Day 5 - Onward into the soggy East

LOUISVILLE, Kentucky - Today's drive was a mixed blessing. We officially entered into the Eastern half of the country at 1:52 pm Central time, crossing the Mississippi River in St. Louis. We celebrated with lunch and and a pale ale at the Schlafly brew pub, a local institution in St. Louis.

We drove through five states today - Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana and Kentucky. Although the scenery was beautiful, we also saw considerable destruction left in the wake of Hurricane/Tropical Storm Ike: flooded roads, swollen rivers, downed trees and miles-upon-miles of destroyed crops. Here in Louisville there are 200,000 residents still without power. Our hotel is across the street from a storm evacuation center, and National Guard trucks are lumbering up and down the street.

We also heard from Lori's brother, Don, who lives in Houston with his daughter, Wendy. Don's house escaped major damage and flooding, but he expects to be without power for a week or two. He considers himself among the luckier in his neighborhood. All of this is all the more ironic for us given the perfect weather we've enjoyed on this trip.

Today's tacky Jesus sign award is a tie between the big green "Jesus" sign near the St. Louis Arch, and a sign near Kansas City that reads "Jesus is our repose." I am still contemplating the meaning of that one.

Tomorrow we will head eastward on I-64, and expect to get to Charlottesville sometime in the evening. We've had a great adventure seeing so much of this amazing country of ours. But we are road weary and ready to reach our new home.

Day 4 - Oz

OVERLAND PARK, Kansas - We drove across Kansas. And drove and drove and drove. 

It took us 12.5 hours to make it from Denver to Overland Park, which is a suburb of Kansas City. We left Denver before dawn (see photo of the dawn overlooking Denver from our friends' mountainside). The hardest driving of the day was making it through commuter traffic to escape the sprawl of Denver. A few hours later and we were crossing Kansas.

They love museums in Kansas, and every town along I-70 tempts the traveler with a museum or "hall of fame." The museums included the National Agricultural Center and Hall of Fame; the Barbed Wire Museum; the Fick Fossil Museum; the Combat Air Museum; the U.S. Cavalry Museum; and of course, The Oz Museum. I was tempted by Oz, but by the time we got to exit 328 in Wamego, it was closed.

The signs along the way are worth spotting, everything from "Jesus is Real!" to "Brown vs. Board of Ed Historic Site." Here's the most puzzling official sign of the day, from the Kansas Dept. of Transportation, and found in numerous places: "Prepass Follow in-cab signals." Any ideas what that means?

See you soon...

Day 4 - "I think we are in Kansas"

SOMEWHERE ON I-70 -- We are stopped at the biggest, most full-service reststop I have ever seen, just across the state line in Kansas headed east on I-70. This rest stop has internet connections, free coffee, maps, artwork for sale, books, oh, and bathrooms.

We are sailing across the gentle-rolling prairie, lush with sunflowers and silos. Tonight's destination, 645 miles from our starting point this morning in Colorado, is Overland Park, Kansas, and our friends Jim and Gail Greenwell. Gail is a seminary classmate and is the brand new rector of a large church in Mission, Ks.  More about that in another post.

I will post photos later tonight. Blessings and safe travels to all...

Day 2 & 3 - Crossing Navajoland and the Rocky Mountains

DENVER -- Our drive on Saturday was spectacular!

We got out of Salt Lake City before dawn and headed south of Provo on I-15 where we picked up I-70 in Salina, Utah, and then headed east another 550 miles. We will be on I-70 until we pick up I-64 in Saint Louis, Mo.

The trip across the Utah desert was amazing, a true feast for the eyes. The mesas are red and purple and sandy, and millions of years of sea bed are exposed. The wind and rain sculpt the mesas into twisted towers and arches. At one of the rest stops we met a group of Navajo artisan women selling pottery and jewelry, and we enjoyed talking with them about how they make their art, and we bought a few items. The Navajo reservation is to the south, but Navajoland extends up into the Utah desert.

The terrain changed dramatically when we entered Colorado, becoming greener as we followed the Colorado River (the same river that ends up in the Grand Canyon in Arizona). We were soon climbing into the Rocky Mountains along the sides of deep river gorges.

The Rockies are stunning, and the peaks are already covered with snow. We are fortunate to make the crossing now and not before more snow makes its appearance. Pullouts for chaining tires are everywhere (and I am carrying our chains). We crossed the highest point on I-70, Vail Pass, elevation 10,603 feet, in the late afternoon.

We are staying with friends, Robert and Ann, at their spectacular home on a mountainside in Morrison, Colorado, and we will relax here on Sunday before we head out on Monday for Kansas City. I hope all of you have a blessed Sunday!

Heading East of Reno -- Day One

SALT LAKE CITY -- We set forth across the great American desert today, driving 647 miles and 11 hours. We crossed our home range, the Sierra Nevada, then descended into the long expanse of desert that is Nevada. At dusk we entered Utah, and drove another two hours to a motel in Salt Lake City. A nearly full moon lit our way. Tomorrow we will head into the Rockies and our destination is Denver.

Driving across Nevada is truly like sailing across a sea. Long, long horizons, with mountain ranges floating like islands above the desert. Ranges go by with names like the Ruby Range and the Bitter Root. The wagon trails are all but obliterated, and we are left to imagine how difficult it was not that long ago for the Western settlers and adventurers to make the crossing. Dry lake beds, filled with borax and salt, still line the highway. And there are wonders aplenty for the eye, from "Jesus Lives" billboards to a caravan of Drumstick ice cream trucks headed we know not where. And along the road: an old desert rat art colony. And every town now looks like a mini-Las Vegas, or maybe just another suburb of Reno.

Here are a few photos, in no particular order, from our adventure today.

Parting shots

The moving van with all our world possessions is on the way. Here's a few parting shots from moving day, empty house and all.

Moving day is here

The Bekins moving van has invaded 12th Street, and the loading is underway. We've filled trash cans to the brim, and our neighbor's trash cans up, too. Mike and Lee are our movers, and they will see us at the other end of the country in about 10 days (after they make stops in San Jose and Fresno to pick up more households destined for the East Coast). This is a bitter-sweet day for us. We've lived in this house 18 years. Ohmygosh, do you know how much STUFF accumulates in 18 years?? As long as everything goes as planned, we will hit the road tomorrow. Onward we plunge...

Packing and packing and packing

We've had a very long day. The packers were here 14 hours, and they packed and packed and packed. Tonight we went to Tom's & Alan's for a late dinner (thanks!). We are camping in our house tonight. Tomorrow Bekins loads the van.

California Here I Come...

...right back where I started from, open up your Golden Gate, California here I come!

Today, dear readers, I head back to California, my native land. I am so looking forward to being re-united with Lori. This is the longest we have ever been apart in our nearly 20 years of marriage. I am also looking forward to touching bases with our dearest ones -- family, friends and neighbors, and those who are alone.

Later this week the moving van arrives to load up our gear. We will set forth across the Great Basin on Friday, and hope to make it to Denver by Sunday, Kansas City by Monday, and back in Charlottesville by Thursday. Oh, and do please come to my "institution" as Rector at St. Paul's, on Sunday Sept. 21 at 3:30 p.m. The Rev. David Poist will be the preacher, and Bishop Peter Lee presiding. Earlier that morning at our regular services, my mentor and friend, the Very Rev. Donald Brown, retired Dean of Trinity Cathedral, Sacramento, will be preaching.

I probably won't be updating this blog on a daily basis. So I hope you will take the opportunity to catch up on a few items, particularly yesterday's entry on worship and the stewardship conference from the day before.

Until meet again, cowabunga dudes!

Changes in our worship today (maybe more than you want to know)

Those of you who were with us at our 10 a.m. service today noticed a few changes in how we did things. I’d like to explain what we did and why, and invite your conversation as we continue to see what works, and what doesn’t.

After our procession and opening hymn, we began today’s service at the Holy Table, with all of the clergy assembled together. You may have noticed that the Table had only candles and books. Think of all this as a meal in two parts, the Liturgy of Word and then the Liturgy of the Eucharist. In the Liturgy of Word – the first part – we gather around the Table to hear the old stories of our ancestors, the story of salvation contained in Holy Scriptures. We are not ready to eat yet until we hear the ancient story of salvation and how we are part of that story. Symbolic of the centrality of the story of salvation is the placement  on the Holy Table of  the book containing the Holy Gospels. The chalices and patens for our meal were elsewhere (more on that in a minute).

The Gospel story of the day was read aloud by the Rev. David McIlhiney, who carried it into the congregation. Another way we symbolize of the centrality of the Gospel is to hear it read aloud in the middle of the congregation. We stand up for the Gospel to show our respect and reverence for the holy book as it is carried and read (this is an echo of the Jewish practice of reverencing the scrolls containing Torah). Also, as the Gospel is carried into the congregation, it is appropriate to turn and face the book from wherever you are standing.

You may have also noticed that the chalices and patens – the vessels we use to serve our Communion – were kept on the High Altar. Partly we did this because the High Altar is well situated to hold these objects. Another reason for keeping them there temporarily is out of respect for the original purpose of the High Altar as a communion table, and in remembrance of all those who have received Communion from the High Altar.

After the Liturgy of the Word (which includes the sermon and the Prayers of the People), we moved into the Liturgy of the Eucharist. The shift in the action was symbolized by our setting the Holy Table for our sacred meal. We moved the chalices and patens from the High Altar to the Holy Table, while at the same time the bread and wine for our Eucharist was brought up the aisle from the congregation. And the Gospel book was removed.

At the end of Communion, we moved all of the used chalices and patens to the sacristy. We cleared the Holy Table, symbolic that our meal was over and that our in the work in the world must begin anew.

I hope you noticed something else fun today! During the passing of the peace, our children marched up the aisle as we sang to them. They gathered around the Holy Table and we gave them a blessing before the children sat with their families. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did – and we will do it every week!

Finally, a few words about the Baptismal Font. You may have noticed there were no flowers in it today. The reason: I believe it is important for us to preserve the integrity of the baptismal font as the central symbol of who we are and the ministry we share together. The historic baptismal font at St. Paul’s is placed centrally in the nave (where people sit), and the location of the font is another symbol of the centrality of baptism to our life of faith and ministry. It is through our baptism that we are all chartered as ministers in the Church (please see our baptismal covenant, Book of Common Prayer p. 299).

Soon, we will put a simple glass bowl in the font containing water blessed by one of our clergy, and we will keep it full of water seven days a week. Some people have asked me, “Isn’t that catholic?”

The answer is, yes, the baptismal font containing water is catholic. The word “catholic” means “universal,” and we affirm each week in our Creed that we believe in “one holy, catholic and apostolic church.” Catholic means we are all bound together regardless of our church brand. Catholicity is not owned by any one denomination. Contrary to popular belief, the Roman Catholic Church does not claim to own the title “catholic” but joins with us and others in sharing the description of "catholic" through baptism.  The central symbol of our catholicity is baptism. To put it another way, our connection with Christ and with all Christians in all places and at all times is through our baptism. The font at St. Paul’s is an enduring symbol of that reality.

If you would like to know more about how the Episcopalians, Lutherans, the United Church of Christ, Methodists, Roman Catholics and other branches of the universal catholic faith have a common understanding of baptism, I highly recommend reading Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry, a lengthy statement hammered out among church leaders in Lima, Peru in 1982 under the auspices of the World Council of Churches (commonly called "the Lima statement"). The statement notes: “Through the gifts of faith, hope and love, baptism has a dynamic which embraces the whole of life…” It is through our baptism that we are one with Christ.

And, finally, the photo on this blog entry is one I took of what is believed to be the oldest baptismal font in the English speaking world – at St. Martin’s Church, Canterbury. The church pre-dates the great Cathedral, and the font is more than 1,000 years old (long before the Reformation and Protestant divisions). The font is centrally located at the entrance to the church, symbolic that we are truly Christ’s own forever!

Giving is the essence of living

Today I went to my first Diocese of Virginia event: the annual stewardship conference. I joined six wonderful and enthusiastic folks from St. Paul's -- we had enough to fill a table. And I am pleased to report I did not have any flat tires on the way home (see blog entry re Vestry retreat).

Bishop Coadjutor Shannon Johnston gave a terrific presentation about his own struggles with giving over the years, and how giving has become central to his spiritual growth. He implored us to see stewardship as something bigger than the annual pledge drive. Giving, he said, is central to our mission as Christians and integral to our spiritual health and well-being.

In the afternoon we were treated to an rousing talk by The Rev. Dan Matthews, the retired rector of Trinity Church, Wall Street (and a much revered CDSP grad!). I've heard Dan speak before, but never so eloquently as he did today in attacking the dominant culture of greed that says we never quite have enough and our self-worth is measured by how much money and possessions we hoard. "We are captured in a culture of scarcity," he said. The central mission of the church is to break through that culture and free people from its chains. Jesus spoke over and over on that theme, far more than he ever mentioned sex.

 

Dan gave us much to think about: He emphasized that stewardship is not really about balancing the church budget but is about how we are called to give beyond ourselves: "People give because they have a need to give, not because the church needs it. Give because you need to give." 

And giving, he pointed out, is the foundational principle to our spiritual health as human beings. "Giving," he said, "is the essence of living." We are at our fullest when we are joyfully giving -- and that is a theme I hope we will be open to exploring more in the weeks ahead.

By the way, I highly recommend you read one of Dan's best talks on this subject (and it includes an anecdote he told today) by clicking: Our Mentality of Scarcity Among God's Abundance. 

Living with eyes open

How about a Mary Oliver poem to wind up the week?

In the Storm

by Mary Oliver

 

Some black ducks

were shrugged up

on the shore.

It was snowing

 

hard, from the east,

and the sea

was in disorder.

Then some sanderlings,

 

five inches long

with beaks like wire,

flew in,

snowflakes on their backs,

 

and settled

in a row

behind the ducks --

whose backs were also

 

covered with snow --

so close

they were all but touching,

they were all but under

 

the roof of the duck's tails,

so the wind, pretty much,

blew over them.

They stayed that way, motionless,

 

for maybe an hour,

then the sanderlings,

each a handful of feathers,

shifted, and were blown away

 

out over the water

which was still raging.

But, somehow,

they came back

 

and again the ducks,

like a feathered hedge,

let them

crouch there, and live.

 

If someone you didn't know

told you this,

as I am telling you this,

would you believe it?

 

Belief isn't always easy.

But this much I have learned --

if not enough else --

to live with my eyes open.

 

I know what everyone wants

is a miracle.

This wasn't a miracle.

Unless, of course, kindness --

 

as now and again

some rare person has suggested --

is a miracle.

As surely it is.

A witness for peace

In the swirl of controversies and conflicts in our own time -- war abroad, division at home -- we do well to remember the witness and sacrifices of those who have gone before. Nearly a century ago, one such witness graced our church just as one of the worst calamities of all time began, the war to end all wars -- World War I.

Episcopal Bishop Paul Jones of Utah stood up to oppose that war, bearing witness to the gospel of peace of Jesus Christ. The reaction against Bishop Jones was intense, and he was forced to resign his seat as a bishop. He continued for many years thereafter working in the church, and died in 1941 as World War II was erupting. Today we remember his feast day. You can read more about Bishop Jones in an article written a few years ago in Witness by my friend Joseph Wakelee-Lynch. And I am proud that I represented my diocese at the 1996 General Convention that voted to honor Jones' life and witness by adding this day to our calendar of saints.

Collect of the Day: Paul Jones, Bishop and Peace Advocate, 1941

Merciful God, you sent your beloved Son to preach peace to those who are far off and to those who are near: Raise up in this and every land witnesses, who, after the example of your servant Paul Jones, will stand firm in proclaiming the Gospel of the Prince of Peace, our Savior Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Tweaks to Fiat Lux

Dear Readers,

I've made a few tweaks to Fiat Lux, which I hope are improvements. First, I've moved all of the poems to a separate page. I will continue posting poems from time to time as I have done on this main page, and then compile them on a separate page. You will see the link to it on the left side of this page under "Poems and other cool stuff" or you can bookmark Poems and Other Cool Stuff. Cool enough?

Next, I've added to the left side of this page the news feed from Ekklesia, a progressive Christian organization out of Great Britain that describes itself as "a think tank that promotes transformative theological ideas in public life."  You will see news stories you may not see in the mainstream U.S. media, and most assuredly with a slant (all U.K. news has a slant), but with a perspective I hope you find interesting, original at times, and thought-provoking. Each time you come onto Fiat Lux, the Ekklesia news feed will have been automatically updated with new headlines. Click on the headlines to find the stories.

And don't forget to check out my list of links on the left side. The Rev Mama has some interesting entries in recent days!

Blessings to all,

Jim

More realism, more holiness

The once-a-decade world-wide Lambeth conference of Anglican bishops has been over a few weeks, and the bishops are filtering back into their dioceses after vacations/holidays. And a few are offering their perspectives with the benefit of rest. Our own Bill Bergen at St. Paul's will be giving a talk on Lambeth after worship services Sept. 14 and 21. Today let me offer the reflections of Alan Wilson, the Bishop of Buckingham in the U.K., whose blog continues to offer both serious reflection and amusing diversion (and the photos are his, all four of them repeated!). Here is what Bishop Alan had to say about Lambeth earlier this week, and it is about more than just distant bishops but what all of us could learn about being the church:

The Learning from Lambeth

OK — now I'm back at work, what is clearer to me as a result of Lambeth?

1. The sheer scale of our communion in global terms. It was immensely moving to meet colleagues from around the world — Zimbabwe, Myanmar, Darfur — and learn directly about the human and gospel dimensions of their lives. Most moving was the experience of being in a huge congregation saying the Lords prayer together in over a hundred languages. Quoting a Tanzanian brother, God’s Word speaks to each of us in our own language as the people we are, where we are. I was often reminded of Max Warren’s saying “It takes a whole world to know Christ.”
   So? Get to know and prioritize time for the world Church
2. The experience of African led Bible studies in community was fantastic. Some of the more academic English felt it wasn’t quite their cup of tea. It was mine. I am ashamed at the comaratively modest amount of time I have spent down the years in teams and groups studying the scriptures personally together. Business always seemed more important. If only I had seen that corporate study of the scriptures was our business, I might have prioritised things rather differently!
   So? Direct, personal, corporate Bible study could be given a greater place in the engine room of our decision making processes.
3. Indaba is a considerable discipline that takes a while to master, but it’s worth it.We are so inculturated into parliamentary methods and tactics, with winners and losers, as the way to make decisions. Indaba is slower, and requires a higher order of listening skills. Imagine, say, the last General Synod, without all the locker room intrigue, hysterics and theatricals. I am still haunted by a Japanese colleague, who had needed continuous translation, thanking the group in broken English for “the beauty of being listened to.” It brings no glory to God that the same would be very improbable feedback from many of our church meetings.
   So? Be more aware about the negative effects of parliamentary processes on people, and work for more patient, open, mutual, emotionally inteligent ways of deciding things together.
4. Rowan’s big Lambeth strategy seemed to be about committing to personal and corporate holiness, and alowing our plans to grow out of that. I have no grand overarching command and control strategy for Bucks. Here’s my strategy: Grace through Faith — strive to become the kind of people God needs us to be, and he will show us, on the ground, what needs doing and, more importantly, how to do it. As we step out, with authenticity, in faith we grow; as we shrink back, our visions get bogged down in fear and trivial pursuits. Therefore, as well as looking outward, centering our team processes in Scripture and being rigorously self-critical of our methods, we will be richly rewarded by God as we prioritise faith over fear, realism over fantasy, personal and spiritual excellence over mediocrity.
   So? We need more Faith, more realism, more holiness!

Poems calling

Gilbert K. Chesterton wrote a book in 1908, titled Orthodoxy, and it has been re-discovered in recent years by a wide-range of authors from Garry Wills to Brian McLaren, which is another way of my saying that Chesterton seems to be popping up all over the place these days. Before you are put off by the title, Chesterton has many surprises, among them that the best theologians may be poets: "The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logian who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits."

So, dear readers, here is a poem to start your week, another gift of my poet friend, Karen, in Tennessee:

Things to Think

by Robert Bly

 

Think in ways you've never thought before.

If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message

Larger than anything you've ever heard,

Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

 

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,

Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose

Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers

A child of your own whom you've never seen.

 

When someone knocks on the door,

Think that he's about

To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,

Or that it's not necessary to work all the time,

Or that it's been decided that if you lie down no one will die.