Dear friends,
I've opened a new blog marking the beginning of this new chapter for us as we travel back to California. Everything on Fiat Lux will remain – but come join me on the new blog. I'm calling it The Open Table at Emmaus. You can read my first post HERE.
– Jim
Fiat Lux
"Let There Be Light" - A place for conversation with the Rector of St. Paul's Memorial Church, 1700 University Avenue, Charlottesville, Virginia, 22903 http://www.stpaulsmemorialchurch.org/
Friday, July 31, 2015
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Jesus will be there before we get there: Go with open hands, an open mind, and an open heart
Dear friends,
Today was my last Sunday at St. Paul's. It has been an emotional day on many levels. I preached and celebrated at all three services. My sermon is below.
I launched this blog, Fiat Lux, seven years ago when we came to St. Paul's. And while I have not posted much recently, this blog has been a major part of my ministry at St. Paul's, particularly in our first years when I posted nearly every day. We even started a few traditions here, like sharing Al Martinez's Christmas story every year.
This is the 1,529th posting on Fiat Lux – and the last.
And so Fiat Lux also comes to an end. I may start a new blog when we get to our new place: The Church of the Incarnation in Santa Rosa. I will let you know here in this space and on Facebook. By the way, this blog won't disappear. You can still go back and read some of my reflections from our time together.
In the meantime, thank you for you for reading, thank you for your many blessings. May God's light shine upon you! Fiat Lux!
Today's gospel lesson: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Today was my last Sunday at St. Paul's. It has been an emotional day on many levels. I preached and celebrated at all three services. My sermon is below.
I launched this blog, Fiat Lux, seven years ago when we came to St. Paul's. And while I have not posted much recently, this blog has been a major part of my ministry at St. Paul's, particularly in our first years when I posted nearly every day. We even started a few traditions here, like sharing Al Martinez's Christmas story every year.
This is the 1,529th posting on Fiat Lux – and the last.
And so Fiat Lux also comes to an end. I may start a new blog when we get to our new place: The Church of the Incarnation in Santa Rosa. I will let you know here in this space and on Facebook. By the way, this blog won't disappear. You can still go back and read some of my reflections from our time together.
In the meantime, thank you for you for reading, thank you for your many blessings. May God's light shine upon you! Fiat Lux!
+ + +
Today's gospel lesson: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
“And wherever he went,
into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and
begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who
touched it were healed.”
Seven years ago, the week before Palm
Sunday, Lori and I made our first trip to Charlottesville. We brought with us a
small palm frond from California to help adorn this wonderful church.
We were hosted by the St. Paul’s search
committee – a group of people who had been working tirelessly to find a new
rector.
After a long travel day flying here
from Northern California, where I have lived most of my life, the search
committee members picked us up at the airport.
They had given each candidate for
rector a code name to maintain the confidentiality our identities. My code name
was “A-5,” and so Lori and I made lapel buttons so they would recognize us at
the airport – mine said “Rev A-5” and Lori’s said “Ms A-5.”
Actually, they knew what we looked like,
so it was a bit of an inside joke. And we didn’t really need our identity
protected. I was the interim rector at All Souls Parish in Berkeley, and my
time there was drawing to a close. The entire parish in Berkeley was in on this,
and the entire parish was holding St. Paul’s in their prayers while we were
visiting here.
Our St. Paul’s hosts took us to dinner
and then to our hotel. The next morning would bring interviews and tours in
earnest, so they gave us a little time to recover from our travels.
When we walked into the hotel room, I
heard music that was familiar to me, but probably not to many of you.
It was the music of the Miwok Indian tribe, and
I have a CD of their music. The Miwok are the indigenous people of Yosemite, which
for me is the most spiritually important place on the planet.
And on the television screen was a video showing
scenes of Yosemite with Miwok music playing in the background.
This may sound odd to you, but I knew
in that moment we were being summoned to go to Charlottesville, to join you in
leading this parish. I knew in that moment I would say yes to this call.
I felt great reassurance in that moment that
Jesus was with us, and would go ahead of us, lighting our path.
I also
knew in that moment that the day would come when we would be summoned to go
back to Northern California.
Today, this moment has come.
Seven years ago, I knew that Jesus would bring
us here, and then to the next place after Charlottesville, and the next place
after that. I had no idea where that would be.
But this I know: Jesus always goes ahead of us.
This is a lesson I have learned over and over,
sometimes the hard way. The lesson is right here in the gospel we hear today:
“And wherever he went,
into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and
begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who
touched it were healed.”
Many years ago, when I was a seminarian, I spent
a long summer undergoing training as chaplain in a big urban hospital. I was
assigned to the intensive care units.
My supervisor was a Methodist pastor,
Lisa Nordlander. On the first day of my assignment, I asked her if I was
supposed to bring anything to the hospital rooms. A prayer book? A Bible? What
tools should I bring?
“Just yourself,” Lisa said.
“Just myself?”
“Just yourself.”
Lisa told me this, and it has never
left me: Jesus would be in the room before I got there and Jesus would be there
after I leave. Go into the room with open hands, an open mind, and an open
heart.
This is a lesson I hope all of us will
hold in the days and months and years ahead.
My friends, this is my last Sunday
sermon with you. I am not going to talk about the past. What has been done, has
been done. What has not been done, has not been done. Let it be.
You will have time enough to look in
the rearview mirror and evaluate what we’ve done well, and not done so well,
over these past seven years.
But that is not for today.
Today I want to urge you to walk into
the future with open hands, an open mind and an open heart.
Jesus goes ahead of all of us. He is
there before we get there and will be there after we leave.
Jesus welcomes us with wide open arms when we
arrive, bids us to linger awhile, and goes ahead of us to the next place.
He will embrace us with love, weep with us when
we hurt, and leap for joy when we laugh. He is, as the New Testament proclaims,
the chief cornerstone who binds us together for all time.
Jesus will be there tomorrow, next week, next
year, and a thousand years from now.
I know it is nearly impossible to think
in thousand-year terms. But try for a moment.
Think of the earliest Christians: Could
they possibly have imagined that 2,000 years later, people would still follow
Jesus? Could those early disciples have possibly imagined this city, this
corner, this university across the street, or this parish?
Can we imagine of who will come after
us 2,000 years from now?
Jesus bids us to go with him into this
future with open hands, open minds and open hearts. He bids us to go, and to
create this next world now. He goes ahead of us, he is already there to show us
the way.
Will we go to where he has led the way?
Author Lauren Winner calls this the “Easter
question.” Will we go to where Jesus is already?
The Easter question is the most important
question facing St. Paul’s.
The most important question for St. Paul’s is
not who will be the next rector, or how to balance the budget, or what social
justice issues to confront in the community, or how to repair the building.
All of these are important questions, but they
are but a flash in time.
The most important question facing St.
Paul’s and all of us is the Easter question:
How will St. Paul’s go with Jesus into
the future, opening the doors, bringing in new people, and sending people to go
to the places of wonder, the places of healing?
How will we go? Timidly or boldly?
Will we keep the doors open and the
lights on? Or will we close the doors, pull up the gates and think of ourselves
as a tiny sanctified social club? Will our response be that we are too busy
doing church things?
Or will our response be: “Here I am,
send me”?
Jesus beckons us to think as big as God’s
abiding grace.
You will soon be going to a place of discernment
as a parish – really, you are always in a place of discernment.
The word “discernment” is perhaps overused these
days. It simply means to be open to the nudging of the Spirit.
Take this time seriously, look for the Spirit
moving in yourself as individuals, and in this congregation. Trust in the
Spirit and trust in each other. Be kind, be gentle, be patient with each other
Let down your guard so that you can hear the
Spirit in each other. And have fun with this. This can be a joyful time if you
let it. This can be the most fun you’ve ever had as a parish.
This congregation is vibrant. You are creative
and caring, and you have many gifts.
Don’t get into the rut of thinking one ministry
is in competition with another.
God brings all the resources we need and the people
with all talents we need. Everything you need in this parish is here already.
God’s abundance is bursting from the walls of this church because God fills each
of you with abundance.
Find your path and go where Jesus leads you as
individuals and as a congregation.
I assure you, the Spirit will lead you if you
have eyes to see and ears to hear.
And know that Jesus goes there before you get
there:
“And wherever he went,
into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and
begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who
touched it were healed.”
By the way, I never found out who put the hotel television
onto the Yosemite channel.
Thank you for your prayers, your support, your
friendship, your patience, your hard work and the many blessings you have
bestowed upon us these seven years. God bless you, now and always.
Go! And Be Bold!
AMEN
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Storms in Charleston and our world: Peace, be still, be calm
Emmaneul AME Church, Charleston, S.C. |
I also talked about General Convention this morning -- we are headed to Salt Lake City today. Here is my sermon from this morning:
+ + +
See now is the
acceptable time;
See now is the day of
our salvation.
Amen.
Jesus and his followers camped along
the shore of the Sea of Galilee. They had been there for days and it was hot
and intense.
He told many parables about seeds and small
things that grew to big things, and how they should let their lights shine that
others may see, and how to listen and see the presence of God all around them
and within them.
He told them over and over, you are loved by
God, you are the beloved; and you must love others as God loves you.
Crowds had gathered to listen.
The crowds had never heard or
experienced anything quite like this. They wanted more.
But evening was at hand, and Jesus was wrung
out. Even the Son of God needs sleep. So he and his followers got in a boat and
began to sail across the lake to look for a quiet place away from the crowds.
As they rowed, the wind rose and sea became
rough. Before long they were in a terrible gale.
And somehow Jesus fell asleep in the
back of the boat.
His followers woke him up – do you not
care our boat is about to be swamped and we might drown? Geez, Jesus, do
something!
Peace. Be still. Be calm.
And so the wind ceased and the sea
became like glass.
Then Jesus spoke: Why are you so afraid?
All will be well, even in the storms. Have a little a faith that God will bring
you through.
So it is that this story itself can be
heard as a parable about the storms of life.
Peace. Be still, be calm, have a little faith.
You will get to the other side.
This past week, we’ve been reminded once again
that our world and our nation are in the midst of many storms.
Terrible conflicts rage in the Middle East,
Central Asia and Africa.
The number of refugees in the world is as high
as it was after World War II: 60 million people fleeing wars and famines, half
of them children. The number of refugees swells by 45,000 a week – about the
same number of people who live in the city of Charlottesville.
Closer to home this past week, we’ve seen yet
another massacre at the hands of a deranged gunman.
This is time it was in a church in Charleston,
South Carolina, at the Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church – the oldest
African American church in the South.
As you know by now, nine precious people in a
Bible study group, including the pastor, were murdered.
Words are not enough this week. Words are just
not enough.
The mental health of the perpetrator and the
easy availability of guns are certainly at issue.
But to talk only about mental illness and guns
is to avoid the elephant in the room of our collective national soul: The
legacy we still carry from slavery, segregation and racism.
The gunman was motivated by white supremacy, and
news reports say he wanted to unleash a race war. His targeting of a black
church was not a random act of violence. This young man did not grow up in a
vacuum. He learned his racial hatred somewhere – and from someone.
Like it or not, we are in this storm together as
a nation and there is no escape.
Jesus,
aren’t you afraid we are perishing?
Peace. Be still, be calm, have a little faith.
You will get to the other side.
There are other forces at work, not just forces
of hatred. Even now, there are people who are surrounding hate with love and
forcing it to surrender.
This parish has its own legacy of hope
and courage in the storms. Decades ago, this parish took a stand against
segregation when it was hardest to do.
In the many years since, the people in this
parish have worked in the community to bring racial reconciliation and hope and
healing.
This parish surrounds hate with love and forces
it to surrender.
Many of you attended a prayer vigil the other
night at Mount Zion First African Baptist Church across town, an African
American church which this parish has had a long relationship with.
This
parish knows how to stand up when it counts. This is one of those times.
And, sometimes,
we need be reminded that we are a part of something larger than this single
parish. This is one of those times.
We part of the Episcopal Church, which is a part
of the Anglican Communion. But we are part of something even larger than that.
We are a part of the Body of Christ – the church
universal for all time and in all places, and that means the church in Charleston
is our church.
The tears of Charleston are the tears of Jesus.
We cannot be disciples of Christ without sharing his tears – and knowing in the
same boat with our brothers and sisters in Charleston.
Yes, we are on stormy seas.
Peace. Be still, be calm. Have a little faith.
Amidst the storms we’ve also seen something else
this week. We’ve seen signs of hope. In a Charleston courtroom, we heard an
outpouring of forgiveness from the families of those who were murdered. Can we
do less as faithful people?
A half-world away, we heard a pope this week
give voice to the collective outcry of the planet that is endangered by climate
change.
And within our own Episcopal Church, we’ve heard
our bishops pledge to engage more fully with the issues of racism, poverty and
justice.
To give one example, Bishop Jim Mathes of San
Diego, who is a friend of mine, said this: “The
next time we recite our baptismal covenant and say the words, ‘to respect the
dignity of every human being,’ race relations and reconciliation are what we
should be thinking about.”
Our diocese in Virginia recently began a
dialogue on race.
This dialogue has been hard starting. It has
felt as though there is an underlying fear about the demons that might be
unleashed like genies from a bottle.
But it is time to face our fears.
If this conversation does not begin with us,
then with who? Reconciliation must begin with us.
It happens that the leaders of the Episcopal
Church will be gathering in the next week for our national General Convention,
held every three years.
I will be boarding an airplane later today bound
for Salt Lake City where General Convention will be held.
I will be representing the Diocese of Virginia
as one of four clergy alternates. This will be my third General Convention.
General Convention is not something we
ordinarily talk about from the pulpit, but I want to do that a bit today.
General Convention is our highest governing authority in our denomination.
It has a language all its own – rather than
“delegates,” we have “deputies.” All of the proposals are to be found in what
is called “the blue book,” though it is no longer blue or a book. You can find
all of it online.
General Convention is a bicameral legislature,
with a House of Deputies that functions like a House of Representatives, and an
upper house, the House of Bishops, which functions like a Senate.
Proposals must pass both houses in identical
form to win passage.
The deputies were chosen by each diocese at
local conventions two years ago. Each of the 110 dioceses elects four clergy
deputies and four lay deputies, and eight alternates. I am an alternate clergy
deputy.
Others from St. Paul’s are also going: Emily
Shelton, one of our UVA students will help represent the Episcopal Peace
Fellowship; and Grace Aheron, one of our youth leaders, will be participating
in several events.
It is easy, too easy, to criticize General
Convention as outmoded or inefficient or too expensive.
But it is worth celebrating that a democratic
legislative body governs our church. We do not have a magisterium handing down
edicts from on high. We elect our leaders.
This will be a momentous General Convention.
This is the end of Presiding Bishop Katharine’s nine-year term, and the bishops
will be electing a new presiding bishop.
They will go behind closed doors and will not
emerge until they reappear with the presiding bishop-elect, who must then be
confirmed by the House of Deputies.
The candidates include Bishop Michael Curry of
the Diocese of North Carolina, who by the way, ordained Pastor Heather a few
years ago.
If elected, Bishop Curry would become the first
African American presiding bishop in our history. There are three other
candidates, imminently qualified and faithful bishops. Please keep all of them
in your prayers. It is a tough job.
Also on deck is a proposal to change the
marriage ceremony to allow for the marriage of two people of the same sex.
A great deal of debate has gone into this, and a
task force has spent many years examining the theology, the biblical passages and
the cultural, legal and social issues. This is not a new topic for our church.
Where this will go, I cannot predict.
General Convention is more than legislation,
much, much more. There will be three times as many people in Salt Lake
attending General Convention as there will be voting deputies and bishops.
General
Convention is a festival, with worship services, workshops, reunions, and
networking to-the-max. I always learn something new and meet new people.
Going on side-by-side with General Convention is
a national youth gathering, and the triennial meeting of the national Episcopal
Church Women.
I’ve always found General Convention fascinating,
uplifting and full of energy.
Please keep in your prayers all of us who are going
to Salt Lake.
Let me close where I began – with the story of
Jesus in the boat quelling the storm.
There is one overriding point to the story that
I hope all of us will keep in mind in the days and months ahead: the Risen
Christ is in charge, not us.
The responsibility falls to us to be the
stewards of this church.
We must be the ones surrounding hatred with love
and forcing hatred to surrender.
And know this to the depths of your soul: the
Risen Christ is here in this boat with us, guiding us, calming the storms,
drying our tears – and will be with us forever. AMEN.
Friday, June 12, 2015
Taking Leave
Dear
St. Paul's Family,
These
past seven years have been an amazing grace-filled experience for Lori and
myself. We have made Charlottesville our home and we love this parish and each
of you. We have experienced many joys – and many trials – together. It is
therefore with mixed emotions that I tell you of my intent to resign as your
Rector and return to the Diocese of Northern California this summer.
I
have been offered the position of “priest-in-charge” of the Church of the
Incarnation in Santa Rosa, a small city in Sonoma County north of San
Francisco. My mother, who just turned 90, lives about an hour away, and most of
my family is in the area. It has become abundantly clear in the last few months
that my family needs us to return, and I could not ignore this invitation by the
people of Santa Rosa to do so.
I
realize that this decision may come as a surprise to some. I had intended to
finish my ministry here at St. Paul’s and retire from this wonderful parish.
But I am reminded once again that my timing might not be the Holy Spirit’s
timing. I was not looking for a new position. However, a few weeks ago I was
approached by the Rt. Rev. Barry Beisner, the bishop of the Diocese of Northern
California, who asked me to consider this position. Barry has been one of my
mentors for more than 20 years, long before he became a bishop. I was ordained
in his diocese and served there as a lay leader and later as a priest for 18
years. After much prayer and conversation, I’ve accepted this offer.
My
last Sunday at St. Paul’s will be July 19. Between now and then, I hope we can
celebrate what we have done together. I will make myself available in the next
few weeks to meet with anyone who feels the need to meet with me for whatever
reason.
St. Paul’s is a very strong and vibrant parish, with
a talented staff, gifted lay leadership, and outstanding clergy. Charles
Lancaster, our senior warden, and Darren Ball, our junior warden, and all the
members of the Vestry, will be working with the staff of the Diocese of
Virginia in this transition. They will develop a plan to appoint an interim
rector and form a search committee. This is a parish of people who know how to
“be bold” and meet the future with grace and courage.
There
is no way that I can thank you adequately enough for the opportunities you have
given me these past seven years. We will cherish your love forever. Finally,
please keep us, and all of the St. Paul’s family, in your prayers.
Blessings,
Jim
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