One Step Closer: Religion & Popular Culture

UPDATE: President Obama on Prayer

2012-02-02T12:15:00.000-05:00

(Turns out I made a mistake: this post's original quotes and link was on last year's National Prayer Breakfast! At today's breakfast, the President said:

"We know that part of living in a pluralistic society means that our personal religious beliefs alone can't dictate our response to every challenge we face. But in my moments of prayer, I'm reminded that faith and values play an enormous role in motivating us to solve some of our most urgent problems, in keeping us going when we suffer setbacks, and opening our minds and our hearts to the needs of others."

I like it, but I like last year's even better!!! So I'm leaving it up as well!)

Keeping with tradition (going back to President Eisenhower), President Obama attended the National Prayer Breakfast. CNN posted his remarks, which featured a lighthearted moment particular to a parent:

As I travel across the country folks often ask me what is it that I pray for. And like most of you, my prayers sometimes are general: Lord, give me the strength to meet the challenges of my office. Sometimes they’re specific: Lord, give me patience as I watch Malia go to her first dance - (laughter) - where there will be boys. (Laughter.) Lord, have that skirt get longer as she travels to that dance. (Laughter.)

Just after this, the President gets serious in a rather profound way:

But while I petition God for a whole range of things, there are a few common themes that do recur. The first category of prayer comes out of the urgency of the Old Testament prophets and the Gospel itself. I pray for my ability to help those who are struggling. Christian tradition teaches that one day the world will be turned right side up and everything will return as it should be. But until that day, we're called to work on behalf of a God that chose justice and mercy and compassion to the most vulnerable.

(I posted this first on Episcopal Cafe)

"Come and See"

2012-01-17T10:46:00.001-05:00

(A sermon preached on 1/15/2012 at All Saints' Episcopal, Littleton, NH)

There are certain words and phrases that should be used with great care: especially when considering those you are speaking to.

For example, adults speaking to teenagers should be careful before saying “When I was your age....”

No matter how good your intentions, the teen is likely to think:

You were NEVER my age
You are speaking only as an authority telling me what to do

As an Episcopal priest, I try to be very selective with the word “must”.

Like the phrase “when I was your age”, “must” within church has too often been used to express unquestionable authority.

“You must go to church on Sundays”

“You must give your money to the church”

“You must obey these rules”

“You must hold these beliefs”

So it is carefully, with great thought, that I used these words to close my current newsletter article:

“We must invite others---skeptics and believers alike---to “come and see”.

These words, “Come and see”, are used in this morning’s Gospel (John1:43-51). They are first used a few verses before our excerpt this morning:

Jesus turns and sees two men following him:

“What are you looking for?” They said to him, “Rabbi” (which translated means Teacher), “where are you staying?” He said to them, “Come and see.”

Soon afterwards, Phillip is called by Jesus to “Follow me”. This leads to an exchange between he and Nathanael:

Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.”

In the tradition of Jesus in the Gospel of John, we must invite people to “Come and See”. We can no longer sit idly by and hope that people will come to visit us and stay as members of our community. Jesus did not simply walk around hoping people would form a long line behind him. He went and asked people to “come and see” where he abides: what kind of new life he is living and is offering to others. (From the Diocesan Come & See manual)

This DOES NOT mean that we are to tell people that they must join our church, or believe as we do, or even become Christians....

The must is the invite.

We are not only called to live out our faith by loving God and neighbor as ourselves, but to share that we choose to live this way.

We are to demonstrate our faith, and even at times do the thing that many of us are most afraid of: talking about it with others!

Many of us have been scared off by those who share their faith with an “in your face” style: usually with a not so veiled message that failure to comply means punishment in hell. We are right to recoil and reject so called evangelism that threatens and condemns those who are “outside” of whatever has been declared “in”.

This type of so called witnessing hasn’t just hurt the groups and individuals deemed outside, but they have been devastating to the name of Christianity. The negative view they have created has not only been hurtful to Christianity: they have prevented many Christians from sharing the truly important aspects of our lives with others.

After all, our faith opens our hearts and minds to see and experience:

the beauty of creation

love of our neighbor

the promise of good news for the poor

movement towards justice and peace

hope for the world

If these are indeed the things that we value, and if this is the community where we come together to celebrate these ideals and work towards their realization, then it is critical that we learn how to share the impact that they have on our lives with others.

If we fail to try and talk about our values, giving into fear and worry over potential awkwardness or offense, we will prevent ourselves from forging honest relationships with others, and we will be leaving Christianity to be defined by those who would use it to exclude and condemn.

It’s not easy, but it’s that important...

So: how do we share our faith with others?

It believe it begins with honest awareness: Old Eli tells young Samuel to listen and respond to the Lord. Eli then tells Samuel to honestly share what he has heard: don’t be afraid and don’t hold back.

Awareness refers to being fully present with those with whom you interact. While sometimes we might enter a conversation with the intent to share our values, more often than not, the right time to do so may is within a conversation where we are carefully listening to what someone is saying and we are invited to respond.

The key to these conversations is openness and vulnerability. Genuine sharing is risky because it allows for the possibility to be changed, as well as rejected. It’s worth remembering that none of us are finished products: we all have new ways to encounter God and learn from each other. If we ourselves are open to transformation, we will not only continue to learn and grow, but others will better hear what we are saying, regardless of whether they agree or not.

And finally, when the spirit moves you do so, be willing to invite people to come and see your church community:

Come and see why All Saints’ holds a place in your heart, what it offers you and the community, and why it receives your time, talent and treasure.

Remember: the invite is only to come and see. By doing so, the hope is that those you invite will, at the very least, better understand what one community is doing in the name of Jesus.

And, perhaps, they will want to see more...

More on Cee Lo's "Imagine"

2012-01-11T08:44:00.000-05:00

For some reason, I woke up inthe middle of the night, thinking about my post on Cee Lo’s “And all religion’s true.” This is not usual for me…

So, upon reflection and someearly morning writing, I want to give a little more credit to Cee Lo’s changeto Imagine.

If we imagine that there’s noheaven or hell, no country, and the rest of the vision leading up to the line,then it’s not a stretch for the results to be that “And all religion’strue.” In other words, religion becomesmore purely the way of life that one subscribes to, that’s not based on saying,“I’m right and you’re wrong”. Religionbecomes one’s particular ordering of life attuned to one’s genuineunderstanding of the world, and thus “all religion’s true” because it becomesone’s way, not the way.

That seems to fit Cee Lo’sexplanation of his lyric change. It alsoaffirms Tripp Hudgins response: "Given the religious strife in theworld, expressing a love for humanity through all the world'sreligion was generous and very appropriate for a New Year celebration."

I still prefer Lennon’sversion because the way religion currently gets used is like the things thatthe song imagines no longer: heaven,hell, country, possessions…imagine these no longer divide humanity. In Cee Lo’s version, “all religion’s true” isa results of imagining, where in the original religion is seen as one of thethings that currently keeps us from each other’s mutual benefit andunderstanding.

It’s possible that Cee Lo wasaddressing what some certainly hear in the original lyrics: that imagining “no religion” is a call toreject all religion as a bad thing. Certainly I’ve encountered that understanding, but I come back to theidea that the song as a whole imagines what it would belike if we didn’t use these things as weapons of division. It is not acall to simply reject all understanding of afterlife, country, religion andpossession. Instead (repeating my lastpost’s ending) the vision of heaven, the love of country, the wisdom inreligion, and the use of one's possessions is intended to bring us intocommunity and closer together. The hope of the song, when we finishimagining, is to see the possibility of connectedness and mutual respect from withinour differences.

Cee Lo's "Imagine"

2012-01-10T16:02:00.001-05:00

I have two thoughts on Cee Lo's controversial version of John Lennon's Imagine, where he replaced the phrase "And no religion too" with "And all religion's true" on the New Year's Eve broadcast:

1) Cee Lo, in his public performance of Imagine, has every right to make the performance his by changing notes and lyrics, PROVIDED that he was within the copyright law permissions of the song's performance. Changing lyrics without permission of a copyrighted song is a violation. Only Cee Lo and whoever currently owns the song (Yoko?) know whether or not this is the case. I'm assuming that with a well known piece like Imagine, that he had permission, since people were certain to notice the change. Regardless, fans of John Lennon need not be up in arms over changing the "sacredness" of the words. That's artistic license. Bono and U2 do this all the time with their own songs and lyrics (so they certainly have the legal right, even if their fans don't always like the changes). Cee Lo certainly wasn't trying to pass his version off as the "real lyrics". Perhaps it was naive of him to think that he could change something like Imagne without people really reacting (which I have to say, is unlike the Bible, where people get away with changing the "lyrics" all the time!)

2) Having defended his right (to a point) to change the lyrics, I think it is an interesting question as to whether or not one agrees with Cee Lo's understanding that arises from the change.

In his blog post "Cee Lo, Tebow and American Fundamentalisms", Tripp Hudgins writes: "Given the religious strife in the world, expressing a love for humanity through all the world's religion was generous and very appropriate for a New Year celebration."

Cee Lo himself says that it was a stab at advocating universal acceptance:

"I will say that it's all about love....It was all done out of love and out of peace and unity and tolerance and acceptance and all those many wonderful things that seem cliche and a little bit cheesy."

I agree with the point of both Hudgins and Cee Lo's statements. But clearly this is NOT what everyone heard in the words: "And all religion's true."

Some likely think that this means that every religion is equal. And since some religions say that only their religion is true, it’s clear that, one way or another, that there’s something not true here...

I’m also concerned with the reality that many people have been abused by words from religions. That's not true.

People also, in the name of religion, condemn others. That's not true either.

I'll give Cee Lo the benefit of the doubt that he was trying to be inclusive. And I do believe that there is truth to be found in most religions. But the statement that “All religion’s true” just isn’t.

John Lennon’s lyrics work best because the song imagines the end of all the things that people use to justify hurt, superiority, and injustice. These include the pursuit of heaven, country, religion and possessions at the expense of others. The song imagines what it would be like if we didn’t use these things as weapons of division. Instead, the vision of heaven, the love of country, the wisdom in religion, and the use of one's possessions is intended to bring us into community and closer together. The hope of the song, when we finish imagining, is to see the possibility of connectedness and mutual respect from within our differences.

Call me a dreamer!

The bishop, the "shock jock", and the surprise of God's love

2012-01-06T09:47:00.004-05:00

Yesterday I heard an amazing testimony to God's love, as well as an example of remaining calm in the midst of an anxiety producing storm.

My former bishop, The Rt. Rev. Mark Hollingsworth Jr. of the Episcopal Diocese of Ohio, found himself with a Cleveland "shock jock" who had mocked the bishop's (and the diocese's) statement:

"God loves you. No exceptions."

The broadcast does a good job setting up the circumstances that led to the bishop being in studio.

Mark was simply remarkable despite being cut off and provoked over and over again (especially in the beginning of the "conversation"). He never raised his voice and never responded with anger, while all the time demonstrating a strong sense of mission to proclaim the surprising love of God.

You can listen to the broadcast here.

The comments from the listeners are rather appreciative of the bishop.

Lynda Bernays wrote: "Thank you, Bishop Hollingsworth, for stating so clearly, over and over, that God loves us. You are a voice of radical welcome and acceptance in a world that has way too much rejection and hatred -- everyone needs to know that God's love is ever-present, and through that, our love survives (no matter what)."

Jane Russell Freeman wrote: "I so appreciate hearing Bishop Hollingsworth's non-reactive, calm proclamation of God's love with a very provocative radio interviewer. His responses were a model for us all."

Mimi Moore wrote: "I think that the hosts of this show, by the sound of their voices, slowly began to respect both the Bishop, and the message. They used better tones, more respectful language, and that shows they started to turn towards the message rather than turning away from it."

Torey Lightcap, rector of St. Thomas in Sioux City, Iowa, was struck by these sobering words of the bishop: "What I don't want is for my resentment and vengeance to take over my life."

And last (and perhaps least) I commented on the site:

"Bishop Hollingsworth was a remarkable presence here, which I'm grateful for..."

(A version of this appeared on Episcopal Cafe's The Lead)

What-a-ya doin New Year's...New Year's eve?

2011-12-31T14:40:00.001-05:00

While I remind myself that the Christmas season continues (7th day: there be swans swimming), I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year's!

Be safe, and God Bless!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-24T09:23:00.001-05:00

Merry Christmas, and thanks for reading!Kurt

Last Advent: Three years past

2011-12-19T14:35:00.000-05:00

(A sermon given at All Saints' Littleton on the Fourth Sunday of Advent, 12/18/2011)

Three years have past since I became rector at All Saints’.

3 years is an important time marker for an Episcopal rector, perhaps more so than for the parish, because 3 years means that we have completely journeyed through the lectionary together.

Other than the Sundays that I’ve been gone, I have now had the opportunity to preach on every Sunday reading offered by the Episcopal Church.

To put it another way: we’ve entered reruns…

This could mean a few things:

It could mean that you have already heard the best of what I have to offer on every Sunday reading.

(I’m hoping that this is not the case…)

It could mean that I can now begin every sermon by saying: “Remember what I said three years ago?” and you all will of course instantly recall everything I said.

(That’s probably not happening either…)

Perhaps all it means is that I now have another source to check in on. For each Sunday, I can now see what was it that was speaking to me, and perhaps to you, three years ago.

So I checked in on that first sermon I gave, one week before Christmas.

The quick recap is that I made this bold claim:

“I believe that we have found favor with God by our coming together.”

Three years have past, and I still believe this today: we have found favor with God.

Be clear and forwarned: finding favor with God may not bring us exactly what we bargained for. Things are certain to not be exactly like we dreamed.

Remember that Mary…the one told that she had found favor with God...was an unwed, pregnant teenager. She wss among the most vulnerable in her society. By the laws of her culture, she could be publicly shamed, exiled, or killed. At the very least, she was one that people were whispering about, and not in a friendly way.

Despite all of this, Mary said yes to God.

In doing so, she embraced God’s vision for the world. She gave up the way she had envisioned her life, and opened herself up to something greater than herself.

It is the most powerful of Advent messages.

So: what sort of favor now lies before us?

Well, it is my believe that it is now time to move from being one of the best kept secrets of Littleton, to embracing a dramatic period of growth. I believe it is time to adjust our focus towards taking the radical hospitality that we offer here outside of these walls, while at the same time, actively inviting those outside of our membership to Come and See what we are all about.

The power and beauty of what we offer is not that we all think the same and have all of the answers. We are, instead, a place that honestly wrestles with the complexities of human life in the midst of claiming relationship to a loving God who is still in the process of transforming the world.

We offer a model for the world: one not based on complete agreement, but instead, a loving respect for all life.

I believe the North Country desperately needs a church like All Saints’.

We will be asked to stretch in ways that we never have before: graciously embracing new ideas and possibilities as we share the transforming power that God has brought forth in our community.

It is this type of growth that Advent has been preparing us for...

Thanks be to God.

"I loved you fellows, one and all": a goodbye to Harry Morgan

2011-12-07T17:00:00.001-05:00

Harry Morgan died today. Stories on his life can be found here and here.

I did not know him, and hesitate to devote too much of a remembrance on a character he played.

Then again, his Colonel Potter changed the dynamics of arguably the most important show on television ever. Colonel Potter brought the historic perspective of a seasoned career military man, and yet was a character who valued humanity more than anything. He recoiled at the horrors of war even as he honored the intent of those who served, and also gave the show the example of a different type of authority: one with integrity. While the writing was good, the delivery was special and always believable.

In relation to the other characters, Colonel Potter embodied the best of what a father could be: wise and insightful, open and honest, and never to old to learn something new.

Perhaps his best known moment: the toast to old friends, while supported by his MASH family.

Here's to you, boys.

To Ryan, who died in W.W.I, the war to end all wars.

To Gianelli, who died in the war after that.

To Stein, the joker of the crowd.

And to Gresky, my best friend who just passed away in Tokyo.

You were the friends of my youth. My comrades through thick and thin and everything in between.

I drink to your memories.

I loved you fellows, one and all.

(props to Megan McKay for the transcript)

Does leaving as Priest require "Unfriending"???

2011-12-01T12:43:00.001-05:00

Episcopal Cafe continued a conversation started on Twitter including The Rev. Dan Webster at Church Social Media Blog. The entire Tweetchat is here. On his blog, Webster wrote:

Last week’s chat focused on professional and personal boundaries in social media. I mentioned how when I left a congregation as vicar, I would "unfriend" parishioners on my Facebook page. “When you leave, you leave,” I tweeted.

Webster recommends a helpful guideline put forth by The Episcopal Diocese of New York, which contained many fine suggestions.

But is the severing of all relations (including Facebook friend status) the way to go?

A countering response was made by Paul Steinbrueck is co-founder and CEO of OurChurch.com on his blog:

I believe our difference of opinion about what to do when a minister leaves a church stems from different understandings concerning the relationship between ministers and laypersons.

Rev. Webster seems to view his role as priest as being purely professional. He’s not there to be anyone’s friend, but rather to perform services for them. In that context, when the professional relationship is over, the relationship is over.

My view of minister/layperson relationships comes from observing the way Jesus related to his disciples. Jesus did not separate himself from disciples. Not only did he teach them, but he also lived with them, ate with them and did everything else with them. This was not merely a professional relationship. He loved them and they loved him.

Steinbrueck is careful to say that the relationship does indeed change:

I do think that when a minister leaves a congregation, the relationship with people in the congregation will change. He or she also needs to be careful not to undermine the leadership of the new minister. But a mass unfriending on Facebook?

Clearly I agree more with Steinbrueck here. I think that some connection in today's digital world is normal. Relationships continue beyond the end of the time as priest of a particular community, and Facebook is an obvious way to continue.

What HAS to be clear that there is a change in the relationship.

When I left Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland (granted, as Canon of Congregational Life), this was what I said in my final sermon:

Tomorrow will come: and I will no longer be your priest.

I have been honored and blessed to have as my vocation the sharing of all of your hopes, dreams, and fears. I have Celebrated the Eucharist, proclaimed the Gospel, preached sermons, baptized new members, prepared and presented Confirmants, presided at marriages and unions, and have mourned at funerals with so many of you. Those are the big celebration moments. What has been even more sacred is the laughing and crying we have done together. I have spent the last six and a half years in some combination of talking and listening with all of you, and there is nothing I would trade for these moments.

This is the role of Priest. I have been honored by your sacred trust, in the willingness to enter into the relationship that is priest and congregation member. It’s a strange, complex, multi-faceted, and uncertain relationship: started by some life transition, developed in unexpected moments, nurtured by gentleness with each other, damaged by assumptions and unattainable expectations; and marked by grace and the opportunity for unexpected new life.

It is a fragile yet surprisingly resilient relationship that mirrors our very humanity.

And, like our very lives, the time passes. During our Healthcare forum series, Jeffery Spiess offered us the inspired title, “Dying is not an option.” This is true of the relationship of Priest and the Gathered Community: at some point, it always ends, sometimes by members of the congregation moving away, sometimes by a priest moving on, sometimes by retirement, sometimes even by death. Priest is a relationship that always transforms into sometime else.

I will no longer be your Priest tomorrow. That’s what we’re saying goodbye to today.

(This sermon still lives as a podcast on Trinity Cathedral's website)

What are your thoughts?

Black Friday Advent

2011-11-29T11:34:00.001-05:00

Three moments have affected my outlook on this Advent season.

They all happened in the last week and a half, and they all have to do with shopping...

Darlene and I were returning from Portsmouth, NH the Saturday before Thanksgiving. We had a fun day there, including taking JJ to the ocean shore. While there, I collected rocks for or Stewardship Gathering service: choosing individual stones that would later be chosen by members of the parish to represent themselves during the service. I was feeling pretty good.

As we drove up Route 93, it occurred to me that the New York bishop election, where my friend and mentor Tracey Lind was on the slate, was likely concluded. I needed internet ASAP. So we stopped at a reliable spot to enable my wi-fi iPad: the Starbucks at the Tilton NH outlet mall. I will admit that I love Starbucks coffee, and stopping here is a RARE treat since it is the CLOSEST Starbucks to our home in Littleton NH.
(68 miles!!!)

Upon reaching the outlet mall, we were greeted by these words:

“Black Friday begins: Thursday at 10PM"

There were Christmas lights EVERYWHERE, and worse still, Christmas music.

I connected to the internet only to be further disappointed to learn that Tracey had not been elected. Feeling really defeated, we left and continued home.

All the way I was in a fowl mood, and not just concerning the election disappointment (I thought Tracey would have been a PHENOMENAL Bishop of New York). I felt angry for all of the people who would have to leave their families on Thanksgiving to work ridiculous hours with frantic people. I felt sad to those who would get sucked into the “have-to-have” mentality of the super sale. And I was, of course, personally annoyed to be hearing Christmas carols not just in place of Advent, but even before Thanksgiving,

Later, when I started working on the sermon for the first Sunday in Advent, I was reminded of my feelings, and thought of the movement called “Advent Conspiracy”. It calls for a change in the way we approach this time of year.

Americans enter this season of self-created stress, spending 450 billion dollars every year on holiday shopping. Often people buy what they cannot afford, and give things to people that they simply don’t need.

Advent Conspiracy suggests that, in many cases, we would be better off buying less and giving something more valuable: our very selves.

The time we freely give to each other...within a shared conversation, a common meal, working together, or gathering for something fun...is often so much more meaningful than any gift we can buy. It reflects the relational gift Jesus gave of himself.

The second event was the arrival of my family. My parents, sister and her boyfriend all arrived Tuesday night. We had a great Thanksgiving together. My sister and her boyfriend had to return Friday, but Mom, Dad, Darlene and I all went to Vermont Friday on what I like to call the “cholesterol tour”: Cabot's Creamery, and Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream Factory.

We ended up Montpellier, had a fun lunch together, and walked around the town. The town had a celebration going: they called it “Flannel Friday”. They celebrated living in Northern New England, they discounted their goods, and encouraged people to buy locally from the small stores that make up the town. It was great to see the local businesses doing so well. It was a reminder to me that, when it comes to the gifts that I will buy this season, to try and purchase from our local stores, our neighbors, whenever possible.

I was feeling pretty good about myself for shunning the Black Friday mega-sales, until the third moment happened...

I was making my final preparations for Sunday’s sermon when I ran across a blog post by Diana Butler Bass on Black Friday.

(Most) in lines at the discount stores are either poor, working class, or marginally middle class. These are the very people who attend church regularly, express higher levels of belief in God, and are more likely to give a higher percentage of their income to those in need. Indeed, nearly every survey in religion shows that the poorer the American, the more likely they are to be both faithful and generous.

By contrast, the rich—the people who aren’t in lines on Black Friday—are less likely to be religious, more likely to find meaning in materialism, and give a lower percentage of their income to help those in need. According to a recent New York Times story, the wealthy will spend most of their holiday cash at stores like Nordstrom, Saks, and Tiffany where there will be few sales and no door-buster specials.

We tend to think only of big-screen tvs and high-end electronics concerning Black Friday: but it might not reflect the truth.

A reporter interviewed two women at a mall, who had arrived early for the sales. He asked, “What are you going to buy?” The woman, clearly not a well-off person, responded: “Shoes.” He said, “Shoes? You’re not supposed to be buying shoes!” She said, “But I need shoes.” He pressed the issue, “Are you buying anything else?” “No,” she replied. “I just need new shoes.” Her companion was buying jeans. The reporter didn’t know what to say. How many people on Black Friday are like these two women?

Of course, there are plenty buying electronics and other things they don’t literally have to have. But Butler Bass rightly points our that people who are suffering under the weight of economic inequality would like to have nice toys for their children and decent electronics...things most Americans have...and the only time of the year they can afford such things is during the super-sales pushed on us by mega-business on Black Friday. Diana rightly suggests that the problem isn’t those who stand in line for Black Friday super-sales.

The problem is that America is mired in deep inequalities, that the middle class is dying, and that many millions can’t afford to buy nice things for their families without waiting in long lines on Thanksgiving night.

The three moments help me remember how Advent works...

Advent is the time of reflective preparation:

to consider everything anew, and from multiple angles

---To see more than what is first seen

---To think more deeply than the first thoughts

---To act intentionally and with purpose

Advent is the darkness before dawn...

The possibility of what is to come...

Advent is an invitation to consider what God REALLY wants for us and for the world,

and the real gifts we have to give for making that vision come true.

Blessings for you this Advent

Kurt

UPDATE: Glee episode "The First Time"

2011-11-21T13:49:00.001-05:00

Finally saw the episode. I think it offers a great deal to talk about, and I am very pleased with it as a whole.

Like most Glee episodes, it is honest look at a topic (sex) that says a great deal about its subject without saying "this is what you must believe".

I think that getting the most out of this episode requires knowing these characters. Yes, some things would have been apparent to those seeing the show for the first time, but the decisions made by these characters do not happen in the vacuum of this hour of television. Their histories lead them to these moments, making the decisions made more authentic.

I'm going take some time to reflect before I write in detail.

Meanwhile, Happy Thanksgiving to all!

My thoughts on the Glee "sex" episode? Afraid I can't comment...

2011-11-15T11:39:00.001-05:00

A number of people have asked for my opinion on the most recent episode of Glee. Two of the teen couples, as the episode's title alludes, had sex for "The First Time". There has been heated debate over what has transpired, with the Parents Television Council up in arms over the episode, counterarguments that the conservative group is signaling out Glee because one of the couples are the same sex, and a passionate defense by creator Ryan Murphy.

I am honored that people want to know my response to the show, and the whole "religion and popular culture" thing, and my earlier Glee posts (Grilled Cheesus & Glee Fest) certainly calls for a post on the subject.

And I will be happy to do so: after I've seen it.

I had a vestry meeting last Tuesday night, and a new episode of Glee, while certainly considered a priority, does not trump the church job! We're a non DVR household, so when I miss an episode I go to the show's official website, where they graciously have the five most recent shows online.

Unfortunately, FOX now has a new policy for non-Dish Network members: you have to wait eight days to see a newly broadcast episode.

I can understand a waiting period to watch the newest shows: after all, they want you to watch their network broadcast. But I have to wonder "what were they thinking" with an eight day waiting period??? There's NO WAY to get back on track unless they take a week off!

So guess what I WON'T be watching tonight!

SIGH! Well, thanks for listening to my rant, and I'll check out "The First Time" (for the first time) tomorrow.

Celebrating All Saints' at All Saints'

2011-11-07T13:41:00.002-05:00

(A sermon preached on All Saints' Sunday 2011 at All Saints' Littleton, NH)

Welcome again to our All Saints’ Day celebration! All Saints’ at All Saints'!: gotta love that!

What better way to celebrate than with a baptism this morning at 10AM: where we’ll welcome Madilyn, the newest member to our community.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading to prepare for this All Saints’ morning. Perhaps too much... I came across a blog written by an Episcopal priest named Tim Schenck. He wrote:

"Lost amid the post-Halloween sugar crash and the euphoria of All Saints’ Day, is the ancient Feast of All Souls Day. All Souls is like the forgotten and ignored middle child of the All Hallows Eve — All Saints’ — All Souls triumvirate. And that’s a shame.

We have so broadened the definition of a saint to include not just the martyrs and theologians of the early church, not just those who have demonstrated heroic faith in more contemporary times, but Uncle Harry. Uncle Harry may have been a swell guy — despite his unbearable political commentary at Thanksgiving dinner every year — but was he truly a saint?"

Schenck then says that "The modern All Saints’ Sunday celebration holds the potential to dilute the impact of the great saintly heroes of the faith while subsequently elevating our own deceased loved ones to heights that would likely make them roll in their graves."

I quickly reposted his blog post to my Twitter feed, for it made me think a great deal about All Saints'/All Souls', but the more I thought about it, the more I was troubled. It’s not just that we’ve transferred everything to an "All Saints' Sunday". It’s that I’ve always had a big picture view of “saints”. Sure, there are some the church officially recognizes, and there are some the church should recognize. And there is of course those in particular communities who we just know are saints: no one here is going to argue differently with Bishop Robinson’s opinion that Carl Schaller is a saint of God (can I get an Amen to that???) But I personally have come to recognize the saintlike qualities of particular people in my life, especially in remembering those who have died. By seeing them as saints, am I diminishing the point of All Saints’?

A distinction between All Saints and All Souls is rather complicated. People have always celebrated the remembering of those who have died with everything from the sharing of stories to saying prayers to and for them.

Some individuals recognized universally by the early church became known as Saints. However, there were also individuals who, because of their relationship to particular communities, became known as saints as well. Individual communities came up with their own customs for remembrance.

Fair to say, there were LOTS of saints with celebrations in individual communities. To cover the remembrances of these many saints, the church instituted a feast day for all of the saints in about the year 609.

In 998, the abbey of Cluny set apart a special day for the remembrance of the dead: November 2nd. There is disputed memory as to the reason why. Most likely, the abbey wanted a day to remember everyone from their community, not just “the saints”. But what came about is this legend, written by Peter Damiani, about 100 years later.

A pilgrim returning from the Holy Land was cast by a storm on a desolate island. A hermit living there told him that amid the rocks was a chasm communicating with purgatory, from which perpetually rose the groans of tortured souls. The hermit also claimed he had heard the demons complaining of the efficacy of the prayers of the faithful, and especially the monks of Cluny, in rescuing their victims. Upon returning home, the pilgrim hastened to inform the abbot of Cluny, who then set 2 November as a day of intercession on the part of his community for all the souls in Purgatory. (Peter Damiani in his Life of St Odilo)

(The history of All Saints'/All Souls' comes from Wikipedia)

The practice of using November 2nd as a remembrance day spread, and was accepted by Rome in the 14th century as “All Souls Day”. Further more, all of November came to be associated with the prayers of the departed.

Unfortunately, the Western Church came to abuse this practice. In tradition with the legend of praying souls out of Purgatory, people were encouraged to offer money to help the process of getting loved ones to heaven, sometimes way more than they could afford.

This is, of course, one of the abuses that led to the Reformation.

While there have been reforms and revivals over the years, the general summary is that Catholics tend to celebrate “the saints” as those specially recognized by the church, and Protestants have infused All Souls Day into All Saints Day, and tend to see all Christians as saints, regardless of their life’s actions.

In the great tradition of the Episcopal Church, we try and find the middle ground. Currently, our calendar calls November 2nd both All Souls Day and the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed, although the vast majority of churches combine its celebration with All Saints.

Rightly, we celebrate the saints recognized by the church for leading extraordinary lives of example and service: an ever expanding list from the early days of Jesus to now.

But what about Uncle Harry? Do we need to differentiate between those who are remembered for accomplishing great things through the spirit of God, and the rest of us?

I’m not so sure we need to go about trying to measure one’s saintly qualities. After all, we’re likely to have some serious difference of opinion. One person’s saint is another person’s...well, not saint. Uncle Harry may not have left a saintly impression on us, but we are so unaware of how many intersections one’s life has had on others. We may have missed moments that profoundly touched or changed others lives for the better. After all, in our attempts to discern saintliness, we often look for the wrong things.

Retired priest Ken Kesselus tells the story of a boy who went to a scouting contest for homemade racing cars:

It was one of those events where the contestants are supposed to do their own work but most of the fathers help too much. At one such event, a youngster with no dad showed up with a racer he had obviously made with his own unskilled hands. The contest pitted boys in pairs, one against another with the winner advancing to the next round in a series of eliminations. Somehow this one kid’s funny-looking car won again and again, until, defying all odds, he was in the finals against another scout with a slick-looking, well-made racer.

Before the championship race, the boy asked the director to wait a moment so he could pray. The crowd, now enthralled by the unlikely story unfolding before them, stood in silence, loving the boy and secretly praying with him that he might win; he seemed so deserving.

After the boy won the race and was given a trophy, the director said, “Well, I guess it is a good thing you prayed, so you could win.”

“Oh, no!” the boy protested, horrified to have been misunderstood. “I didn’t pray to win. That would have been wrong. The other scout had as much right to win as I did. I couldn’t pray that God would make him lose. I just prayed that God would help me keep from crying if I lost.”

Kesselus concludes that this is the real importance: “It is understanding that we can emulate the saints, that we can become saints too, that we can become faithful disciples of Christ, following the saints who show us the way....Isn’t this why we remember the saints, some of whom are publicly known and recognized in the light of history, and others, like the Boy Scout, whom we come across in the obscurity of ordinary struggles?”

And what can be more saintly than reflecting the love of Jesus: the loving of God with all our hearts and minds and strength, and our neighbors as our self?

So what should we tell little Madilyn, who we baptize here this morning, about the saints?

We’ll tell about the saints who have inspired the world with words and actions: bright stars of God’s vision.

We’ll also lift up those around her who so clearly illuminate the love of Jesus in word and deed.

But perhaps the most important thing that we can teach her is that everyone has the potential to love in this way: and that in her loving of God, neighbors and self, she may be the saintly inspiration of another.

Thanks be to God.

A quiet month for the blog

2011-10-31T09:41:00.001-04:00

First off, a Happy Halloween to anyone reading!

I've found myself really busy this past month, and found little time to blog in the midst of a Fall programing at church and a week at CREDO.

Also, most of my sermons the last month have been the "stand and deliver" type: with only a few notes instead of a text. This of course means I don't have an instant almost completed blog post to then use!

I'll try to get with it in November.

Kurt

Grace to you, and Peace

2011-10-17T22:23:00.000-04:00

(A sermon preached on October 16th, 2011 at All Saints' Littleton)

This morning's gospel story (Matthew 22:15:22) features a brilliant attack on Jesus: is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar? It is another publicly unanswerable question. If Jesus says "yes", he will enrage the crowds who want to hear movement towards an end to Roman rule. If he says "no", well, you can imagine that the Romans will have a problem with that, and Jesus is certain to be branded a rebel, and likely will be arrested. Jesus, wise to what they are doing, says "show me the coin used for the tax", leading to the great words of returning to the emperor's what is the emperor's, and to God what is God's. A fantastic reading all around.

It is, however, a rather dicey way to begin a stewardship season...

I certainly want to avoid the idea that the giving of Time, Talent, and Treasure to All Saints is like paying taxes to Caesar...

My hunch is that most stewardship sermons (likely, this time of year) will focus on the “giving to God what is God’s”part, and will implicitly or explicitly say that the way you do this is by giving more money to the church.

The finance committee will be pleased to know that I don’t object to people giving more money to the church, but I do think that there is a deeper message here.

I want to begin, however, not with the gospel text, but with Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, and specifically the opening. Paul’s first words to the church there are “Grace to you and peace.”

There is more to this opening than we in the 21st century now hear. Paul is playing on a political slogan that would have been as familiar to his audience as “Yes we can!” or “Drill, baby drill” is to our ears today.

The Romans used the slogan “peace and security” over and over again. It is what the Romans promised those who lived under them: enforced by their power and dominance. Our might, (and your doing what we think is right), will protect you from the dangers of the world.

Paul intentionally contrasts the Roman household slogan of “peace and security” with his Christian counter-slogan: “grace and peace”. He rightly casts the vision of Jesus: the desire that grace and peace should be longed for and lived out in life, not a “security” that insulates people from fears and the bad things encountered.

Isn’t it true that we too often today seek security more than anything? Money is the obvious one: our first line of defense against problems and insecurities. But there are many things we do to secure ourselves from life’s difficulties. Charles LaFond, Canon for Congregational Life, observes that our tendency as Americans is to self-anesthetize our fears with overwork, materialism, and other drugs of choice with which we dull our pain rather than face it. Grace, in contrast, calls on God’s and each other’s presence to a communal life of prayer, support, and service. With God and the community, grace helps us face life’s fears together, and healing is possible.

This brings us back to the Gospel’s message this morning: to “give to God what is God’s”. In this community, we do this by giving our time, talent, and treasure. The gift we give is actually to God, given through All Saints’, and we give it here because we believe that this community reflects the grace of God. We believe that through liturgy and prayer we reconnect with God and refresh the soul. In our communal questioning and exploration of life, we develop as human beings and Christians. By our fun events, our laughter and our play, we see and experience the joy that is promised. By our listening presence and concern, we care for each other. And by our service to our greater community, from the North Country to the world, we sooth the wounds caused by hurt and neglect, as we work to make God’s vision for the world a reality.

All Saints’ is a place where the message of the Gospel shines brightly: living out the call to return everything to God...loving God with everything that we are, and loving our neighbor as ourselves. Our pledge to this community reflects our understanding that everything we are and have comes from God.

Grace to you, and peace.

Amen.

(Much of this sermon comes from notes provided to NH Diocesan clergy by The Rev. Canon Charles LaFond for stewardship preaching on the lectionary)

"Eviction from our sandbox"

2011-10-06T14:37:00.002-04:00

The Revs. Laurie Brock and Mary Koppel have a fantastic blog that I love reading. I am often challenged (in a good way) when I go to read their blog "Dirty Sexy Ministry".

Their recent post Not in My Sandbox is an important reminder that "loving your neighbor" does not mean allowing people to do anything to you.

The full commandment is love God, love your neighbor, and love yourself. Life is about balancing that trifecta. We don't love our neighbor by constantly subjecting ourselves to our neighbor's hurtful behavior towards us. We are simply engaged in the emotional equivalent of constantly poking ourselves in the eye when we do that.

Love is about care and nurture. We too often limit love to being some kind of friendship, like loving our neighbor means we have to invite our neighbor, the one who repeatedly has knocked us down the stairs, to dinner, even if we're afraid during the entire meal that s/he's going to throw Brussel sprouts at us and call us names. That isn't loving ourselves, and it's not really loving our neighbor.

They go on to list some of the people who might need an "eviction" from our lives (with description you should read on their blog) including:

People who constantly give you an inventory of your flaws and shortcomings, while never reflecting on their own.

People who pursue a romantic relationship with you while "in some way romantically committed to someone else." (Kurt's paraphrasing)

Those whose behavior is abusive.

Those who engage in character assassination.

Just as important, they mention who is NOT on the evection list:

Those who vote differently from us; those who disagree with us or have another viewpoint; those who are a different ethnicity, religion, race, or sexual orientation; even those who worship differently from us.

Please consider taking the time to read their whole post.

Episcopal School of Dallas found grossly negligent for millions

2011-09-23T20:01:00.000-04:00

(This appeared first on Episcopal Cafe)

The Episcopal School of Dallas is liable for $9 million for how it dealt with the sexual abuse of a 16-year-old female student by a 34-year-old male teacher.

The jury found that the school was not liable for failing to prevent the relationship, but was grossly negligent in how it handled the incident when the relationship was discovered.

Claire St. Amant wrote an in depth article for D Magazine of the scandal and how the private Episcopal School handled things.

The article is disturbing not only due to the details of the abuse, but by the school's apparent self-intrest in their own reputation and comfort.

The overall sense of the article is that the parents were more than willing to work with the school going forward, even though the school erred in the beginning by not telling the parents immediately upon learning the extent of the abuse.

The school then worked with the family until the rumors started flowing around the school and the girl started processing aloud what had happened.

(the article uses the name "Emily" for the former student)

No longer suffering in silence, Emily was disrupting the entire campus. Feeling Emily was a long way from closure, Mayo met with Royall and Swann, and, without input from Emily, her parents, or her therapist, the trio of administrators decided Emily had to go.

In an email that would become central to the civil case against ESD, Mayo wrote to Royall: “I don’t want the girl haunting the halls with her sad story for the rest of the week.”

The administrators then forced the family to withdraw her from the school.

The unwillingness of the school to deal with the messiness of the aftermath from the inappropriate and criminal relationship on the part of one of its faculty is a sad and shocking reality. The desire to withhold or gloss over truth to keep people from "disruption" is counter to the Gospel and the ethics of The Episcopal Church (although clearly the church has chosen a similar route at various times in its history).

The administrators of The Episcopal School of Dallas missed their responsibility to wade into the ugliness of broken trust and emerge with real healing. They could have worked with the victim and her family in facing the challenging issues concerning balancing her privacy and the need for the school community to have some understanding of the truth. By choosing the "easier" path of removing the girl from the school, the administrators failed their charges.

And it will cost them more than just the $9 million...

A sermon on September 11th, 2011

2011-09-14T15:39:00.000-04:00

I found Sunday’s church service to be a profoundly spiritual event. We had a Service of Remembrance within our Eucharist service.

The service started with words written by Bishop Shannon Johnston, of Virginia:

“We remember all whose lives were changed ten years ago on September 11, bless our remembrance and bless our prayers as we come before you.”

Bishop Shannon’s prayers included those who found themselves in the midst of the attacks: the victims, those who responded directly in the moment, and those who offered their support and prayers. They also included prayers “for innocent people who were treated with hatred or suspicion because of their religion or nationality,” as well as “for this citizenry of many nationalities, races and religions.”

Our collect prayer came from Bishop Griswold:

God the compassionate one, whose loving care extends to all of the world, we remember this day your children of many nations and many faiths whose lives were cut short by the fierce flames of anger and hatred. Console those who continue to suffer and grieve, and give them comfort and hope as they look to the future. Out of what we have endured, give us the grace to examine our relationships with those who perceive us as the enemy, and show our leaders the way to use our power to serve the good of all for the healing of the nations.

(Note: both of these were made available by Church Publishing)

We then sang In Christ there is no East or West, read the Gospel for the day, and then I began my sermon. I spoke without a text...only a few notes. This is my best at recalling the sermon:

************************

In Christ there is no East or West is my favorite hymn. I love its vision: “One great fellowship of love throughout the whole wide earth.”

I have a “phantom memory” of this hymn, by which I mean that I have a remembrance concerning this hymn that actually did not happen.

The powerful movie Places in the Heart, set in 1935 Texas, begins with the small town sheriff responding to gunshots. Wiley, a young African American boy, has been drinking and firing off a gun. The sheriff calls Wiley by name, who then tosses the bottle in the air and shoots at it a few times till the gun misfires. Playfully, Wiley points the gun at the sheriff and pulls the trigger, and is stunned when the gun goes off.

The sheriff dies, and the boy is lynched.

The movie tells the story of the sheriff’s wife Edna as she fights to hold on to her farm, helped by a African American drifter named Moze, and a discarded blind war hero named Will.

The movie is full of complicated brokenness as well as heartwarming hope in humanity. They succeed in making it though the season, but Moze is driven to leave after a confrontation with town-members in Klan garb. Edna tells him that their success was his accomplishment, and that he should never forget this.

The final scene was church on Sunday morning: and communion is passed throughout the congregation as a hymn is sung.

(This is my phantom memory: I remember In Christ there is no East or West. In reality, the hymn was In the Garden. They SHOULD have used East or West!)

The shock of this scene, however, is who is present: somehow EVERYONE is there together in the passing of communion: protagonists and antagonists, those present and absent (including Moze), and even the dead. The movie ends with Wiley passing communion to Sheriff Royce, the man he shot and killed, with the words “Peace of God.”

Somehow, all are forgiven.

In looking at the Gospel today (Matthew 18:21-35), I can’t say I’m happy to see a complicated passage on forgiveness. Because, if I’m honest with myself, there are plenty of people concerning 9-11...from those who planned and executed the attacks, to those who responded with self-serving violence...who I simply don’t want to forgive.

Bishop Desmond Tutu says that “Forgiveness is an absolute necessity for continued human existence. Without forgiveness, there's no future.”

So whether I want to or not, I have to take forgiveness seriously...

The Gospel passage starts with Peter saying “Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?”

Those of you may remember a few weeks ago when I pointed out the Gospel writer’s use of the word “church”. There was no “church” during Jesus’ ministry, but after his life, his followers had to figure out how they would live in community together. The Gospel writer is addressing the way church of his time should treat each other.

There are a number of possibilities. What is most likely is that, in the living out of Jesus’ general teaching to forgive others as necessary, that the church used “seven times” as an example. (Perhaps Jesus had said this in a conversation about forgiveness.) Some took this literally, keeping tabs on the number of times someone messed up and required forgiveness. The spirit of forgiving as needed to restore relationship was being lost. Matthew’s dialogue has Jesus say “seventy-seven times” to illustrate the understanding, and not as the new literal number.

What follows, however, is a complicated story from Jesus about a king and his slaves.

There are those in the church who see this as a simple allegorical story: God is the king, we are the slaves. God’s tenedncy is to forgive, so long as we forgive others the same way. If we don’t forgive others, God won’t forgive us.

The biggest problem I have with this understanding is that it doesn’t fit the premise. The story does not in any way illustrate forgiving multiple times. So perhaps there is another way to understand it.

The story begins with a king settling accounts with his slaves. One owes him ten thousand talents, and the king is going to have him sold with his family and possessions. The slave pleads “Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.”

The intent may be honest, but it’s not going to happen. The sum has spiraled too out of control. There is no way for the slave to ever truly “pay what he’s owes.”

The king, however, has pity. Having the power to do so, he forgives the debt entirely.

This slave turns around and encounters someone else who owes him money: a hundred denarii, an attainable amount. Despite the same words of pleading, he has him thrown in prison.

We do not know why this first slave, forgiven by the king, fails to do the same for his fellow slave. Maybe it is his understanding of “the real world”: a king with abundance has the luxury to forgive, but my survival depends on doing what I need to do...seizing by the throat and payment before someone can be released. He is either unwilling or unable to see himself in the position of having the power to forgive. It is tragic that the first slave cannot break free of his understandings.

In comes the forgotten characters: fellow slaves, witnessing this event, demand action. It is worth noting that their distress leads to the first slave being condemned, NOT necessarily to the second slave being released. There is the subtle reality that the bystanders are more interested is seeing someone get punished rather than wrong righted. For all we know, the second slave remain in prison: after all, he still owes a debt...

Finally, we return to the king, who originally chose to forgave. Now, upon hearing that the person he forgave did not live up to expectations, he acts in anger and hands over a man to be tortured.

I don’t think this represents God. Instead, the king illustrates how easy it is for one in the position of power (in this case, the ability to forgive) to feel justified in resorting to violence instead of forgiveness.

I ask you: who in this story is not poisoned? Everyone is damaged in the end. All fail to live up to the vision of God and the way things could be.

I believe that Jesus, among other things, was an extraordinary storyteller. I think he saw the complexities of human beings and their interactions with one another, and weaved a powerful narrative to illustrate that the kingdom of heaven (which refers to how we are to live our lives) is ultimately full of people who struggle to forgive.

Coming back to today’s anniversary, I am reminded that, in the grand scheme of things, 10 years is not that much time. We still have time to determine what kind of people we will ultimately be post September 11th, 2001.

It occurred to me that it has been almost 100 years since the event that came to be known as “The war to end all wars”. I have no wish to judge our actions from that time, except to observe that it now seems clear that you can’t end war thorough war.

I feel strongly that the same is true about a war on terror. It doesn’t work either...which leads us back to forgiveness.

What if we, as Deacon Paul observed the other week, reacted not with bullets, but with food, clothing, shelter, and clean water? What if we sought to make our legacy of September 11th be a new age of compassion and solidarity: that out of the ashes of destruction comes not an age dominated by control and fear, but one of new life?

What could we do together if we found the way to forgive?

Amen.

"Spiritual but not religious"

2011-09-02T13:39:00.000-04:00

(This was originally posted in The Lead on Episcopal Cafe)

UCC pastor Lillian Daniel writes on the regular encounters with the person who, upon hearing she's a minister, declares him/herself to be "spiritual but not religious."

Such a person will always share this as if it is some kind of daring insight, unique to him, bold in its rebellion against the religious status quo. Next thing you know, he's telling me that he finds God in the sunsets...

Like people who go to church don't see God in the sunset! Like we are these monastic little hermits who never leave the church building. How lucky we are to have these geniuses inform us that God is in nature.

Harsh? Probably. Funny and accurate? Oh yes: I can't tell you how many times this has happened to me. Rev. Daniel goes on to make her point:

Being privately spiritual but not religious just doesn't interest me. There is nothing challenging about having deep thoughts all by oneself. What is interesting is doing this work in community, where other people might call you on stuff, or heaven forbid, disagree with you. Where life with God gets rich and provocative is when you dig deeply into a tradition that you did not invent all for yourself.

She has a point, but I would add a caveat: eight times out of ten, what the person telling me that they are spiritual but not religious is really trying to do is justify to me (clergy) why they don't go to church. And behind that reason, usually, is either wounded (or turned off) personal experience, or world fed assumptions about religion.

In truth, they owe me no explanation: as Rev. Daniel said, the spiritual not religious viewpoint is "now comfortably in the norm for self-centered American culture."

However, there is opportunity here. Engaging in the conversation is a great place to be interrupted by God. By asking things like "Can you tell me more about your Spiritual life?" or "How does it impact your daily life choices?", I not only learn their language for God, but I actively help break the stereotype that clergy have (or think they have) all of the answers.

There is also the invitation to talk about the value of religious community.

After all, in the term "spirituality", most people are referring to their encounters with the holy and divine. By saying that they are "not religious", they are telling me that they are not part of an established way of understanding the meaning. I think this comes from an assumption that religion primarily defines rules for where one is to see God, what one is to believe, and how one is to live.

I think this understanding misses what religion is supposed to be about. Religion, at its base, is asking the "so what" questions that often comes from the spiritual encounter: what meaning does this have, what does this point to in terms of the world, how does it affect the way I live my life, and what does it say about my relationships to others.

Additionally, the word "religion" assumes community. Human beings grow and are challenged by the depth of their interactions with each other. Hearing the viewpoints of others (even if we don't come to agreement) keeps us from wrongly assuming that we have the complete picture, and holds us accountable both to further relationship with others and committed to personal growth. Within the context of a "religious way", we wrestle with not only the lives of other people living in today's world, but also with the recorded struggles of peoples past.

It is worth remembering that "the Church" often fails to remember that the "so what" questions are far from answered, and that our offering to the world is the opportunity to explore the fabric of life's meaning within the context of community (past, present & future).

And people might just discover the promise in being religious...

Not one, but three summer films worth debating

2011-08-29T15:54:00.003-04:00

Summer films are known for their blockbuster ambitions: usually sticking to the formula of big action, epic story, or romantic fun.

The only movie that I've seen this summer combines all of these (The final Harry Potter movie).

Rarer for summer movies are films that provoke controversy because of their subject matter.

Today, Episcopal Cafe highlighted one such movie: The Help. An article by Elizabeth Geitz looks at the movie that is swirling with controversy and asks, "Does The Help, help or hurt?"

It was a terrific book, I thought, for it revealed the South as I knew it and lived it.
And therein lies the controversy surrounding the work.
There is only one perspective portrayed in both the book and the movie, the perspective of white people. Black women are portrayed as one-dimensional, stereotypical ‘characters’ – not as real flesh and blood people with families, feelings, hopes, and dreams of their own.

Geitz continues:

The Association of Black Women Historians released a statement about The Help: “Despite efforts to market the film as a progressive story of triumph over racial injustice, The Help distorts, ignores, and trivializes the experience of black domestic workers. We are specifically concerned about the representations of black life and the lack of attention given to sexual harassment and civil rights activism.” I commend to you the rest of the statement made by Black women scholars who speak the truth of another perspective. It can be viewed at the website named below.
In an interview with NPR Stockett responded to the controversy surrounding her book: “I’m a Southerner — I never take satisfaction in touching a nerve,” she says. “I guess if I’m forced to find a good side, I’m glad that people are talking about an issue that hasn’t really been discussed all that much. I’m glad that people are talking about it from the black perspective and the white perspective.”

Turns out, it's not the only controversial summer movie. New York Times columnist A.O. Scott highlights three movies that have sparked debate. In addition to The Help, Scott cites The Tree of Life and The Future.

You'll have to read Scott's article (be careful for spoilers) to get the full story. Having not seen any of these movies yet, it is this observation that I pull from his story:

So it is cause for rejoicing when something comes along that raises hackles and polarizes opinions, stirring up passionate quarrels, both private and public, in which more seems to be at stake than who liked what. The ardent embrace or skeptical dismissal of certain films can feel less like a matter of opinion than of principle, and to talk about them is not so much to compare contrasting impressions as to engage opposing positions. Love it or hate it. You might be ambivalent or confused, but you can’t be neutral. Mixed feelings are strong feelings.

Oh yeah, I learned one other thing: I need to get to the movies!!!

Tell the Story

2011-08-21T16:29:00.005-04:00

(For my friend, Bryan)

Last week we heard the story of Joseph: from being sold into slavery by his brothers, to his rising in Egypt to considerable power. Ultimately, Joseph chooses to be reconciled to his brothers: realizing that even though they did evil to him, God sent him forward with great purpose.

The high note that last story ended on is quickly dashed by this morning’s opening line :

“Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.” (Exodus 1:8)

It may seem on the surface to only represent the passage of time, but it is so much more. Joseph and the former Pharaoh had became close. Joseph was a trusted and powerful person for Pharaoh, and the king respected him. There was unity between the Israelites and Egyptians, even in the midst of their differences. They lived for many years together in peaceful harmony: united for each others benefit.

But for some reason, the closeness ended. We don’t know why. Perhaps the peoples stopped working with one another, and stopped seeing benefits in each others differences. Ultimately, the stories of valuing each other were lost.

And so, a new Pharaoh looked upon the Israelites as a numerous and powerful people, and started to fear them. “...they will increase and, in the event of war, join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land.”

The new Pharaoh in this story is responsible for the change to hardship afflicted on the ancient Israelites. It is an all to familiar story of those with power getting fearful about losing it, and to preserve power they turn people against one another, creating discord where there is none. But it is worth remembering that peace and unity must be constantly worked at by everyone. The generations had the responsibility to not forget the relationship formed between Joseph and Pharaoh, Israelite and Egyptian.

There are two other moments in this story that contain both a bit of humor and an important message. The Egyptian midwives to the Hebrew women, despite not having much power in their society, are held up as heroes. They defy Pharaoh himself to keep from killing the Israelite boys. (The funny part: only a man who has everything done for him would believe their story that Hebrew women give birth before the midwives can reach them...) And then there is the very daughter of Pharaoh who takes Moses as her own child. The humor in the story is that Moses’ mother is ultimately paid to nurse her own child. Of more importance to the reader is that, for some reason, Pharaoh’s daughter comes to the Nile to bathe, instead of her wealthy palace where she could of easily had her bath drawn. Is she coming specifically to look to save a Hebrew child? Or perhaps she felt dirty from the policies of the palace, and wished to bathe outside it to be mentally as well as physically clean. Clearly she uses her power to defy Pharaoh in her own way. The story establishes from the start that, among the Egyptians, at least the women worked against Pharaoh and his ruthlessness.

I now want to remind you of my point in last week’s sermon.

I suggested the Joseph story counters the popular saying “when God closes a door, God opens a window.” Joseph recognized that it was his brothers that had done evil: God did not cause the evil act...closing the door on his former life. God does not cause bad things to happen.

God, however, may be the one who opens windows, by which I mean that is is often God who shows and sends us on a way forward. God sent Joseph forth into slavery, where he found both a new life and connection to the old. The promise of God is not that bad things won’t happen: what God promises is to be with us, even within the bad, and that it is never the end. Even in the midst of death and destruction, there is always new life.

One can see how our lesson from last week informs these stories: despite the dark times within Pharaoh’s command to kill, both the midwives and Pharaoh’s daughter find their own way to serve God.

But as it turns out, I personally needed a reminder of this...

In the summer of 2002, I came to Trinity Cathedral in Cleveland. They wanted me to be their Curate, but it was still (God willing) six months until my ordination, so I couldn’t be a Curate yet. They gave me the title of “Pastoral Associate”: my areas were to be youth and young adult ministries, coordinating pastoral care, and newcomers. One of my very first meetings with a newcomer was with a guy named Bryan Schwegler. He was younger than my 30 years (a bit rare for a church newcomer, for the most part), but I was amazed by the extent of his church experience and the depth in his search for a new church community. We sat and talked, and talked, and talked for a few hours in a coffee shop. Led by his enthusiasm (and perhaps my inexperience), I did two things you’re not supposed to do. First, it’s a bad idea to immediately put a newcomer into a position of responsibility. Second, you NEVER...EVER...place a newcomer in a position of working with youth. I did both: and it was one of the greatest calls I ever made. Bryan was a spectacular youth leader: greatly appreciated for his questioning and fun loving nature, and a wonderful mentor for the youth. He, along with his co-mentor Kim, journeyed with a group of Jr. High students as their mentor all the way to their High School graduations

I was blessed with a friendship that spanned my entire ministry at Trinity. He went to my ordinations, my installation as a Canon of the Cathedral, and was part of the farewell celebration to send Darlene and I off to New Hampshire. I in turn spent countless hours with him and Kim, led his confirmation class and was there at the celebration, and I also saw him become a member of Cathedral Council and worked with him there. Bryan was the first of what would become a core of young adult friends at Trinity that shared significant parts of our lives together.

Bryan died Thursday night after a sudden, unexpected brain aneurism. I am stunned from the loss of my friend. I am sick with sadness for Adam, his beloved, for Barb, his mother, and for the many family and friends who are heartbroken.

It is shocking when someone young dies suddenly. We are often compelled to as the unanswerable question: why. Was there some purpose in what has happened?

It’s a complicated subject.

I believe that there is no "purpose" in Bryan's death: in other words, God didn't do this for a reason...God didn't do this at all. I believe God’s actions in the aftermath of this difficult time are comfort and care of those who are hurting.

But there’s more to the question of purpose. You see, Bryan lived with his life with great purpose. He was engaging, generous, and kind. He loved and was loved by family and friends. We who know him might think his life was too short, but we can also honestly say that he fully lived the life he had.

And that leads us to this: as we are reminded that life is precious and fragile, we are called to live our lives with purpose.

The unexpected death of someone we care about is a reminder to live our lives with a real sense of urgency. It is a reminder that real purpose in life comes in the sacred moments we share with others. Perhaps a moment like this might call you into action on behalf of others, as the midwives and Pharaoh’s daughters were...but at the very least, it is a reminder to not wait to tell others what they mean to you.

“...a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.”

(Because no one continued to tell the stories.)

Don’t let this happen...

Tell and listen to your stories of one another.

In doing so, you honor their memory: and with God, you find a way forward.

Amen.

To the Dogs: Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman

2011-08-14T12:00:00.003-04:00

I preached on Joseph this morning, but when Jesus calls someone a dog, you have to, at the very least, provide a link. This was originally posted September 6th, 2009

A Slap in the Face: Jesus and the Syrophoenician Woman

(A sermon on Mark 7:24-30, preached at All Saints' Episcopal Church in Littleton, NH)

This morning’s gospel begins with Jesus going out to the region of Tyre. We are told that he enters a house and wants no one to know that he’s there. Apparently, Jesus is tired, and trying to get some rest. Of course, it’s hard to keep the news that he’s in town quiet, and it’s not long before a woman comes to Jesus, begging for help for her sick little daughter. She’s a Gentile: a Syrophoenician woman. Now comes the time of the passage where Jesus is to surprise everyone with his generosity of time and spirit.

Instead he says this: “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

That’s not the way I expected Jesus to respond to the woman in need. In fact, I don’t know how this sounds to you...but I think Jesus just called this woman a dog.

For the last 2000 years, many people have attempted to explain this passage’s presence and meaning in the Gospel of Mark.

Many have suggested that Jesus was testing the woman with his words. While I was growing up, this was the most prevalent understanding. I have seen some versions of the Bible include the words “in order to test her.” Well, I for one can’t imagine that this is true: and if it is, I personally think that’s even crueler than the words at face value.This woman’s child was in torment! Is this a time to test her, to see if she can give the right answer? Of course not.

Some have claimed that Jesus words are meant as a compliment: that in comparison to the children of Israel, Jesus was going beyond the accepted norm by saying that Gentiles were not really enemies, but sort of like the faithful family dog. I wouldn’t even know where to begin in listing all the problematic things with this interpretation, but I will clearly say that it’s an understanding I don’t personally accept.

Others have concluded that Jesus never really said these words. These others include the majority of the Fellows of the Jesus Seminar, whose work I greatly respect and often use. The Jesus Seminar concluded that the dialogue of this story was the storyteller’s: not Jesus’ actual words. They soundly point to the fact that the overwhelming majority of Jesus’ teachings suggest openness to pagans and gentiles:think about Jesus’ travels outside of Galilee, the story of the Good Samaritan, the encounter with the woman at the well, and so on. (The Five Gospels, Funk, Hoover & The Jesus Seminar p. 70 & p. 204)

There’s sound reasoning here, but what bothers me is this: why include the dogs comment, found in the Gospel of Matthew as well? Assume for a moment that this passage is a creation of the writer of the Gospel of Mark: putting words into Jesus’ mouth for a reason. What reason might that be? How does this account help make a persuasive argument that Jesus is Lord? The only apparent reason to have Jesus use these words is to suggest that Jesus understood his ministry to be within Judaism. Fine. Why then, include the woman’s retort and Jesus acceptance of it, granting her request? Any potential benefit to the story is now lost, and the results it that Jesus does not come off well in anyone’s eyes: the Gentile would be offended by his initial evasion, the Judean offended by his acquiescence to the woman. This story simply does not make Jesus look good to anyone, and seems unlikely to be made up for sake of furthering the new Christian community.

To me, there is a much more obvious explanation of this text, even if it’s a conclusion I don’t like. Jesus, my Lord, the one through whom I know the love of God...either due to his understanding of his ministry, or perhaps just because he was tired...attempts to evade this woman seeking his help, and for all intensive purposes calls her a dog.

My gut reaction is that I’d like to simply get rid of this passage, for it makes me uncomfortable. But upon reflection, I’m hesitant to dismiss it. This is one of the only times in our scriptures where we have a Jesus moment that does not speak well of him. Perhaps it is here because it was a story that refused to go away. Perhaps there were those who, in the midst of sharing the stories of Jesus said “But what about that encounter with the Syrophoenician woman?”

I once encountered a unique illustration of this story. Richard Swanson is a Biblical Storyteller and a professor at Augustana College in Sioux Falls, SD. He created a project called “Provoking the Gospel.” The students in his troupe are committed to the notion that biblical stories are dramatic, engaging, and provoking texts. They have been developing what they call “performative midrash,” which is a way of exploring texts through their embodiment, finding the tensions within the text. Their website says, “We do our work by poking the text and provoking it. We expect the text to poke us back, and to provoke us.”

I watched a video example of this technique. Two college students...a man and a woman...reading this passage in its entirety out loud, straight from the text, with the man speaking Jesus’ lines, and the woman taking on the unnamed Gentile. They read the text numerous times, and as they started to commit the passage to memory, they started to really interact with one another. Over and over the woman heard the man...Jesus...imply that he would not heal her suffering daughter...say that he would not throw the children’s food to the dogs. Finally, it sunk in: for one reason or another, she was not worthy of Jesus’ time.

He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

SMACK!!!

She slapped him across the face...and she exclaimed bitterly: “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

Somehow, the young man stayed in character. With his palm cooling his stinging cheek, he said to her, in a stunned voice: “For saying that, you may go---the demon has left your daughter.” And...still in shock and perhaps only now glimpsing how he had wounded her...he turned away and left the scene.

Provoking the Gospel, indeed....

Think about this. Doesn’t it make sense that Jesus, a faithful Jew, would have originally thought that his ministry was supposed to be with his own people? His people were under Rome’s thumb, and were being taken advantage of by their own religious leaders. So he focused on them, but they struggled to understand. Even his handpicked disciples seemed clueless to the simplest of his messages. Jesus desperately needs some rest, and he finally gets away to a place where he thinks his time will be his, but instead finds yet another person in need: a gentile woman. His patience at an end, he attempts to push her away with what is either an unfortunate choice of words, or a not so cryptic dismissal that she is not “one of his people.”

But he underestimated her...she pushes back.

Perhaps at that moment, Jesus remembered his own bold and prophetic words that we heard last week: “It is not what goes in, but what comes out of the mouth that defiles.” (Mark 7:14-23)

What I think this means is that our capacity to do wrong is part of our human nature:we do not become infected with sin by breaking customs, like the Pharisees were trying to suggest. The capacity for sin...thoughts, words and actions that isolate us from God and each other’s love...comes from within ourselves, and is part of being fully human.

We teach in the church that Jesus, while divine, is also fully human. Do we really believe that? Will we allow Jesus himself to be fully human? Will we allow Jesus a mistake along his path of faithfulness to God’s call?

If we are able to, I think we begin to see the power in having Jesus learn something new... something so powerful that it changed the scope of his ministry...a ministry that would from this moment on especially focus on the outsider and the person marginalized by the community.

I am grateful for a portrait of Jesus that shows growth in his character from his experience with others. It proves to me that his encounters with people were real.There was the opportunity for all, including Jesus, to be transformed by each other. It shows that Jesus’ ministry changed over time... that it grew and blossomed in part by the people he met along the way. It suggests that even Jesus had to discern his ministry, just as we are all called to do.

Perhaps it might feel strange or uncomfortable to suggest that Jesus wasn’t perfect, but it might be just what we need: for such an understanding of Jesus might lead to a gentler and more patient way of our interacting with one other. After all, none of us are perfect...we all make mistakes...and the question often becomes how will we interact with people who have fallen short of our expectations. In proclaiming a fully human Jesus as Lord, we are called to follow in his footsteps and be a people vulnerable to a change of heart: open to new ways and understandings beyond our preconceived notions, and generous in our forgiving one another. In this way, the world might be transformed, and move towards God’s vision of heaven on earth. That's really good news from an uncomfortable text.

Clergy Evaluation: "Brilliant orator, but he gets on our nerves..."

2011-08-04T10:33:00.006-04:00

James Howell, senior pastor of Myers Park United Methodist Church in Charlotte, North Carolina, wrote quite an article on Clergy Evaluation on Duke Divinity's Call & Response blog.

He brings up some great points that are worth exploring. He also shows a great deal of humor that I wanted to share:

Historical musings pop into my head. How would the Constantinople folk have ranked John Chrysostom on preaching? "Brilliant orator, but he gets on our nerves, and so we vote for exile!" Martin Luther on his relationship with his denomination (which my form now asks about)? "F-!" Julian of Norwich on caring for the poor? "She's in a room and hasn't come out for a decade." Jesus' annual assessment of Peter would have been dismal, although Jesus himself didn't rank well with messianic expectations.

Genesis Ugliness

2011-07-24T12:30:00.004-04:00

Babies fighting each other in the womb, selling birthrights for a quick meal, bizarre givings of women to men for marriage, plus plenty of lies, cheats, and basic bad behavior.

Is it any wonder that I’ve been doing my best to ignore the Genesis readings for the last few weeks?

Spending time with these stories in Genesis is not my idea of uplifting Christian preaching.

One can say that I at least tackled the worst one a few weeks ago: Abraham’s near sacrifice of Isaac.

And yet, in some ways, it is the easiest to preach because it’s point...however twisted in getting there...is clear: traditionally the text demonstrates Abraham dedication and trusting of God.

I made the point in that sermon of suggesting that it would have been better for Abraham (and for us, his descendants), if he had told God that he could not do violence to his son. “Take me, if you want Lord: I am yours, but I cannot sacrifice him as you ask.” Real fidelity to God is not shown by hurting another. If Abraham had said no to God, ironically he would have better shown what it means to be made in God’s image.

So I was able to address the story’s point even as I challenged the way the story is classically understood. I believe that, in this way, I honored the text, even as I rejected part of its conclusion.

Genesis is, for the most part, NOT set up for short stories with concise points. It is a broad HISTORICAL FICTION: meant to use figures from the past to relate to situations and customs of the audience it was intended for.

So, on first encounter with our ancient stories, I think we must try and place them in the hearing of the people they were meant for, and then attempt to discern what they were trying to say.

As we do so, we might find ideas that are worthwhile in the story. But it also means that we have to wade into some ugly places of the past, and realize that the point of the story may include the advocating of something that is now unacceptable to us.

It is not only okay, but right to reject certain parts of Biblical stories as either being outdated, uninformed, or simply wrong.

For example, in this morning’s excerpt, we encounter incest, polygamy and women as property. These positions are unacceptable in our society for good reason.

Now, none of these are the point of the story: it is not attempting to advocate these positions. So it’s okay to suggest that there may be something of value still to be found for us today, so long as we also acknowledge its problems. Looking for the message in this story does not mean we have to accept the givens about how things were.

For this particular passage this morning, I have to start with this confession:

I cannot make this a good, uplifting, feel-good story. It isn’t one, and was never intended to be one. All I can do this morning is explain some of the “why’s”.

We have to start by going back a few paragraphs. Last week, we had Jacob’s vision of a ladder to heaven, and was awed by the power of God. This is the same Jacob who, to this point, had been a scoundrel, liar, and cheat. Jacob was in the process of fleeing his homeland so his older brother Esau would not kill him for stealing his birthright and his father’s blessing. After this encounter with God, it seems like he felt some remorse for what he had done: he made a vow to God, which included the hope that he would one day come to his father’s house in peace.

He continues on his journey. Where is he going? At his parents request, he is going to his mother’s brother’s house, Laban, so he can marry one of his daughters.

Jacob meets Rachel first, and learns she is Laban’s daughter. The text tells us that he is completely moved by her:

Jacob kissed Rachel, and wept aloud. And Jacob told Rachel that he was her father’s kinsman, and that he was Rebekah’s son; and she ran and told her father.

When Laban heard the news about his sister’s son Jacob, he ran to meet him; he embraced him and kissed him, and brought him to his house. Jacob told Laban all these things, and Laban said to him, “Surely you are my bone and my flesh!” And he stayed with him a month.” (Genesis 29:11-14)

This is all before this morning’s text: and it enlightens what is to come. Jacob breaks forth with a change to honesty, telling Laban of all that has transpired. Laban responds “surely you are my bone and my flesh!” On the surface, this is about genealogy. But in reality, Laban recognizes Jacob as a fellow schemer and rogue. After a month of observation, the uncle is primed to get the best of his nephew.

Laban says:

“Because you are my kinsman, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what shall your wages be?” (Genesis 29:15)

Crafty Laban has quite a plan. He saw from the beginning that Jacob was infatuated with Rachel, and a month’s time would have confirmed it.

Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the elder was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel....Jacob loved Rachel; so he said, “I will serve you seven years for your younger daughter Rachel.”

(Genesis 29:16 & 18)

This was, of course, in leu of simply taking her as his wife and leaving, striking out on their own. Laban agrees. Seven years pass, and Laban pulls off the great switch: lo and behold, Jacob has married Leah! When he protests, Laban replies:

“This is not done in our country—giving the younger before the firstborn. Complete the week of this one, and we will give you the other also in return for serving me another seven years.” (Genesis 29:26-27)

What a scam! He gets 14 years work out of Jacob on a technicality. And the great irony: what had Jacob been rebelling about, even in the womb? Being second born! His deception has come home to roost.

Beaten, Jacob agrees to Laban’s demands: he cannot escape that he is the younger brother, even in a far off land.

(This sets up the jealousy and scheming between sisters Leah and Rachel that is to come in the next section of the story.)

Jacob pays dearly before his early path of deception. Certainly those hearing this story would see that Jacob, on some level, deserves what he gets. They would marvel at the way things turned out.

And yet, surprise surprise, beyond this morning, as the Genesis account continues, the unexpected does happen and the younger brother is blessed: suggesting that the trials and tribulations one experiences after “coming clean” is worth the effort.

I’ll let you decide if you like this story or not: I can’t say that I do. Thankfully we need not like, or even agree with the point of our ancient stories: but I believe we will be better people by having honest struggles with the texts that have been passed down.

Amen.

(Based on a sermon on Genesis 29:15-30 given at All Saints' Littleton on 7/24/2011)

Wheat and Weeds Parable

2011-07-17T12:07:00.010-04:00

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love.”

---Albus Dumbledore

He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’” (Matthew 13:24-30)

Again, we have a parable presented by Jesus. Moments later, we hear “what it means”, allegedly from Jesus himself. I illustrated in this story why the Gospel writers put their understanding of Jesus’ parables in the voice of Jesus, and expressed my skepticism that the master storyteller would immediately tell those who had just listened the one and only way that his story should be understood, thus stripping the parable of the need for any real thought.

If I was leading a group Bible study, I would spend some time discussing the parable before reading what the Gospel writer believes the story to mean. But since the lectionary puts it all together, I’ll do things in reverse:

Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” He answered, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen! (Matthew 13:36-43)

In hearing the Gospel writer’s interpretation of the parable, it is good for us to remember two things:

This comes out of Roman occupation and oppression: the putting to death of Christians and Jews, and what would be the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple
There was a major conflict and break with temple leadership: each group blamed the other for the Romans crackdown.

It must have literally felt as if the early Christians were being choked by weeds from all sides. No wonder that they understood the parable in terms of “us vs. them”. Hearing that God will one day right this wrong and reward the righteous were the words needed to live each day, and to keep people from giving up all hope.

Now, we turn back to the parable:

We are told that “good seed was sown” A reminder that creation was (and is) good.
We are told that “an enemy” came and sowed weeds: a reminder that evil is real and in the world.

We assume that wheat and weeds represent two types of people: good people and bad people. This fits the early Christians understanding, as a persecuted people. However, if it is the only understanding, it means that this parable has no good news other than for one who is oppressed (and is useless to the majority of today’s Christians, except as a warning about abusing power). Isn’t it possible for there to be more meaning in this parable?

What if wheat and weeds were to be understood as two sides of everyone: the capability to do great good, and great evil---the ability to love, and the ability to hate, the ability for peace, and the ability for violence?

Understanding it this way leaves us with a choice.

We can decide that “the reapers” will discern each individual as to whether or not they are more like wheat or more like weeds, and will be dealt with accordingly. This leaves us with a fear-based view of the world: in the end you get judged good or evil, so beware. Sadly, most people with this view end up living their lives in a way that tries to avoid "doing something bad" at all costs (not a pretty way to live).

Or, we can decide that in the life to come--when the kingdom of God becomes a reality--our evil tendencies (which are gathered first) will be bound and burned, leaving only our goodness to be gathered by God. This leads us to a life-giving outlook on life in the world (and, in my opinion, is a much better understanding of things).

Now, the critical question of every parable is “so what”. What does this mean for the hearer: what are we called to do?

If we are what has been sown, then it is our hope and responsibility to grow in goodness. We are called to embrace our good possibilities, and to resist the things that harm each other and the world. Furthermore, we are called to primarily see the goodness found in others, instead of focusing on everyone’s mistakes and failures.

But is that all we are called to do in this story?

One of the brilliant things about good parables is that just as there are multiple truths, there are multiple possibilities as for what should be done. Finding them often hinges on ability to rethink who we are in the parable.

In addition to being what is sown, I believe we also called to be the ones caring for what has been sown.

We are the workers tending the garden. It is not our responsibility to be ripping up weeds: evaluating people of their worth to God, deciding if they are good or evil. Instead, we are called to nurture the seedlings by tending to their needs and providing the environment for healthy growth.

It only takes a short look at the world to see how critical one’s environment is towards influencing decision making and behavior. When people get treated like weeds, and see themselves as such, it’s not hard to explain a great deal of their actions.

In this parable, God challenges us all to be invested in each other: treating all as “good seed”. To see, understand, and act on our charge to help everyone grow in love and goodness.

Thanks be to God.

(Based on a sermon given at All Saints’ Littleton on July 17, 2011)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two

2011-07-12T16:16:00.001-04:00

The movie series comes to an end this week. They have done a great job balancing being faithful to the books while making changes to make it work as a movie.

I have already written on Part One, and will be interested in seeing how they have continued to change and cut from the thousand page book.

Balancing the action with the overall themes of the series will be the movie’s greatest challenge. I have a few thoughts that I want to mention:

I have wondered for a while if they will do the Snape part justice: devoting enough time to Harry’s hatred of Snape and where things end. Now, I’m wondering if the movie might do too much. The book uses flashback so we can see Snape’s secrets, and I’m certain the film will as well. But the book never gives Harry and Snape a moment together where they see deeper into each other. Will they give Harry and Snape extra material? Will they have an enlightened conversation with each other? Will they, “see eye to eye” and not just each others eyes? After all, the sixth movie added a scene in the tower with Snape motioning Harry to keep quiet while he “takes care of things.” I would not be surprised if the movie adds a bit here, but I’m not sure it will be a good idea. After all, it’s only in the epilogue of the final book where we truly see Harry’s growth in overcoming his hatred for Snape.

I am thinking the house-elf/wizard growth is lost. I would not be surprised if we don’t even see Kreacher again, and I’ll actually be angry if we see “transformation” in him without a change in attitude by Harry. I just watched Part One again, and I’m dismayed at how easily they could have added a few lines into the scene with Kreacher to honor the book’s point of how, in Dumbledore’s words:

“Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards....Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike....We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward.” (HP & The Order of Phoenix)

I’m also wondering why in the world Wormtail is still alive. The movie chose to keep him around...for what purpose? Will we even see him again?

Finally, this movie is, after all, called “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.” While the movie has used the Hallows to move the plot, it has, so far, ignored the questions of power that the Hallows represent (other than in the very creative fashion of telling the story of the three brothers). We’ve missed the chance for Harry, Ron & Hermione to choose not to try and get the Elder Wand before Voldemort. There is still hope, in perhaps the learning about Dumbledore’s past, that Harry can wrestle with the temptation of obtaining power to make a stand vs. standing up with one’s own power.

Can’t wait for the release!

Let Everybody Listen

2011-07-10T12:43:00.007-04:00

(A sermon on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23 preached at All Saints' Littleton on 7/10/2011)

There’s no getting around this truth: Jesus’ words are controversial, on so many levels.

First off, there are the arguments as to what he really said and didn’t say. You may remember that numerous times I have said that having four Gospels is such a blessing for the church, because we have four very different portraits of who Jesus is: and it is only by combining them that we can answer the ultimate Jesus question “Who do you say that I am.” The problem with four Gospels, however, is you have four different versions of what Jesus said, and they often come into conflict with each other. Furthermore, there is a blurry line as to where Jesus’ words end, and the point of view of the writer emerges.

Then, there are the words themselves. Some of Jesus most controversial words were told in parables, like what we just heard. Parables go against the grain. They are stories that are upsetting because they fly in the face of accepted thought. Parables point us to deeper possibilities of truth and understanding. Jesus’ parables were especially dangerous because they confronted conventional wisdom.

This morning’s Gospel has two parts: Jesus first tells the story to the crowd, and then moments later retreats to a private area where he reveals its meaning. Taken at face value, Jesus tells and then immediately explains his story, so the mystery is stripped from the parable.

But would Jesus have really done this? Would the master storyteller immediately tell those who had just listened the one and only way that his story should be understood?

The parable itself was told by Jesus, that I feel certain. The explanation, however, is up for debate. After all, I imagine that there was intense discussion over what it really meant.

And to illustrate this, I wish to share with you: what might have happened...

Once upon a time, many years ago, four men gathered together. I don’t know their names, no one really knows for sure, but for the sake of argument, I’ll call them Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They had been charged by their communities to set down in writing the accounts of the life of Jesus. The stories of Jesus were alive and well, upon the hearts of many men and women, but there existed no written word that could be preserved for the generations to come.

Mark had written a first attempt at recalling everything he had heard and remembered about Jesus. The other men were helping him revise his work. On this particular day, they had reached the parable of the sower. In case you were wondering, it sounded nearly identical to what we heard this morning.

“Well,” said Mark, with a hint of worry in his voice, “What do you think?”

There was some silence. Then John spoke. “Well, the parable itself is just right. I remember it very well. What I don’t remember is Jesus explaining this parable. Did I sleep through that part?”

Mark smiled. “No, you’re right. However, we’re writing these stories down so people will know Jesus, AND will know what we, the Christian Movement, believe. We have to be unified and we have to be consistent. So we need to include what Jesus ACTUALLY MEANT with each story, and then we need show how it relates to our community.

Luke frowned. “That’s a problem. We talked and argued all the time about these stories. We’d come up with things and Jesus would agree or disagree with many of our ideas, but he never came out and said ‘This is actually what I mean!’ Do you remember Jesus explaining this story?

“Umm…no,” Mark admitted. “Of course, I didn’t take any notes. I think Mary was the only one writing stuff down.”

“She was, and I have her outline,” Luke said while waving a big parchment with the letter “Q” at the top, “but there’s no help here. There’s only the parable.”

“Look,” says Matthew, “I don’t see what the problem is. We heard this parable, and it’s easy to understand. Jesus’ words of God were the seed that was sown. The mission of Jesus fell on a lot of deaf ears. Lots of the seed was sown in vain. But even with the waste, there is some harvest. We should be confident that God’s work is being done. Some of our words will reach people. There is always some seed that grows and produces grain.”

“Okay,” agrees Mark. “But not everyone will interpret it this way. I want to have Jesus explain the parable so that there is one clear understanding. This will clarify what we believe and speak to the current problems that we are facing today.”

Luke is now nodding. “This will address the many pitfalls on the road of discipleship. Yet if we really hear and understand God’s word, we will bear fruit. The ‘fruit’ can then be seen specifically as the people that are won to Christianity by our preaching and teaching. We will reach whom we are supposed to reach."

John clearly disagreed. “You three are wrong,” he said. “The parable Jesus tells the crowd is dangerous, even if you try to explain what he meant. I will certainly NOT include it in my accounts of Jesus. If we say that the seed is the Word of God, and that it was just carelessly thrown around, we give the wrong message. After all, nobody farms that way: it’s wasteful! If I was sowing this field, I wouldn’t just throw the seed everywhere without taking care of it. I would use the best soil, the perfect blend of nutrients and water, and careful weeding to produce the perfect yield. No seed would go wasted.”

Suddenly, a new voice spoke. “Fortunately for the world, John, you are not God.”

The four men turned around. “Oh, Mary, come in. How long have you been there?”

Mary sat down. “Long enough to hear John’s brilliant plan on improving how God works in the world. I’m sure, John, that your garden would be nice and ordered with all of the deserving people in it. But God throws seed everywhere without expectations. No specific return is projected. There are no boundaries and no specially prepared ground. The rain falls where it falls and the sun shines where it shines, and lots of stuff sprouts up without thinning or weeding. And when it’s time for the harvest, everything is harvested, and God rejoices no matter how large or small the number. And that may sound impractical and foolish to you, John, but that is how generous God is.”

Mark, Luke, and Matthew appeared to enjoy seeing John put in his place. For his part, John looked like he wanted to be somewhere else.

“Way to go Mary!” “Well done!” “That’s telling him!”

But Mary was not finished. “Oh yes, you three, I bet I can guess what you all came up with. A nice explanation to take heart in the fact that while your preaching falls on deaf ears, that some people do hear and are converted to your right answers.” The room grew silent. “That’s a fine explanation when you see yourself as a teacher and the rest of the world as your students.”

“What happens when your fruit looks different from you? What happens when the person produced is not an intellectual teacher? You may want your converts to stand and sit, but what happens when they want to wave and clap their hands?”

“And what if the good fruit produced is the devoted Jew, the faithful son or daughter of Ishmael, or the pagan who is a good and just neighbor? The grain that is produced in this parable does not all look the same, and you are arrogant to think otherwise!”

There were shocked expressions on the four men’s faces.

Mark finally got the nerve to speak. “So you don’t agree with my interpretation of the parable?”

“It’s ONE interpretation Mark, and it will speak to a certain type of person. But the original parable has the ability to do so much more. It speaks to all sorts of people. A Pharisee, a leper, a Jew, and a Gentile can all hear this story and be touched in different and profound ways. The parable challenges people where they are, and invites them to new, wonderful ideas. Trust God…take heart …God works even when we can’t grasp what is going on. This is the power of the parable. No single group of people owns the parable. Ownership is shared by all.”

Luke looked pained. “But what about the Christian community? Didn’t Jesus tell us to go make Christians out of everyone?”

Mary shook her head. “Luke, ‘Christian’ was an unknown word to Jesus. We call ourselves Christians because of the way we’ve come to identify with Jesus. It is a description that we now use to describe ourselves. But Jesus called us to be FAITHFUL to God’s creation, which is far more reaching and inclusive of the world.”

“Jesus tells us to love God with everything we are; to love our neighbors and ourselves the same way. And Jesus practiced that. He cared for all, and He was especially gracious and loving of the people whom society discarded. Jesus was critical of people who insisted that everyone had to behave in the “proper” way. Jesus was calling the Pharisees not to abandon their religion, but to return their focus to loving God and caring for people. You’re heading down the road of the Pharisees if you insist that everyone must think like you!”

John looked angry. “So you don’t think we should be sharing our faith.”

Mary sighed. “Of course we are called to share our faith. Jesus not only taught this…he practiced it. But let’s be clear why we share our faith. We share our stories because God has engaged each and every one of us in a special way. We all have had moments of laughter, sadness, joy, and love. These moments have shaped who we are, and have forever changed us. We share ourselves because there is power, healing, and grace in each of our stories.”

“But sharing is about giving and receiving, and our stories will be received in different ways by different people. We also must be careful to spend more time listening to others than talking ourselves.”

The four men looked tired and frustrated.

“Look,” Mary concluded. “We can all write accounts of Jesus’ life. We can all pick and choose what we want to include: we have that luxury because we are the first to write these things down. The events live in our personal memories. But how will it read hundreds, even thousands of years from now? I am confident that Jesus’ example will stand the test of time. I am less confident of our words. We may not want the future generations to be tied to our single interpretation. What makes sense in our present world may lead to disaster in the future. We want our descendants to keep open minds: to live in the words and examples of Jesus."

"Well, 'Let anyone with ears listen.' Trust those words. Tell the story, and let the people of God hear for themselves."

Hear what the Spirit is saying to God’s people...

Dogs of Chiang Mai, Thailand

2011-07-07T11:24:00.003-04:00

My trip to Thailand was amazing. Thank God for digital cameras: I only have to worry about buying an additional memory card, instead of all the film I am using!

I found myself taking pictures of the many dogs that roamed around Chiang Mai. Most were either "street" or "temple" dogs (although likely many come and go), but almost all were well fed and gentle around people.

These are a few of my favorite photos.

The whole album can be seen on my Facebook page.

Light and Easy

2011-07-03T09:17:00.011-04:00

(A sermon on Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 given at All Saints' Episcopal Littleton on July 3rd, 2011)

This morning’s Gospel is a good illustration of a preaching/teaching trap.

What I’m referring to is the tendency of the preacher when, upon finding a memorable, positive, sound-byte part of a text, to immediately focus on it and then quickly move the congregation towards real life applications. The draw of doing so is easily understood: having a text that needs little explanation allows for more time on developing the important “so what it mean for me” question. The part I’m referring to is:

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest...For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

The assumption that we are likely to make concerning this text is that it’s a comparison between the way of Jesus and the way of the law. Jesus’ “yoke” is considered easy and his burden light when compared to following a bunch of laws.

The savvy fundamentalist preacher would now shout out, “It’s easy: All you got to do is be saved”, and the door would be opened to direct the sermon wherever one wanted.

Not only am I not certain that this conclusion works within the context of the actual passage, but I additionally feel obligated to discuss the idea of Jesus’ way being “easy” and of “light burden”. My observations suggest otherwise. We are called to an incredible amount of work that is costly: loving your enemies, striving for justice, wrestling with doubt, questioning assumptions...this is not easy at all! It can bring us into conflict with even those closest to us, and constantly challenges our routines. Living faithfully is hard work, and not without grief and pain.

I believe that in truth, today’s passage focuses on why people struggled with the implications of Jesus’ message.

Jesus starts out with a negative comparison: the children danced, but we failed to rejoice, and when they wailed, we did not morn.

Jesus uses this to illustrate the reactions to John the Baptist and himself.

John came solemnly declaring to prepare and repent, but people dismissed his call by focusing on his strange behaviors of not eating and drinking. “Crazy”, they called him.

Jesus comes and, as he says earlier in the chapter, “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.”

But people do take offense: not directly criticizing his work, but instead point to his eating and drinking as proof that he’s of questionable character.

Despite being the virtual opposite of John, both get called degrading names.

Talk about an example of “Same-same, but different!”

It’s disturbing to realize how often this happens in our society today. When the news is something someone doesn’t want to hear, the easiest way to dismiss the message is to disparage the messenger.

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Upon returning to the familiar words, I am struck that this is not really a comparison between following the law or following Jesus. It is also not a declaration that the way itself is easy, without hard work. Instead, the words suggest that the spirit of our approach to God and life matters.

If it is not marked by both passion and compassion, it becomes a burden on our soul: a never ending exercise in futility. Even what is right becomes wrong. But if our heart is light and forgiving, gentle while passionate, the feel of the work will not be burden. In other words, our soul will indeed be cared for.

I am reminded of a story concerning a woman working in her garden on the outer edge of town. Along comes a man down the road, and asks her, “What kind of people live in this town?”

The woman replies, “What kind of people lived in the town where you just left?”

"Terrible! Bitter, dishonest, unhappy complaining people who only cared about themselves. I’m so glad to leave them behind."

The gardner shook her head. “I’m sorry to say that you will likely find the same people here in this town.”

“Unbelievable!”, exclaimed the man. "I guess I’ll go somewhere else.”

“Good luck with that,” sighed the woman.

Sometime later, another man walked by on the road, and asked the same woman, “What kind of people live in this town?”

The woman replies, “What kind of people lived in the town where you just left?”

“Wonderful. Thoughtful and kind people. Even in our differences and our conflicts, we managed to hear and care for one another. I hated to leave.”

The gardner extended her hand and smiled. “Don’t worry: I’m pleased to say that is about how you’ll find folks here.”

Thanks be to God.

Same same, but Different

2011-06-27T14:33:00.010-04:00

(Adapted from a sermon preached on Genesis 22:1-14 at All Saints' Littleton NH on 6/26/2011)

I will admit that my body and mind, while in one sense rested, are also a little confused right now...

We left Thailand on the red-eye flight Friday morning, 12:15AM. Twenty-Six hours and two connecting flights later, we arrived in Boston...on time...at 3:25 in the afternoon...with it still being Friday.

As I said: I'm a good, but a little confused...

I loved Thailand: it was an incredible journey in so many ways, and I look forward to sharing stories with those wanting to hear.

We encountered many Thai people who spoke English well, and in reality, most Thai people knew at least a few words of English. We also discovered that there are a few Thai adapted English sayings that seem to be universally known.

My favorite one popped up in markets and restaurants. In an attempt to make a purchase, I would point to an apple, and the person would say “15 Bhat” (which sounds like a lot, but equals only a half of one of our dollars). Then I would point to bunch of bananas, to which the vender would reply “Same same”.

The funny thing, besides it’s sound, is that this could mean a number of things. Perhaps apples and bananas are the same price. Or, it could meant that apples were 15 Baht per pound, while the particular bunch of bananas I wanted cost 15 Bhat.

“Same same” meant that the items could be understood to be of equal value in some way, even though in the final evaluation, you might end up with more on one side or the other, and the final cost could be different as well.

Same same...but different.

This phrase is so popular that Darlene and I both ended up with t-shirts that proclaimed “same same” on the front, and “but different” on the back.

I’ve come to see this morning’s story of Abraham and Isaac as a prime example of Biblical “same-same, but different.” What I mean is that from the same story you can reach two understandings of equal validity. Same same. And yet, personally, I have come to see one understanding as a different illustration of the hope for our relationship with God and each other.

It is clear in this story that God tested Abraham.

“Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.”

Abraham undertakes the journey to the mountain, and when they reach the base of the mountain, Abraham and Isaac go up alone with what is needed. Isaac asks where the lamb is for the offering, to which Abraham cryptically replies that God will provide the lamb.

The text describes what follows tells only the actions, leaving out any dialogue or emotions:

So the two of them walked on together. When they came to the place that God had shown him, Abraham built an altar there and laid the wood in order. He bound his son Isaac, and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son.

Even divided from what must have been gut-wrenching terror filled dialogue, the horror of this scene is undeniable. If this happened today, Abraham would be jailed for life for his action, and Isaac would require years of therapy. I have to believe that the ancient hearer of this story would have recoiled from it as well.

The angel stops the “offering” at the last moment, saying on God’s behalf: “...for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.”

Classically, it has been insisted that Abraham passed this test of God. After all, Abraham ends up being blessed by God.

“I will indeed bless you, and I will make your offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore. And your offspring shall possess the gate of their enemies, and by your offspring shall all the nations of the earth gain blessing for themselves, because you have obeyed my voice.”

It sounds like reward for a great success. But, personally, I’ve come to the opinion that Abraham failed this test.

Same-same, but different.

What is it that God really wanted to see from Abraham: obedience? God clearly already had that: Abraham always did as God instructed.

As a results of “obeying God’s voice” concerning the sacrificing of Isaac, Abraham receives a blessing of God that had already been promised earlier in chapters 12, 15, and 17 of Genesis. The only thing added in this blessing is “And your offspring shall possess the gate of their enemies.”

I wonder: is “possessing the gate of one’s enemies” really what God wanted for Abraham? After all, what has been different with Abraham from others before him is Abraham’s willingness to both be obedient to God and question what God was doing: Abraham asked “Why am I childless, when you promised me descendants?” Abraham asked, “Would you destroy a town if there are 50 righteous people there? What about twenty? What about ten?”

Abraham was the first to really live into the promise of being made in God’s image. Through his interactions with God and others, he showed wisdom and insight. He learned from his experiences, and seems to show compassion and honor that truly reflected God. So, in this final test, was the willingness to sacrifice Issac without question really a demonstration of the reflection of being made in God’s image? I just don’t think so.

The overall message of the story remains either way: “God will provide.” I believe, however, that God wanted a different path for Abraham. Upon reaching the place of sacrifice, I think God wanted Abraham to say, “I cannot do violence to my son. It is not for me to do. Take me, if you want Lord: I am yours. You will do with Isaac as you believe just, but I cannot sacrifice him as you ask.”

Perhaps, in this context, saying no to God was the better answer.

If Abraham had been able to do so, perhaps his descendants could be the ones to reconcile with their enemies, instead of simply possessing their gates.

Same-same, but different.

Blog on Hiatus until June 26th

2011-06-06T10:45:00.002-04:00

Every day is a winding road...

I get a little bit closer

Every day is a faded sign...

I get a little bit closer

(Thanks to Sheryl Crow)

Spirit Moves in Mysterious Ways

2011-06-02T08:58:00.003-04:00

JJ approves of the new sign at All Saints' Episcopal Church in Littleton, NH.

The timely wind made his ears look like they were flying.

I must admit that part of me hopes that Bono would be pleased as well!

Memorial Day in Church

2011-05-29T14:11:00.004-04:00

(A sermon preached Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend, 5/29/2011)

Contrary to the assumptions of many, Memorial Day is not officially a celebration of the church. Unlike Independence Day and Thanksgiving Day (both which I have talked about in the past), it is not on our church calendar, and there is no prayer in our Prayerbook to mark this day. It did not come from the church, nor was it formally adopted by it.

Robert Bellah writes that sociologists have suggested that America has a secular "civil religion" – one with no association with any religious denomination or viewpoint – that has incorporated Memorial Day as a sacred event. Our American tradition includes an obligation to honor the sacrifices made by our nation to earn our freedom. With the Civil War, a new theme of death, sacrifice and rebirth enters the civil religion. Memorial Day gave ritual expression to these themes, integrating the local community into a sense of nationalism. The American civil religion in contrast to that of France was never anticlerical or militantly secular; in contrast to Britain it was not tied to a specific denomination like the Church of England. Instead, Americans borrowed selectively from different religious traditions in such a way that the average American saw no conflict between the two, thus mobilizing deep levels of personal motivation for the attainment of national goals. (Civil Religion in America, by Robert Bellah, 1967. Used by Wikipedia)

This cannot completely explain why the church has not officially adopted Memorial Day: after all, the church has taken and adapted plenty of public events and celebrations in the past. Perhaps it’s only a matter of time. Then again, one could argue that every day is a Memorial Day in the church.

Regardless, this morning I want to share with you some Memorial Day history, which comes mostly from the Wikipedia Memorial Day entry:

Our tradition of Memorial Day comes from the time after the Civil War, honoring the soldiers who had died by decorating their graves with flags or flowers. By 1865 the practice of decorating soldiers' graves had become widespread in the North. The first known observance was in Boalsburg, Pennsylvania, on October, 1864, and each year thereafter. Similar events followed around the northern states on various scales.

In Charleston, South Carolina, in 1865, freed enslaved Africans celebrated at the Washington Race Course, today the location of Hampton Park. The site had been used as a temporary Confederate prison camp for captured Union soldiers in 1865, as well as a mass grave for Union soldiers who died there. Immediately after the cessation of hostilities, freedmen exhumed the bodies from the mass grave and reinterred them in individual graves. They built a fence around the graveyard with an entry arch and declared it a Union graveyard. On May 1, 1865, a crowd of up to ten thousand, mainly black residents, including 2800 children, proceeded to the location for events that included sermons, singing, and a picnic on the ground.

Beginning in 1866 the southern states had their own Memorial Days. The earliest Confederate Memorial Day celebrations were simple, somber occasions for veterans and their families to honor the day and attend to local cemeteries.

General John A. Logan may be most responsible for growth of a particular holiday. On May 5, 1868, in his capacity as commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic – the organization for Northern Civil War veterans – Logan issued a proclamation that "Decoration Day" should be observed nationwide. It was observed for the first time on May 30 of the same year; the date was chosen because it was not the anniversary of a battle.

There were events in 183 cemeteries in 27 states in 1868, and 336 in 1869. The northern states quickly adopted the holiday; Michigan made "Decoration Day" an official state holiday in 1871 and by 1890 every northern state followed suit. The ceremonies were sponsored by the Women's Relief Corps, which had 100,000 members.

The Decoration Day speech became an occasion for veterans, politicians and ministers to commemorate the war – and at first to recall the atrocities of the enemy. They mixed religion and celebratory nationalism and provided a means for the people to make sense of their history in terms of sacrifice for a better nation, one closer to their God. People of all religious beliefs joined together, and the point was often made that the German and Irish soldiers had become true Americans in the "baptism of blood" on the battlefield.

By the end of the 1870s the rancor was gone and the speeches praised the soldiers of both the Union and Confederacy. In 1882, the name of Decoration Day was formally changed to Memorial Day in "memory" and 'honor" of those who gave their lives fighting for a common cause, America.

This name, however, did not become more common until after World War II and was not declared the official name by Federal law until 1967.

Many Americans observe Memorial Day by visiting cemeteries and memorials. A national moment of remembrance takes place at 3 p.m. local time. Another tradition is to fly the flag of the United States at half-staff from dawn until noon local time. The half-staff position remembers the more than one million men and women who gave their lives in service of their country. At noon their memory is raised by the living, who resolve not to let their sacrifice be in vain, but to rise up in their stead and continue the fight for liberty and justice for all. The National Memorial Day Concert takes place on the west lawn of the United States Capitol the Sunday before Memorial Day. The concert is broadcast on PBS and NPR. Music is performed, and respect is paid to the men and women who died in war.

There have, however, been a number of the historical problems concerning Memorial Day. Many of the celebrations have included a demonization of whatever is the perceived other side: not just concerning the Civil War, but the world conflicts that have followed. Certain ideologies have upended Memorial Day at different times. Continuing from Wikipedia:

In many southern locations in the 1890s from the consolatory emphasis of honoring soldiers to public commemoration of the Confederate "Lost Cause". Changes in the ceremony's hymns and speeches reflect an evolution of the ritual into a symbol of cultural renewal and conservatism in the South.

By the 1950s, the theme of Memorial Day had become more geared towards American exceptionalism and understood duty to uphold freedom in the world.

There have also been challenges beyond nationalism. The tradition has become permanently linked to sporting events. One of the longest-standing traditions is the running of the Indianapolis 500, the auto race has been held in conjunction with Memorial Day since 1911, run on the Sunday preceding the Memorial Day holiday. The Coca-Cola 600 stock car race has been held later the same day since 1961. The Memorial Tournament golf event has been held on or close to the Memorial Day weekend since 1976.

On June 28, 1968, the Congress passed the Uniform Holidays Bill which moved three holidays from their traditional dates to a specified Monday in order to create a convenient three-day weekend. The holidays included Washington's Birthday, Veterans Day, and Memorial Day. The change moved Memorial Day from its traditional May 30 date to the last Monday in May. The law took effect at the federal level in 1971. This change is still controversial. The VFW stated in a 2002 Memorial Day Address:

Changing the date merely to create three-day weekends has undermined the very meaning of the day. No doubt, this has contributed a lot to the general public's nonchalant observance of Memorial Day. (David Mechant, April 28, 2007, "Memorial Day History", in the Wikipedia entry)

While the actual significance of the original date is debatable, it is pretty clear that Memorial Day Weekend’s role as the unofficial start of summer has come to dominate the observance. And I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that, in the vocabulary of many, the phrase “Memorial Day” include the word “sale.”

As I said at the beginning, Memorial Day is not officially a day marked by the Episcopal Church. Certainly remembering those who have given their lives in service is appropriate for church communities to do, and explains why plenty of individual churches celebrate the day.

Perhaps some of what the church has to offer Memorial Day can be found in Paul’s insightful preaching in the Book of Acts this morning (Acts 17:22-31). Paul observes the many religious practices of the Athenians. He does not spend it time condemning what is wrong with their practice. Instead, he lifts up the Athenians pursuit of religious understanding, and building on their creativity and passion, preaches about God “...in whom we live and move and have our being”. (Acts 17:28)

Perhaps it is the role of the church to not only help remember what is good in Memorial Day...honoring those who died in service to their country...but to also lift up the day as something more: articulating a vision of a world that so values peoples’ lives as dwelling in God, that violence towards others becomes unacceptable.

Perhaps this is why I find the choir’s anthem this morning, A Song of Peace, so appropriate:

[From the United Methodist Hymnal (Stanzas 1 & 2 by Lloyd Stone, Stanza 3 by Georgia Harkness)]

This is my song, O God of all the nations,
A song of peace for lands afar and mine;
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine:
But other hearts in other lands are beating
With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean,
And sunlight beams on clover leaf and pine;
But other lands have sunlight too, and clover,
And skies are everywhere as blue as mine;
O, hear my song, Thou God of all the nations,
A song of peace for their land and for mine.

This is my song, O God of all the nations,
A song of peace for (people) in every place;
And yet I pray for my beloved country
The reassurance of continued grace:
Lord, help us find our oneness in the Savior,
In spite of differences of age and race.

Amen.

Joyful Community: Acts and now

2011-05-16T14:30:00.006-04:00

(A sermon on Acts 2:42-47 at All Saints' Littleton on 5/15/2011)

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

There are a number of insights about the early church to be drawn from this morning’s lesson from Acts.

First, some words of background:

Most people know that The Book of the Acts of the Apostles is the account of the events after the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Traditionally, it is understood to haven been written by the same person who wrote the Gospel of Luke. Scholars still debate both this person’s real identity, and also whether or not the same person actually wrote both books. What is basically agreed on is that it is written as a continuation of Luke’s Gospel (whether by the same person or not), and therefore written with the vision of Jesus presented in Luke’s Gospel (and thus differs with some of the events of the other three Gospels). It also shares a focus with the Gospel of Luke: written primarily for a Greek and Gentile audience, rather than Jewish one.

Dating Acts is highly disputed. Rather than enter this debate, one can only say for sure that it was written after Luke’s Gospel, and that the author must have had access to it. It is also likely that it was completed before the Gospel of John was written. It also appears that the writer did not have access to Paul’s letters that are found in our Epistles.

This is important for us to understand because a great deal of Acts is devoted to Paul. We get most of Paul’s life story from Acts (his vicious persecution of Christians, his dramatic encounter and conversion on the road of Damascus, the changing of his name from Saul to Paul, and his subsequent preaching and teaching throughout the world), and yet we never hear a letter of Paul quoted. In fact, the Book of Acts never even mentions that Paul wrote any letters!!! It should then not be surprising to us to discover that Paul’s letters has a number of discrepancies with the Book of Acts. (Wikipedia)

What The Book of Acts seems to mostly be about is how the early church gets started by those who followed Jesus.

Now let us turn to this morning’s excerpt. This takes place after Peter has given his first, well received sermon.

What is first to be noticed is that the church is experiencing incredible growth. There is a huge jump of people committed: from a community around our size, 120 people according Acts 1:15, to 3000 new people joining by the conclusion of Peter’s sermon in verse 41. (The results of the Holy Spirit and some mighty fine preaching!)

Much is made about verses 44 and 45: “All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.” There are plenty of people who point to this passage as to the way we are supposed to live in community. Others point to this as proof as to why the early church’s vision of living in community is completely unrealistic today. Instead of jumping into this debate (which some would call ideal living, and others would call Communism), the spirit of this verse is that people were dedicated to caring and providing for one another.

Another insight to see is that, while we know that there was some tension and bad behavior between Jews and Christians by the second century, this was not the case initially. “Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple”, is just one of a number of suggestions that most Jews and emerging Christians got along just fine with one another. The Christian movement within Judaism was initially only seen as a threat by certain leaders: otherwise, there was close relationship between the two groups. (Emerson Powery in Feasting on the Word, Year A, Vol.2, eds. David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, 2010, p. 425)

What should be most familiar to all of us in this morning’s passage is the opening verse. We hear the phrasing of this verse in question form at every baptism and confirmation. In the baptismal covenant of the Episcopal Church, after we finish with our Creedal questions of believing in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, we are asked 5 critical questions about how we are going to live out our faith. The first one is this:

Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?

And we are to answer: I will, with God’s help.

Taken right from this morning’s passage, it is no stretch to say that we place great value on this verse from Acts, even if few of us know where it comes from.

Quickly, let us consider the pieces found here...

Apostles’ teaching and fellowship: one could consider the impact of teaching and fellowship separately, but I like that they are linked together. Our learning about God...from our exploring of scripture to our observations from life experience...is to be done within the bonds of relationships. Nurturing development happens as we study and play together: within times of serious discussion and relaxed banter. We are informed by the relationship that Jesus had not only with his disciples, but with the crowds in general: bonding with the stranger as well as the known friend.

Breaking of the Bread recalls last week’s gospel, where the two men suddenly see Jesus in the stranger they have spent the day with. It refers to not only our Eucharistic action that we gather for each Sunday, but every time we sit and eat with one another: the intimate sharing of a meal, traditionally restricted by culture and class. Breaking of bread, an action Jesus wished for us to see him in, means breaking the barriers we have between each other. It is opening our eyes to see with our mind and heart connected: letting go of what we think we know about people, and seeing more.

Finally, in the prayers we are called, more than anything, to be connected to each other. Our communal prayers each Sunday are an invitation to awareness: to see that our connection to God flows through our connection to others.

All of these lead to a sense of awe and wonder: for the world and each other. When we look closely at everything, we start to see that the sacred is to be found in everything, and everyone. In the community described in The Book of Acts this morning, we are to see a people filled by joy: connected to each other by a common awareness of beauty and mystery that is found when life is focused on God’s constant presence.

Will we continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers? Will we see and experience the awe and wonder that defines this precious thing called life?

With God’s help, we will.

May the Fourth be with you...

2011-05-04T09:01:00.002-04:00

Today is Star Wars appreciation day. Great mythology to be found in the classic series: highly influenced by Joseph Campbell's The Hero with a Thousand Faces.

As to the origins of this day, here is the Wikipedia link Star Wars Day.

"May the Fourth be with you...."