All are invited to come to the table--His Table--and be nourished, strengthened, encouraged, accepted and loved as He does us. The door is open, welcome to the Episcopal Church USA.
"In the last few years economic turmoil, natural disasters and an ongoing wave of war, conflict and uncertainty have shattered our confidence in the future. Many of us laughed at the end times gurus who thought that the world would end on May 21st but if we are honest, deep within us was an uncertainty about the future that made us wonder if they could be right.
What we believe about the future toward which God is leading us will greatly impact our ability to both prepare for the future here on earth and participate in God’s redeeming activity. For most of us the future we dream of is shaped, consciously or unconsciously, by a culture that tells us success and prosperity will follow us all the days of our lives.
Tough economic times and natural disasters have brought that dream into question but have not replaced it with a compelling and gratifying new vision. Proverbs 29:18 tells us that without a vision the people perish, and I think it is true. Not only are we in danger of perishing, but many others in our world are already perishing because of our limited understanding of the future and particularly of a vision of world made new in which all are provided for that God wants us to be a part of..."
Read the rest here...good words for hard times: http://godspace.wordpress.com/2011/06/04/turbulent-times-are-here-to-stay-believe-in-the-future/
You will need to cut and paste the link as Blogger won't let me paste the link into the phrase "good words for hard times"...eye roll.
Trinity Episcopal Church, Ashland, OR Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16
The Rev. Anne K. Bartlett, Rector Luke 12:32-40
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. Amen.
In yesterday’s Wall Street Journal, columnist Peggy Noonan wrote:
The biggest political change in my lifetime is that Americans no longer assume that their children will have it better than they did. This is a huge break with the past, with assumptions and traditions that shaped us.
Optimists think that if we manage to turn a few things around, their kids may have it . . . almost as good. The country they inherit may be . . . almost as good. And it's kind of a shock to think like this; pessimism isn't in our DNA. But it isn't pessimism, really, it's a kind of tough knowingness, combined, in most cases, with a daily, personal commitment to keep plugging.(1)
Do these words resonant with you? They did with me. I worry about the future our children and grandchildren will inherit, the seemingly insolvable problems my generation has bequeathed to them. This is not the Age of Aquarius we thought was dawning back when we were young. This is an age of anxiety and anger and an increasing disconnect between the old-fashioned American dream and the reality of ordinary people on the ground.
Another sea change since the 60’s has been the place of the church in the culture. So much has been made of the rise of the religious right, of the growth of conservative Christian congregations. But the truth is, the political leverage of right-wing Christianity peaked some years ago and has been on the wane for a while. But what is also true is that mainline Christian denominations have been marginalized in numbers and influence to the point where even many of our friends –much less the media -- think it’s quaint that we still bother to worship on Sundays, because, really, what’s the point?
We may be getting back to where to started two thousand years ago – the church as a minority, countercultural sect. Though in this country we are not persecuted, thanks be to God, we have definitely been discounted as having anything important to say to society at large. And it’s all happened so fast, to those of us of a certain age, our loss of place in the culture, our not-so-long ago positions of prestige and status and influence.
This may not be a bad thing. For years now, I have come to believe that as a church we’re being purified, to use traditional Christian language – and why shouldn’t we? It’s our language, it belongs to us, and we should use it, even if it isn’t in fashion to use such words as “sin” and “redemption,” even if it makes some folk uncomfortable to hear words like “purification” and “faith.” We lose our language, we lose our bearings, our identity as Christ’s church. We forget we have been bought with price and we become instead a gathering of like-minded, friendly, tolerant people who find fellowship and comfort and a sense of belonging, but please! We don’t really want to be changed, much less transformed. Let’s not take this church-y stuff, these ancient texts, these aesthetically-pleasant rituals too seriously.
I have two words from the Lord for us today. Please take them seriously.
The first word is this: Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Those words were written to a struggling Christian congregation who was facing hostility, not mere indifference, from their surrounding culture. They were words written to encourage them, to put some courage into them, by reminding them of what they already knew in that way of “deep knowingness” that comes from within, rooted in experience. When you hear these ancient, encouraging words – faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen -- don’t make the modern mistake of thinking of faith as “belief” in the sense of giving intellectual assent to a set of propositions, almost in the sense of doing someone a favor by deigning to agree to such things.
No. Let go of the head trip, the over-importance of your own thoughts. Rather, reframe faith as trust. As in: These words are true and can be trusted. As in: an assurance, an inner conviction, a trust that God will make all things well in God’s good time. As in trusting the Way of Jesus to be the Way of Life, the Way Home. I have faith, I trust the Holy Spirit is working in me and in you and in our world in ways we cannot begin to imagine.
We say in the old words of the Nicene Creed that we believe in God, we believe in Jesus Christ, we believe in the Holy Spirit who gives us life. Faith is believing in things that cannot be seen, trusting in things that cannot be proved. I believe in my marriage. I believe in my children. I believe in you. I believe in the future of this parish. I don’t know what shape it will take, but I believe in your ongoing, enduring, and faithful life as Christ’s Body in this place.
Credo. We believe inGod. Credo. We give our hearts to God. Our heads follow as they can, some days more easily than others. Faith is trust that the God whom we have come to know in creation and in Jesus and in the presence of the Holy Spirit, the God whom we have come to know in Scripture and sacrament and in the ordinary everyday-ness of our lives is the same God who will see us safely Home, you and me and the whole world, the whole broken, blessed creation.
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Abraham and Sarah, the biblical parents of us all, showed us how to live in faith, how to experience life as a journey, not knowing exactly where we are going, ever on the move, camping out, glimpsing and greeting the Promised Land across a far-off river, never fully getting there this side of the Kingdom, but trusting we are Homeward bound. That’s the life of faith, with all kinds of adventures along the way, some bringing sorrow and tears, others bringing delight and ever-unexpected newness of life.
In the “deep knowingness” of faith, we, like Abraham and Sarah and all the saints, know that we are but strangers and sojourners upon this earth, resident aliens, homesick pilgrims yearning for the city of God, longing to be Home, trusting we are beloved children in spite of our selves, this ragtag, motley crew of men and women and children called the Church, trying to make our way Home by following the Way of the One we call the Christ, plugging away with a daily, personal commitment fueled by prayer and sometimes by our own stubbornness not to give up.
It’s just so easy to get lost. To give up. To wander away. To lose faith that what we’re doing means anything.
That’s exactly, precisely when we need to be encouraged. Which is why we need to be in each other’s company on this journey Home.
Listen to what Frederick Buechner says about faith, in writing on this text:
By faith, we understand, if we are to understand it all, the madness and the lostness we see all around us and within us are not the last truth about the world but only the next to last truth…Faith is the eye of the heart, and by faith we see deep down beneath the face of things – by faith struggle against all odds to be able to see – that the world is God’s creation even so. It is God who made us and not we ourselves, made us out of his peace to live in peace, out of his light to dwell in light, out of his love to be above all things loved and loving. That is the last truth about the world.(2)
And then Buechner goes on to say, Is it true? And he answers, No, of course not. Look at the world around us, the madness and the lostness of it. But Yes, it is true, we know it is true in that way of deep knowingness, we have experienced those moments of God’s grace, we have caught glimpses of God’s peace and light and love, those holy moments we cannot forget and that keep us going in spite of ourselves. So we live, says Buechner, in the
no-man’s land between the Yes and the No because that’s where faith lives, and always has; and we wait for the next invasion of hope, for yet another glimpse of Kingdom even now breaking into our world, into our sight.
Which brings me the second word from the Lord this day: Be not afraid, little flock, for it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the Kingdom. Be not afraid. But of course we are afraid. And when human beings get afraid, we clutch, we tighten, our breath becomes shallow. When we are not afraid, when we trust, we let go, we loosen our grip, we breathe from our bellies like little children do.
When we are afraid, we tend to trust only what we can see and touch and count and control. We cling to our stuff as if it could save us often more out of fear than out of greed. We clench, we cling, we hold tight, we pull inward and away from others, we lose our faith in the promises of God.
Again this week, Jesus tells us to be ready, to be alert and attentive, because our times are in God’s hands and we need to be ready to receive the gift of God’s presence, which can happen at any moment, day or night. But the tone of today’s gospel is not one of alarm or cause for panic but rather a plea that we remain ready to receive the gift of grace, that we are willing and ready to be in those thin places where heaven touches earth where we are no longer servants but beloved friends at Our Lord’s banquet, where he sits us down so that he, himself may serve us and feed us.
There are altars everywhere. There are signs of the Kingdom below the surface of things every moment that can be glimpsed here and now by those who have eyes of faith to see, there is an ongoing invasion of divine hope into our anxious, angry, clenched-up world.
I believe that. I’ve experienced it. And so have you, dearly beloved ones. So have you. And I also have come to believe that it is the task of the church, of this church, to hold that hope – in faith -- for the sake of the world – not a Pollyanna-ish hope, not a silly, ungrounded optimism, not a denial of reality, but a strong and brave and gritty and enduring hope that is rooted in the deep knowledge of the gospel. That is what it means to have faith. That is our burden and our blessing.
In Christ’s name, this day and evermore.
1.Peggy Noonan, The Wall Street Journal, August 7,2010, OpEd Page.
2. Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons (2006), “Faith,” p.71.
I thank my new friend Martha Phelps-Cotton for sharing this gem tonight as she recovers from the flu, and as she thinks of her son Reid, far to the north, still progressing after his chemotherapy for AML [acute myeloid leukemia]. That Martha feels or has the inner strength to share is amazing...so here is the poem that moved her to share it with me and her support crowd, a poem by the gifted yet humble Mary Oliver:
Maggi Dawn, Robinson College chaplain extraordinaire at Cambridge, has come across this timely piece of poetry by Charles Lathrop in which lies the quandry of the Anglican Communion [in my humble opinion...]. I think that you will see the wisdom of his words without me muddling the waters. So gather 'round the Table to hear and ultimately see....
In search of a round table
Concerning the why and how and what and who of ministry, One image keeps surfacing: A table that is round. It will take some sawing To be roundtabled. Some redefining And redesigning, Some redoing and rebirthing Of narrow long Churching Can painful be For people and tables. It would mean no daising And throning, For but one king is there And he is a foot washer, At table no less. And what of narrow long ministers When they confront A round table people, After years of working up the table To finally sit at its head, Only to discover That the table has been turned round? They must be loved into roundness, For God has called a People Not "them and us". "them and us" are unable to gather round; for at a round table there are no sides and ALL are invited to wholeness and to food. At one time Our narrowing churches Were built to resemble the Cross But it does no good For building to do so, If lives do not. Round tabling means No preferred seating, No first and last, No better, and no corners For the "least of these". Roundtabling means Being with, A part of, Together and one. It means room for the Spirit And gifts And disturbing profound peace for all. We can no longer prepare for the past. To be Church, And if He calls for other than a round table We are bound to follow. Leaving the sawdust And chips, designs and redesigns Behind, in search of and in presence of The Kingdom That is His and not ours.
In the quiet of this still time of night when all is settled from a day of thanks and feasting, I now focus on the needs of those far-flung friends in the blogosphere who are in need of heartfelt prayers...
I think of Eileen at EpiscopaliaFem for one. She has had a terrible time with sick children, trying to fulfill a job promotion and deal with domestic issues, and through it all, maintains her faith with a steadfastness in spite of it all that baffles my mind. Please keep our Eileen in your prayers so she can get through this maelstrom...
I remember also Elizabeth+ at Irreverent Musings. She lost her dad to a terminal illness this last week and she has blogged about it some on her site. If I may be so bold as to ask for prayer for my friend, Elizabeth+, I would appreciate it, even from the Mad One. Prayers are ascending, E+...
Breath of Heaven, hold me together...
be forever near me, Breath of Heaven...
And for my friend Lynne in Newport News, VA I ask your prayers as well...such unselfish giving to the poor and the homeless, working tirelessly through the holiday at a shelter whilst doing hospice work at home and in the community, displaying humbly Christ's compassion and living His mission...I bid your prayers...
I give thanks to God for blessing a friend in Tacoma with a job after a long time of unemployment that has sent her into frequent spirals of depression and hopelessness. Now she knows not only future financial relief but also peace of mind. She had returned to church after a spell of that same hopelessness due to my relentless and loving prodding. She's not an Episcopalian yet but I can hope! And no, T, that's definitely not why I wanted you to go!
I'm thankful too forLisa's story of faith at My Manner of Life. Need to be inspired to love your neighbor and share the Gospel without causing physical harm? You know, no Bible marks from being thumped....Go and read her story...
As Advent approaches and our long green season comes near to its conclusion, I am reminded of the lore surrounding this time of transition. In and of themselves, transitions are not always easy; in fact they rarely are simple or straightforward. It's like the weather here in southern Oregon. One day it can be sunny, in the 70's and a warm, spring-like breeze blows, and then the next day the temperature drops 15 to 20 degrees and the wind is chilled, the sky battleship gray and you know a new season has arrived. Transitions can be abrupt like that, like day and night by the flick of a switch. And so Advent draws near and with it, the promise of new life: a spiritual spring of the soul as we prepare for His coming as flesh of our flesh, and blood of our blood; in the likeness of flawed humanity, His creation from the beginning.
O Desire of Nations, come...
It's not about giving gifts or putting up decorations, trees or stars, or dressing festively...or is it? It's about a simple thing: Love. Loving us enough to become one of us, the Divine diminished to the dust of the earth and yet exalted to the place of such value that God comes to us, instead of us to Them. And in the voices of others we hear the basic teaching of that Love. And those others don't have to know God for the Voice of the Trinity to speak through their words or music, their art or engineering, or any of the other myriad of gifts we are given. After all, we are all loved and the Cross was for all of us too, without exclusion.
I close this entry with another poem by Mary Oliver from "Why I Wake Early"*. The mystery of creation and of God are so clear. I hope you sense its gentle message for what it is, in the quiet...
Night after night darkness enters the face of the lily
which, lightly, closes its five walls around itself, and its purse
of honey, and its fragrance, and is content to stand there
in the garden, not quite sleeping, and, maybe, saying in lily language
some small words we can't hear even when there is no wind anywhere,
its lips are so secret its tongue is so hidden --
or, maybe, it says nothing at all but just stands there with the patience
of vegetables and saints until the whole earth has turned around and the silver moon
becomes the golden sun -- as the lily absolutely knew it would, which is itself, isn't it, the perfect prayer?
*Mary Oliver, "Why I Wake Early", page 24, 2004 edition.
This last week, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori, visited the Diocese of Kansas. According to the Episcopal Life article, she visited 14 churches in 4 days, saw the destruction of homes by forces of nature, and found the love of God everywhere she went in the people she met and the places she visited. I see a lot in this picture, and its not simply of a woman in a field of golden wheat either...it is so much more. Can you see what I see?
Here are some of the things she said while in Kansas. So much truth in so few words. If only our common life were so simple...it can be if we try.
"I see health in our churches where people are loving God and loving their neighbors," she said. Her face lit up when she talked about evangelism and the many opportunities for work in the community. "What has God given you," she asked, "and what in you can give back to the community?" She was asked of her dream for the Episcopal Church. "To restore all people to unity with God in Christ," she cited from the Book of Common Prayer. "My dream for the Episcopal Church is that we would be a shining example of this to the world."
Most bloggers that I read have posted either prayers, comments or observations on the Virginia Tech tragedy. I have posted reflections by both Barbara Crafton+ and my bishop, +JohncyItty on the matter.
I have watched some of the interviews with parents of slain students yesterday and now, today. I don't know or pretend to know how these moms and dads--as well as sisters and brothers--are holding it together at a time like this. It is amazing to hear them and see them talk about their sons and daughters, no longer living, cut down in the prime of their young adulthood; their futures burning brightly ahead of them.
But in hearing these parents speak, the light of their children is not completely out, nor will it be. These are parents ready to celebrate the lives of their fallen children and remember the best of what made these young men and women the outstanding students they were to them and their classmates.
The vigil held last night on the campus was amazing to see live on whatever network you were watching. The images so powerful in their stillness and silence. There was such strength and hope in the midst of devastation, I was moved with emotion and could feel their collective grief and disbelief all at once, as well as their determination never to forget their fallen friends and classmates.
A memorial fund has already been set up for contributions in honor of the students and professors killed. Presumably it will be used for scholarships in their names and, possibly a physical memorial at some point in the future.
We learn today that a judge in 2005 had ruled that the young man--the shooter--was a danger to himself and others. We also learned that two English professors tried to raise the alarm about this troubled young man, but no one would take them seriously or consider further action to protect the individual or the community. We ask ourselves: Why were these two women not listened to or taken seriously? Why, after it had been noted that his behavior was questionable by others, that no one else reported his disturbing behavior? So many questions, too few answers.
"...the more attention you give a thing, the more powerful it becomes..."
We need to also remember that the more attention you pay to the shooter and the circumstances surrounding his actions, the more power you give him and others like him to do the same. We have seen this already: the campus scare at the U of Minnesota in Minneapolis, Springwater High School and Willamette High School in Oregon; the first a shooting, the second, a bomb blast. Thankfully no one was hurt but again it tells us that things were not coincidental, what with all the media coverage on the VT shooter. There are many lone individuals who are hurting and needing help, this is obvious. The ones we should be paying more attention to are the victims, living and dead, and giving them the power that was taken from them instead.
The politicalization of the gun issue is disturbing. Even the President and presidential candidates knew that this was not the time to raise gun law questions or comment accordingly. This is a time of mourning and grief, of trying to support and comfort the survivors and the families. Gun laws should be the last thing on anyone's mind. Why? Because no matter what laws you pass, if someone wants to do something to harm others, they will find a way to get a weapon--regardless of what kind--and nothing can stop them if they are determined enough to carry out their plan.
Many will not agree with me, but that is the beauty of a free society. And I would not change it for the world. We live in the freest nation on the planet. It is far from perfect but I am thankful to be an American, to have gone through our public higher education system and that I survived to witness some of the most horrendous events and acts of compassion as a result, in our history, but also some of the best.
The parents of slain students want to memorialize their children in the lives they led, full of promise and example. The grief will hit them when they receive the body of their child and it will be the hardest thing they have ever had to face. We need to uphold all of them in prayer. Light a candle and remember them all, including the shooter. His parents are grieving too.
Photo One is by Sam E., Virginia Tech student, courtesy of flickr. Photo Two is by Kevin Cupp, Virginia Tech student, courtesy of flickr.
The following message was received today throughout the Diocese of Oregon [from the Cascade Mountain Range and west to the Oregon coast] regarding our Bishop's reaction and his message to all in our diocese. I share it with you here:
Prayers for Virginia Tech Families and for Our Nation
My Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
During this time of national mourning for the innocent victims of the campus shooting in Virginia, may we reflect upon the words of Psalm 46:
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains be toppled into the depths of the sea;
Though its waters rage and foam and though the mountains tremble at its tumult.
The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her; she shall not be overthrown; God shall help her at the break of day,
Be still, then, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth
The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.
A man is placed upon the steps, a baby cries and high above the church bells start to ring
and as the heaviness the body oh, the heaviness settles in somewhere you can hear a mother sing.
Then it's one foot then the other as you step out onto the road how much weight? how much weight? then it's how long? and how far? and how many times before it's too late?
Calling all angels, calling all angels. Walk me through this one don't leave me alone.
Calling all angels, calling all angels We're cryin' and we're hurtin' and we're not sure why...
And every day you gaze upon the sunset with such love and intensity why it's...it's almost as if if you could crack the code then you'd finally understand what this all means.
But if you could...do you think you would trade it in all the pain and suffering? ah, but then you'd miss the beauty of the light upon this earth and the sweetness of leaving.
Calling all angels, calling all angels walk me through this one don't leave me alone.
Callin' all angels, callin' all angels walk me through this one don't leave me alone.
Callin' all angels callin' all angels we're tryin' we're hopin' we're hurtin' we're lovin' we're cryin' we're callin' 'cause we're not sure how this goes...
Lyrics by Jane Silberry. All Rights Reserved. Photos courtesy of Google Images.
"In the last few years economic turmoil, natural disasters and an ongoing wave of war, conflict and uncertainty have shattered our confidence in the future. Many of us laughed at the end times gurus who thought that the world would end on May 21st but if we are honest, deep within us was an uncertainty about the future that made us wonder if they could be right.
