandable way.

She's confused, and can't understand what is happening. Now, she doesn't scream, or run away, nor does it say that she doubts her sanity. But she does wonder what kind of greeting this is. What does it mean to be marked out by an angel as "favored?" Until this point, Mary was undoubtedly living a normal life, and suddenly is confronted with an apparition promising that God is with her and her life is going to change the world irrevocably.

The life she expected is no longer the life that is being predicted for her. Although a simple peasant girl, she is told that she will be the mother of One who will "restore the fortunes of Zion," one who will inherit the throne of the greatest of Israel's kings, and rule an unending kingdom.

How does Mary know that she can trust these promises? She doesn't really. "How can this be?" she asks. Oh, the angel points out the miraculous birth that is anticipated in her kinswoman Elizabeth's family. And yet, the announcements of miraculous births is certainly not limited in scripture to Mary. As the Angel Gabriel reminds her, Elizabeth's child is the result of a miracle. Isaac's birth to Sarah was certainly a miracle. My mother insists that my birth was a miracle, after 16 years of marriage and being told that she would never have children.

Mary is just like us. We like to think that today, believing in miracles is impossible. Even as Christians, many of us discount miracles as being allegorical in Scripture, or being descriptive of processes that today could be explained by science that was unavailable to those living in Biblical times. What was demonic possession in the year 25 of the common era we now describe as mental illness, for example.

We pride ourselves on being modern people immersed in a modern era. We think we live in a world circumscribed by natural laws that are immutable. And yet, miracles-- real miracles, not Tim Tebow's-leading-the Broncos-from-the-jaws-of-defeat-miracles, but-life-changing,glory-be-to-God miracles!-- happen even today. I mean, it probably COULD be called a miracle that I was not stopped for speeding this morning while trying to get my son to an appointment, and it probably COULD be called a miracle that it was only later I saw not one but FOUR police cars along that same deserted route, but once again the modern tendency toward hyperbole begs me to remind myself that we should be careful about diluting the meaning of important words, like love, or evil or miracle, through applying them where they do not belong. Miracles are rare. Miracles change the world.

Some miracles are incredible-- there's a Dutch parathlete named Monique van der Vorst who was an Olympic competitor in handcycling. She was involved in an accident with a bicycle last year, and afterwards, the feeling began to return to her feet and legs. Although she had been paralyzed from the hips down for 14 years, since she was 13 years old, she is now not only walking but is attempting to transition to being an athlete on the Rabobank women's professional bicycling team. No one can explain how she regained the full use of her legs. Then there's the story of Gabrielle Giffords. Although shot in the head from close range, she survived and is continuing her recovery. Her own doctors referred to her survival and recovery as "miraculous."

But miracles can be the dawning of a new day after a time of trial,the laughter of a longed-for baby or the clasp of the hand of a loved one in times of loneliness or fear, an incredible sunset over the Rockies that burnishes everything it lights in tones of scarlet and gold. Seeing a student who was struggling academically or emotionally suddenly not just survive but thrive has always been a miracle for me. The sound of our choir singing carols next week has always been a miracle for me.

The miracle in this story, to me, is Mary's acceptance and willingness to do as she is being asked by the unknown power that confronts her. True, we watching this narrative unfold know that this miraculous "yes" of Mary's will not mean that there is no heartbreak. Although Mary is confused, and has to try to puzzle out what originally is meant by what the angel says to her, in the end she makes herself the servant of the Lord. She gives the control over to God, and through her the entire universe is shifted and re-ordered. The miracle is the trust she has in God. The miracle is the faith she manifests. These are miracles especially to our modern eyes.

Nothing is impossible with God. NOTHING is impossible with God. Especially if we let God work through us, as Mary allows God to work through her. We can answer the call of God in our lives by being brave enough to trust in the promises God makes to us. In all times, not just now, being willing to let God move the world through us is how miracles happen. But first, we have to let go of our need to control everything in our lives, as Mary was and is. The miracle in this story is the softly murmured "yes" of Mary. Let it be with me according to your word. This is the ultimate example of faith. This is the ultimate example of God's love for us working THROUGH us. This is the love that frees us, that magnifies God's love and makes it present in a world that so needs it, now more than ever. Love that turns the powers of the world to dust, that establishes justice for the oppressed and comfort for the sorrowful. Love that inspires Mary to sing, as we hear in the Canticle of Mary later in the account from Luke:

And Mary said,
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

Amen.

How Christians are perceived...

First, I read this really great post from 2009 by Richard Beck at his blog. It's called "The Bait and Switch of Contemporary Christianity." Here's a key section, although I recommend the whole thing:

The trouble with contemporary Christianity is that a massive bait and switch is going on. "Christianity" has essentially become a mechanism for allowing millions of people to replace being a decent human being with something else, an endorsed "spiritual" substitute. For example, rather than being a decent human being the following is a list of some commonly acceptable substitutes:

Going to church

Worship

Praying

Spiritual disciplines (e.g., fasting)

Bible study

Voting Republican

Going on spiritual retreats

Reading religious books

Arguing with evolutionists

Sending your child to a Christian school or providing education at home

Using religious language

Avoiding R-rated movies

Not reading Harry Potter.

The point is that one can fill a life full of spiritual activities without ever, actually, trying to become a more decent human being. Much of this activity can actually distract one from becoming a more decent human being. In fact, some of these activities make you worse, interpersonally speaking. Many churches are jerk factories.

Amen, brother. Some of the biggest bitter, vindictive, angry, unpleasant twerps I have ever known have trumpeted their self-identification as Christians. They follow everything on that list (You know, I've got 1-5 and 7 down, but after that, I am not doing so well.) and yet not one bit of the Great Commandment do I see coming from their actions. And God knows I certainly am not perfect. Unfortunately, I have a wi-i-ide streak of smart-ass in me that just refuses to be tamed.

Mr. Beck makes a great point. I am reminded of this when I consider the publicity that right-wing groups get when they pressure retailers like Lowe's into pulling its advertising from "All-American Muslim" because they believe that all Muslims are terrorists and bent on destroying the West. They demonize all Muslims, and then Christians are all tarred with the brush of being intolerant from the actions of this group of badly behaving people who use the cover of Christianity to justify their actions.

Let's face it: often the loudest, most outrageous practitioners of any faith are the ones that become the face of that faith. Instead of generalizing from a random sample of a certain population, those who engage in demonization of various groups hypothesize from the behavior of the worst members of the group. The argument then runs, if some members of a group are evil, then all members of a group are evil. This is a common tactic used against many religions.

And Christianity certainly is not immune. Nor is it monolithic. The world sees the Rick Perrys and Newt Gingriches and Michelle Bachmans and, yes, the Jimmy Swaggarts of the world crowing about their Christianity and then judges an entire group by their actions, and all Christians become a watchword among the nations.  The other day, a neighbor asked me to explain creationism to her. When I stated that I didn't believe in creationism, she looked confused and said, "But... I thought you were a Christian or religious or something...?"

It seems that hymn I grew up with was wrong. They don't seem to know we are Christians by our love. They seem to know we are Christians only if we proclaim our status, especially if there is a disconnect between our proclamations and our actions. Then, because of our "personal relationship with Jesus," we can do whatever we want, since we are "4given 4ever," as I saw on the bumper of a gigantic pickup truck the other day. I mean, when gang members wear rosaries and crucifixes become fashion statements, what is left for the Christian who seeks to invest her energy in trying to be a "more decent human being," in Beck's words?

Those of us who actually try to live the Gospel and follow the teachings of Jesus have to make ourselves more visible. Our actions need to not only whisper but shout.

Prayer for Trouble

Almighty and Loving God, who has promised that when two or three are praying, You are among us also: uphold, we pray, your servant ____ in all the cares and concerns of this life, and grant your mighty aid to him/her and his/her family this day and every day. Amen.

Like Those Who Dream

When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream.

Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy;

Then it was said among the nations, "The Lord has done great things for them."

The Lord has done great things for us, and we rejoiced.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like the watercourses of the Negev.

May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy.

Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing,

Shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.
--Psalm 126

It's a hard time of year for many of us. The darkness of short days seems not just a fact of nature but a metaphor for feelings of loneliness and loss.We dwell upon the wish for sun as some of us rise before the sun and return home after the subsiding into night again, so the sun evades us like a debtor but darkness lingers like an unwanted visitor. This time of year is a time of darkness, and we dream of a glorious return of spring with its promise of so many possibilities.

It is the third week of Advent, and we wait upon the point of a memory of new life that was and is and ever shall be.

We know our waiting holds forth the promise of life for the barren fields and the promise of love for our barren hearts, as the Lord of Love Himself asks us to make straight the way in the wilderness of all our willfulness and selfishness and pettiness. If only we allow ourselves to remember, we could know that the snow and ice of winter will subside to leaf and bloom. If we let go of the chill that invades our hearts as we feel so lost and alone in the darkness, we know that He is coming indeed just when we need him the most.

We long to be like those who dream, who trust that when the Morning Star rises we will again remember the joy that merely waits for us to open our hearts and let it reign over us. We will awaken after our long night into the Light given to us through the grace and love of God. God be praised, our waiting is almost fulfilled. Alleluia!

Thomas Merton

Today is the 43rd anniversary of the death of Thomas Merton in Bangkok while at an interfaith monastic convocation, and it is ALSO the 70th anniversary of his entry into the monastic life when he arrived at the Abbey of Gethsemani on December 10, 1941.

Father Merton is remembered today as one of the most important Roman Catholic writers of the 20th century. It is fascinating that at the end of his life he was acutely interested in ecumenical work, reaching out to Protestants (Merton had been baptized in the Church of England) and finding common cause with monastic Buddhists.

The words I want to dwell upon today by Father Merton reflect upon a concern that is ongoing: the concern about the role and function of the Church in a "post-Christian" age which many believe has already overtaken Europe. In the text I include, Merton is discussing those like Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Anglican Bishop John A.T. Robinson who had been advocating consideration of a "religionless religion."

"I honestly think there is a presence of Christ to the unbeliever, especially in our day, and this presence, which is not formally "religious" and which escapes definition (hence the inadequacy of terms like "invisible Church" or "latent Church"), is perhaps the deepest most cogent mystery of our time. The Lord who speaks of freedom in the ground of our being still continues to speak to every man. The thing that Christians must understand about this is that there is no use whatever trying to "get these people into the Church" or to make "believers" out of them. There is perhaps no way of bringing them a specifically Christian comfort which would in any case only disturb or confuse them. What is needed is to love them with a love completely divested of all formally religious pre-suppositions, simply as our fellow men, men who seek truth and freedom as we do. This love is not simply an act of benevolent, condescending, and tolerant charity on our part. It can also be for us a means of knowing Christ better, by entering into the mystery of the hidden encounter which marks the lives of these others in a way that neither they nor we can understand. We cannot understand it, but by means of love we can experience its reality nonetheless." (from Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander)

Isaiah 61: 1-4, 8-11

The scripture Jesus read in the synagogue as he began his ministry, which he declared fulfilled in the presence of those who were hearing him, shocking them all. Jesus waits to bring us salvation, salvation rooted in the here and now, salvation that we do not have to wait for until we get to heaven, but salvation that helps us deal with the sorrows of this world: oppression, sadness and heartbreak, freedom, strength, justice, renewal. God offers us this today, not in some distant future. Alleluia!

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion— to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. 

They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory. They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations.... 

For I the Lord love justice, I hate robbery and wrongdoing; I will faithfully give them their recompense, and I will make an everlasting covenant with them. 

Their descendants shall be known among the nations, and their offspring among the peoples; all who see them shall acknowledge that they are a people whom the Lord has blessed.

I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation, he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. 

For as the earth brings forth its shoots, and as a garden causes what is sown in it to spring up, so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations. 

Prayer for Those Who Mourn

Almighty God, under whose tender love we are sheltered and protected; remember, we pray, our beloved sister who now abides in everlasting peace with you; and comfort us and all who mourn, for you have been and remain our refuge and Beloved Friend from age to age, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Advent and Commerce

I find it fascinating that the Christian season of Advent also coincides with the most cut-throat and strongly hyped season of consumerism. It is estimated that 40% of all retail spending is completed during the approximately five weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas. This spending is allegedly done in an attempt by people to allegedly observe a secular tradition that has grown up and overtaken a Christian holiday like kudzu has taken over the Southern US. What irony!

I think the thing that troubles me the most about this is people spending money they do not have on stuff they do not need, and worse feeling that if they do not do this for their children as well then they are failures. And so they will pay twice as much for something they don't really need by buying it on credit and streeeettttching out those payments for months.

And all this is going on during Advent, a time when reverence and waiting-- not fulfilling our desires now now now!-- should be our attitude.

Maybe that this is a time of year when some of us-- myself in particular-- have a hard time seeing the beauty around us. It's cold. It's dark. This crap called "snow" comes down and makes life miserable, at least for me. I long for sunlight and warmth. And it's at this time of the year that the church chooses to celebrate the birth of our savior. But perhaps it's at this time of year that I am called to pay attention most of all. There's nothing else to distract me, after all. And is the darkness, the glow of a candle burns with a purpose.

Barbara Brown Taylor tells a story in her book An Altar in the World. She talks about how she was taking care of a neighbor's cats while the neighbor was away. The house was full of fleas, and as she was carrying out the trash she could hear the fleas flinging themselves against the plastic garbage bag as she made her way to the garbage cans:

I could not wait to be shed of it, which was why I was in a hurry. On my way to the cans, I noticed a small garden area off to my left that was not visible from the house. Glancing at it, I got a whole dose of loveliness at once-- the high arch of trees above, the mossy flagstones beneath,the cement birdbath, the cushiony bushes, the white wrought-iron chair-- all lit by stacked planes of sunlight that turned the whole scene golden. It was like a door to another world. I had to go through it. I knew that if I did, then I would become golden too.

But first I had to ditch the bag. The flea popped against the plastic as I hurries to the big aluminum garbage cans near the garage. Stuffing the bag into one of them, i turned back to the garden, fervent to explore what I had only glimpsed in passing. When I got there, the light had changed. All that was left was a little overgrown sitting spot that no one had sat in for years. The smell of cat litter drifted from the direction of the garbage cans. The garden was no longer on fire.

'I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it,' says Shug Avery, one of the wise women in Alice Walker's book The Color Purple. I noticed the color gold, but I did not turn aside. I had a bag full of fleas to attend to. While I made that my first priority, the fire moved on in search of someone who would stop what she was doing, take off her shoes, and say, 'Here am I.'

So much about Christmas in our culture is about as appealing as that bag full of fleas, but we tell ourselves that this has to be done and that has to be done, forgetting all the time the real reason why there is all this gift-giving in the first place. As we rush from store to store, we forget all about the coming of that baby who will lay aside everything just for us, who will be God With Us, Emmanuel. We have been given a gift in Advent in being called to be watchful, and reverent, in making ourselves ready.

We are given a gift in the coming Son of God who will be with us always, if we don't barge right past him on the way to that holiday sale at the mall. The purple of Advent beckons quietly.

There is a voice I want to hear. The voice says, "Be still, and know that I am God." The God that loves all of us, that wants us to give our time and our attention.

SC Bishop Lawrence-- I am reminded of President James Buchanan

Here's a bishop who makes it easy for parishes to secede from the Episcopal Church WITH their property. He says he can do nothing, but claims he has done nothing to abandon the Episcopal Church. And there's no disciple that can be applied? Reporter Mary Frances Sjonberg writes in the Episcopal New Service:

The Episcopal Church's Disciplinary Board for Bishops Nov. 28 said it cannot certify that Diocese of South Carolina Bishop Mark Lawrence has abandoned the communion of the church.

"Based on the information before it, the board was unable to make the conclusions essential to a certification that Bishop Lawrence had abandoned the communion of the church," the Rt. Rev. Dorsey F. Henderson Jr., board president, said in a statement e-mailed to Lawrence and reporters. (Henderson said he informed Lawrence of the board's conclusion by telephone as well.)

The board met Nov. 22 via conference call to consider information given it by a group of communicants in the diocese.

Under Title IV, Canon 16, a bishop is deemed to have abandoned the communion of the Episcopal Church by an open renunciation of the doctrine, discipline or worship of the church; by formal admission into any religious body not in communion with the church; or by exercising episcopal acts in and for a religious body other than the church or another church in communion with the church.

"Applied strictly to the information under study, none of these three provisions was deemed applicable by a majority of the board," Henderson said in his statement.

In the Nov. 28 statement, Henderson said that the disciplinary board faced what he called a "basic question" of "whether actions by conventions of the Diocese of South Carolina, though they seem -- I repeat, seem -- to be pointing toward abandonment of the church and its discipline by the diocese, and even though supported by the bishop, constitute abandonment by the bishop."

"A majority of the members of the board was unable to conclude that they do," Henderson said.

Henderson, the retired bishop of Upper South Carolina, noted that it is "significant that Bishop Lawrence has repeatedly stated that he does not intend to lead the diocese out of the Episcopal Church -- that he only seeks a safe place within the church to live the Christian faith as that diocese perceives it."

"I speak for myself only at this point, that I presently take the bishop at his word, and hope that the safety he seeks for the apparent majority in his diocese within the larger church will become the model for safety -- a "safe place" -- for those under his episcopal care who do not agree with the actions of South Carolina's convention and/or his position on some of the issues of the church."

Lawrence told the diocese Oct. 5 that he was being investigated for abandonment. Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori and the House of Bishops were not involved in making the claims, Henderson said at the time via a "fact sheet."

The package of documents alleging his abandonment of the church that Lawrence said he received Sept. 29 from Henderson, is posted here on the diocese's website. The documents contained 12 allegations of when Lawrence's "actions and inactions" sought to abandon the doctrine, discipline and worship of the Episcopal Church.

Those allegations cited five specific diocesan convention resolutions that Lawrence supported. In addition, the allegations also claimed that Lawrence has removed all references to the Episcopal Church from the diocesan website and noted that half of the congregations with working website have done the same or offer links to breakaway Anglican organizations.

"The bishop appears to have done nothing to stop other parishes which are outwardly moving in the direction of withdrawal" from the Episcopal Church, including parishes that have sought or obtained legal advice on those moves, allegation seven said.

Three allegations referenced comments made by Lawrence about what he calls the Episcopal Church's "false gospel of indiscriminate inclusivity" and his description of the church as a "comatose patient" that has slowed down Anglicanism in the 21st century.

It is also alleged that missions are being planted in the diocese but Lawrence has not recognized "a congregation of loyal Episcopalians" as a parish or mission.

The 12th allegation surrounded the circumstances of the ordination of Lawrence's son.

The diocesan leadership has engaged in a series of moves to distance itself from the Episcopal Church, ultimately stemming from disagreements over human sexuality issues and theological interpretation. In October 2009 the diocese authorized Lawrence and the Standing Committee to begin withdrawing from churchwide bodies that assent to "actions deemed contrary to Holy Scripture, the doctrine, discipline and worship of Christ as this church has received them, the resolutions of the Lambeth Conference which have expressed the mind of the communion, the Book of Common Prayer and our Constitution and Canons, until such bodies show a willingness to repent of such actions."

That authorization came in response to two General Convention resolutions passed two months earlier that focused on human sexuality and reaffirmed the Episcopal Church's commitment to the Anglican Communion. Resolution D025 affirms "that God has called and may call" gay and lesbian people "to any ordained ministry in the Episcopal Church." Resolution C056 calls for the collection and development of theological resources for the blessing of same-gender blessings and allows bishops to provide "a generous pastoral response to meet the needs of members of this church."

In his Nov. 23 interview with the Living Church Lawrence said that provision gave permission to bishops to act contrary to the Episcopal Church's canons, its prayer book, church history and the church's historic teaching on marriage.

In October 2010, the South Carolina convention approved six resolutions in response to General Convention's 2009 passage of revised Title IV canons on clergy discipline, according to an explanation posted on the diocese's homepage before the convention. The convention met again in February 2011 and passed two of those resolutions again as required, amending the diocesan constitution to remove the accession clause to the canons of the Episcopal Church and to enable the convention to meet more frequently than annually. The diocesan said at the time that the resolutions were meant to "protect the diocese from any attempt at un-constitutional intrusions in our corporate life in South Carolina."

At Lawrence's direction, Diocesan Chancellor Wade Logan Nov. 16 sent a quitclaim deed to every parish in the diocese. A quitclaim deed generally transfers ownership of the property from the party issuing the deed to the recipient.

"For 190 years (1789-1979) there had never been any idea that somehow the parishes did not completely and fully own their property," Logan said in his letter posted here. He said the diocese could issue quitclaim deeds because the state Supreme Court has said that the 1979 passage by the General Convention of the so-called Dennis Canon was not binding on the parish of All Saints, Pawley's Island, South Carolina.

The "Dennis Canon" (Canon 1.7.4) states that a parish holds its property in trust for the diocese and the Episcopal Church.

Logan said in his Nov. 16 letter to parishes that removing the accession clause was part of the "continued pursuit of our historic unity based on common vision rather than legal coercion."

The quitclaim action was not included in the original material submitted to the board.

Lawrence told the Living Church on Nov. 23 that he issued the quitclaim deed in part because "the threat of property disputes" should not be "the only thing that holds us together."

"Jesus gave Peter the keys to the kingdom, not the keys to the building," he said.

Lawrence said that when he awoke the day after having decided to issue the deeds he felt that "for the first time, I am the bishop of this diocese."

The disciplinary board's investigation of Lawrence appears to be among the first it has conducted. The board was created under the revised Title IV canons on ecclesiastical discipline which went into effect on July 1. The board is made up of 10 bishops elected at any regularly scheduled meeting of the House of Bishops, and four priests or deacons and four lay persons initially appointed by the president of the House of Deputies with the Executive Council and thereafter elected by the House of Deputies. Henderson noted in his fact sheet that the board "operates confidentially."

James Buchanan was president at the time of the election of Abraham Lincoln. Although a Pennsylvanian, he took no action when states seceded from the Union, claiming that he was powerless and thus encouraging that behavior. This story is truly troubling.

Meditation on Advent with Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I just bought God is in the Manger, a collection of reflections by Dietrich Bonhoeffer about Advent and Christmas taken from his writings while he was imprisoned by the Nazis from 1943-1945 and prior to his execution on April 8, 1945.

What is fascinating is how Bonhoeffer compared the situation of being imprisoned and the enforced waiting of one in prison to Advent.

"[Jesus] comes in the form of a beggar, of the dissolute human child in ragged clothes, asking for help. He confronts you in every person that you meet. As long as there are people, Christ will walk the Earth as your neighbor, as the one through whom God calls you, speaks to you, makes demands on you. This is the great seriousness and great blessedness of the Advent message."

This builds so beautifully upon what I have been thinking about since Christ the King Sunday.

We are told during Advent to be awake, be watchful. But, as Pastor Bonhoeffer notes, we are also called to action. It is not enough to note that there are those who are poor, who are suffering, who thirst for knowledge. We are called to act upon this. In my life, I have felt that part of my particular ministry is teaching. We teach by our words, and by our example, and through our willingness not just to talk but to listen. I am constantly hoping to do better in my work with my students. We have to see the face of Christ in all those who need our help. Would we deny Jesus anything if we knew it was he who asked?

This book is meant to be read as a series of daily devotions, so I will be thinking more about what Pastor Bonhoeffer has to say during the season.

First Sunday in Advent, year B

 ‘From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

 ‘But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.’ -- Mark 13: 28-37

Reflection on Christ the King Sunday

This last Sunday, November 20, was Christ the King Sunday. It was the last Sunday of Year A, and as such, the final statement of the lectionary year before we rotate into Year B and Advent. The question of Christ as King coming right before Advent is incredibly relevant. In four short weeks we will be singing, “Hark! the herald angels sing! Glory to the newborn king!”

I once heard a sermon comparing Christ the King to Burger King—this wasn’t the whole thrust, but it was part of the thrust, and I have to admit I was bemused and wondered at how far afield we get when we contemplate Christ as the King. I think this may be because we are uncomfortable with the idea of a person wielding that kind of power in our lives. We Americans are deeply suspicious of kings and monarchies. A few Anglophiles, of which I admit I am one, dote upon the idea of the British monarchy, partly because the British monarch seems a monarch tamed by modernity. She and her family play polo or chivvy foxes about the countryside or breed corgis; they cut ribbons at the opening of shopping malls or factories; and every now and then the heir to the throne opens his mouth and says something ridiculous or one of their princes gets caught smoking pot and we laugh, thinking that they are just like us—only billionaires. This vision of a monarch is small, and not exactly relevant to our lives, a quaint little anachronism in a modern era, and even though she is technically the secular head of the Church of England, even we Episcopalians don’t get too worked up about her. Too often she is a symbol to us rather than a flesh and blood person. She doesn’t seem to wield too much power, and so we are basically unconcerned with her. Because she doesn’t seem to wield much power, she doesn’t seem to be very “queenly.”

If we contemplate kings at all in a more serious way, we often think of despots throughout history—those who HAVE wielded power, usually in the name of injustice. The Shah of Iran, for instance. Few shed a tear when he was deposed, although the regime that followed afterwards certainly did no better in responding to the needs of the Iranian people. Then there are those who have not arrogated the title “king” to themselves but behaved as one with absolute power over their people, and this list is long: Idi Amin in Uganda, Papa Doc Duvalier in Haiti, Josef Stalin behind the Iron Curtain, Nikolai Ceausescu in Romania, Adolf Hitler in World War II, Augusto Pinochet of Chile, Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe, Than Shwe in Burma, Omar al-Bashir in what is now northern Sudan. And the list rolls on. These men were or are all about power, absolute use and abuse of power.

So then we are faced with the idea of Christ the King, and we don’t seem to know how to talk about it at all. But we aren't really Christian at all UNLESS we give Jesus that kind of power in our lives.

Perhaps this is because even Jesus himself often seemed to dodge the question when asked directly about it. In all four gospels, Jesus is questioned by Pilate if he is the king of the Jews (Matthew 27, Mark 15, Luke 23, and John 18). Even the translators of the original texts cannot agree on how Jesus answers. Some translations have Jesus answering, “Yes, it is as you have said,” while others translated Jesus saying basically, “So YOU have said.” But Jesus makes it clear that he is not a king of a kingdom on Earth. Jesus is king in the kingdom of God, which Luke 17: 20-21 makes clear is within all of us who follow Jesus.

The gospel reading chosen for Christ the King Sunday in Year A is Matthew 25: 31-46. In the narrative of Matthew, this conversation occurs between Jesus and his disciples before he is questioned by Pilate. The text we saw this last Sunday was in the context of describing the “kingdom of heaven”—a phrase which is only used in Matthew’s gospel, although it is used repeatedly—31 times, in fact. Chapter 25 of Matthew focuses on the kingdom of heaven, and indeed for the last three Sundays concluding with Christ the King Sunday we have been hearing Jesus describe the kingdom of heaven. First we heard that the kingdom of heaven was like the parable of the ten bridesmaids (Matthew 25: 1- 13) and like the parable of the talents (Matthew 25: 14- 30) and then Christ the King Sunday focuses on the Judgment of the Nations in the gospel reading. At first, Jesus certainly describes a king filled with worldly power: that king will sit on a throne of glory and of judgment and he will sort out the sheep and the goats. Sheep are those that follow the shepherd and they inspire care and concern in the shepherd. Goats, however, are stubborn and willful. They do not follow easily. They are independent. They go their own way. Our society definitely seems to admire the qualities of the goat over the qualities of the sheep.

Now, to our modern city-raised ears, we have some misconceptions about sheep. We think they’re dumb; we think they are foolish. We think of sheepdogs –like the ones many of us own as pets-- nipping at their heels and herding them through the use of fear and intimidation. But this is not the image that Jesus is calling to mind. Instead, in Jesus’ time, sheep were wealth. They provided everything for life: wool for clothing to keep one warm in sickness and in health, milk to care for the thirsty, and meat for the hungry. Jesus does not herd us through fear and intimidation. Jesus calls to us through love and in love and as love, as the Old Testament reading in Ezekiel 34 confirms. Ezekiel also describes goats as being disgusting and stupid: they trample the good grass under their feet and foul the water which they will drink, which is not only shortsighted but foolish. This verse made me think of the way many of us treat the environment with the justification that we have been given it to do with it what we will.

But in the kingdom of heaven, we want to be the sheep. We want to obey the shepherd. We want to follow the will of the king in order to be admitted into the kingdom. But where and what is this kingdom? Throughout the gospels Jesus makes it clear that the kingdom of God is within us, and bringing it into fruition is our responsibility. And indeed, the gospel reading for the Sunday of Christ the King tells us the same thing: we created the kingdom when we fed the hungry and gave a drink to the thirsty, when we clothed those who were cold and naked, when we comforted the sick or the imprisoned.

Notice the parallels to what sheep really provide to their human counterparts and what Jesus expects us to do as the subjects of the king. They are very much the same things.

It is also clear: the geography of this kingdom lies upon and within our hearts. The kingdom over which Jesus reigns is not in a place or in a time just as God does not exist within the boundaries of space or time. Jesus is God’s physical presence within space and time, within our understanding of the universe. Jesus’ power as king does not come from compulsion, or force, or power as earthly kings wield, but through the power of love and through example. Jesus’ power as king over our lives is not the power of demand but the power of love. We follow Christ and obey Christ through the choice of our will, which is what the root of the word, “voluntarily,” means.

The kingdom of heaven is also not centered upon our own personal salvation. Making Christ our king means letting love and caritas rule our hearts. Once we accept Jesus as our Lord and king, we are not done. Making a choice to save ourselves is easy. That is why true salvation lies in what we do for others rather than what we do for ourselves by clinging to Jesus like a lifeline. As we are reminded, if we want to save our lives, we must be willing to look beyond ourselves. Proclaiming Jesus’ name will not bring about the kingdom of heaven—living out Jesus’ love among our fellow beings will bring about the kingdom of heaven and show that Jesus is our king. We acknowledge our king not by words but through deeds.

The kingdom of heaven is one in which those who serve others are the ones who do God’s will. To acknowledge Jesus as our king is to give him the authority to help us behave to bring the kingdom of heaven to fruition right here, right now, for we ARE mortals living through time and space. As Christians, we are to act in specific love for those around us by the command of Jesus, our king, the bridge between this world and God. Oh, that all those who proclaim their faith in Jesus would act upon his saving grace to reach out to save others. That is what the kingdom of heaven is, and we have to overcome our republican preferences in this one. The Prince of Peace and Lord of Love is Our King. Amen.

Be Thou My Vision

One of my favorite hymns, sung to the tune of Slane:

Here are the lyrics  from the 1982 Hymnal of the Episcopal Church, slightly different from those in the video:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
all else be nought to me, save that thou art--
Thou my best thought, by day or by night,
waking or sleeping, thy presence my light.

Be thou my wisdom, and thou my true word;
I ever with thee, and thou with me Lord,
thou my great Father; thine own may I be;
thou in me dwelling, and I one with thee.

High King of Heaven, when victory is won,
may I reach heaven's joys, bright heaven's Sun!
Heart of my heart, whatever befall,
still be my vision, O Ruler of All!

Deconsecrating a sacred space

I was just reading on the Episcopal News Service about the ongoing consequences from the devastating earthquake that struck Christchurch, New Zealand on February 21, 2011: the cathedral for the Dicoese of Christchurch was so badly damaged that it had to be deconsecrated on November 9. It seems that the Diocese is currently without a cathedral. The original cathedral had been in use for 130 years:

The 130-year-old spiritual centerpiece of Christchurch on Nov. 9 was reduced to an ordinary ruin. And all in the space of half an hour.

Up to 350 people gathered in Cathedral Square for the service of deconsecration, the culmination of several months of safety assessments after a 6.3-magnitude earthquake in February reduced the cathedral's spire to rubble and a June 13 jolt caused further damage.

The deconsecration service, led by Diocese of ChristChurch Bishop Victoria Matthews, was attended primarily by members of the cathedral congregation, but a scattering of civic representatives included earthquake minister Gerry Brownlee.

Facing the broken entrance – albeit at a safe distance – the congregation gave thanks for the extraordinary life and ministry of the place since the original consecration by Bishop Henry Harper in November 1881.

"We did not treat this space as we would ordinary space, but as we would treat the very presence of God," they intoned in the litany. "Today we return this space to the common, and return this place to the earth."

In his mihi of welcome, Cathedral Dean Peter Beck noted that "this is a sad day, and yet another step in the recovery and rebuilding of our city."

He paid tribute to the many "living stones" which had held the spirit of Christchurch for so many years, and concluded with a prayer from former U.N. Secretary General Dag Hammarskjold: "For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes!"

In her homily, Matthews acknowledged the prevailing sorrow but focused on the hope of resurrection.

"In homelessness, God's love is still with us," she said. "This is not a time to lose hope. We need to move on, knowing that what God has in store for us is more magnificent … We are a work in progress…

"Even as we deconsecrate, as we shed our tears, let us be full of hope because we go forward in the mission of Christ. It is the mission that matters … Let us be a pilgrim people – people of the resurrection."

Moving to the formal deconsecration, Matthews said: "I do remit this building, and all objects remaining in it, for any lawful and reputable use, according to the laws of this land.

"This building, having now been deconsecrated and secularized, I declare to be no longer subject to my canonical jurisdiction."

The next step in the cathedral saga is to make safe what remains of the building and to assess what may give rise to a new centerpiece.

Meanwhile, the search continues for land on which to erect a transitional cathedral.

I love the call to be a pilgrim people by the Bishop of Christchurch. I know that this may seem like yet one more blow after the loss of life and the destruction of the center of the city. If you recall, it had been originally feared that there may have been as many as 20 people in the spire, which collapsed, but luckily no one was found in the rubble.

I continue to keep the people of Christchurch in my prayers. Having lived through the Good Friday tornado here, I know that it takes many months to restore what is destroyed in natural disasters, if indeed recovery can ever be complete.

May God bless those who were affected by this disaster.