Why was this perfume not sold and the money given to the poor?

I am not preaching today; we have a guest preacher, Matthew Lukens, who is a seminarian at the Berkeley Divinity School at Yale University and is being sponsored for ordination by St. Paul's. He will be preaching at all three of our Sunday services: 8 am, 10 am and 5:30 pm. If you are in the vicinity, I hope you will come by and hear him. Matthew is a terrific preacher.

A few weeks ago, I was asked to write a reflection for a Lenten booklet of reflections published by my seminary, the Church Divinity School of the Pacific. My reflection appears today. It is based on the gospel lesson for the day, John 12:1-8. Here is my reflection:

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Spikenard

The nard oil that Mary used to anoint Jesus’ body came from the spikenard plant in India. The oil was placed in an alabaster box then transported by caravan across the long flat desert to the markets of Jerusalem.

One pound of nard oil cost 300 denari, the equivalent of nearly one year’s wages for a common laborer.

Spikenard is still costly – a pound now runs about $480. There are many corners of this globe today where that would be one year’s wages. So it is not an unreasonable question Judas asks: “Why was this perfume not sold…and the money given to the poor?”

The gospel writer whispers to us that Judas is a thief and has no intention of spending the money on the poor. But that doesn’t answer the question that has lingered in the air through the ages:

Couldn’t that money be better spent on the poor?

“Leave her alone,” Jesus replies. “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

This fact also lingers in the air: the poor are still with us.

Today, though, Jesus reminds us of another fact: He is with us. He bids us to linger awhile precisely because the poor are with us and we have work to do tomorrow.

When I hear this passage, I think of all of the loving hands of those who have prepared holy places for worship Sunday after Sunday, year after year, century after century.

I think of those who have pressed the linens, and baked the bread, filled the cruets with wine, and arranged the flowers that will soon adorn sacred spaces at Easter. I think of grand cathedrals and simple chapels, and a beach in Central America long ago with friends from CDSP celebrating together our Holy Eucharist with a spark that felt as if it were the first time.

Today, linger awhile. Jesus is filling us with passion and courage – and the strength to feed the poor in body, mind and spirit.

Linger awhile. Be extravagant in your love for the living Christ, and extravagant in your love for each other. Worship fully, pray earnestly, sing loudly, give generously, and share in the bread and wine of our sacred meal as if it were the first time.

Tomorrow there is work to be done.

By James Richardson, Fiat Lux

General Convention: Same-gender rite gets blessing

The Rev. Ruth Meyers, professor from CDSP
presenting A029 to the House of Deputies

Certainly the major news coming out of General Convention, our highest governing body, meeting this week in Indianapolis, is the approval of a single liturgical rite for the blessing of same-gender couples.

The House of Deputies on Tuesday concurred with the House of Bishops in assenting to Resolution A049 that authorizes a "provisional" liturgical ceremony for such couples. 

General Convention meets only every three years, so it is momentous event for the Episcopal Church that, as some deputies put it, represents a "turning point" in this long controversial issue.

The lead story today in Episcopal News Service began this way:

[Episcopal News Service -- Indianapolis] Same-gender couples soon can have their lifelong relationships blessed using a rite approved by General Convention July 10.

You may ask, though, what is new here? The moment felt a bit anti-climatic. Same-sex couples have been blessed in ceremonies by Episcopal priests for at least 30 years, though until recently, not always with the permission of bishops, and often in someone's backyard and not inside a church building. Until recently, they were mostly outlaw blessings.

Three years ago, General Convention allowed bishops to "provide a generous pastoral response" to gay and lesbian couples by allowing blessings. What those blessings would look and sound like was left to the bishops. 

Meanwhile, for the past three years a team at the Church Divinity School of the Pacific in Berkeley, led by the Rev. Dr. Ruth Meyers, embarked on an extensive study of the theological and biblical foundations for blessing same-sex couples. They published an extensive report and a proposed liturgy -- the liturgy, with a few revisions, that was adopted by General Convention this week.

Also meanwhile, in the Diocese of Virginia, Bishop Shannon Johnston asked those of us who wanted to proceed with such blessings to follow an intentional process of discernment with our congregations before going forward. Because there is a plethora of liturgies floating around in the church's ethernet, Bishop Johnston also required us to bring our proposed liturgies to him for approval.

Here at St. Paul's, we spent a year in study, prayer and discernment in the congregation on the topic of blessings, marriage and the history and doctrine of the Church. You can read all of our presentations on a special blog by clicking HERE. 

With the approval of Bishop Johnston, we held our first blessing ceremony of a lesbian couple in April for two longtime members who have lived in a committed partnered relationship for many years. The entire parish was invited, and it was a truly glorious day.

So what is new here from General Convention? And what does it mean?

The immediate impact of General Convention's action is that there will be a single "provisional" liturgical rite for such blessings. Our prayer book has a single rite for marriage, and now there will be a single rite for the blessing of same-sex couples. This represents one more step among many in a long journey rather than a startling tidal shift. 

I suspect that Bishop Johnston will still want to review what we are doing before we do it. 

During the debate at General Convention, there were a number of speakers, both for and against, who equated the rite with marriage ceremonies. It certainly sounds like marriage, looks like marriage, feels like marriage. A number of people who came to our blessing at St. Paul's in April called it a "wedding," though the couple and myself were careful to not call it that. I suspect in years to come such blessings will be called "weddings," but we must also be mindful that the Church -- even the The Episcopal Church -- is not quite there yet.

In a little noticed move a few days ago in the House of Bishops, Bishop Johnston successfully inserted an amendment to A049, the same-sex blessing resolution, that would, in effect, prohibit heterosexual couples from using the same-sex blessing liturgy for their marriage ceremonies. Indeed, some speakers at General Convention said they would have liked the same-sex liturgy at their weddings. With Bishop Johnston's amendment, at least theoretically, that won't happen. His amendment keeps at least some semblance of a wall around the Holy Matrimony liturgy in the prayer book.

The Rev. David Thurlow, of South Carolina,

presents minority report opposing same-gender blessings

In watching the debates this week in the House of Bishops and House of Deputies, I was grateful there was no triumphalism or gloating. The self-righteous tone was gone that has characterized all sides at previous conventions on the topic of gay rights. And that was to the good. I did not hear anyone threaten to leave the Episcopal Church if they did not get there way, probably because those who have threatened to leave in the past have gone.

I must admit that I have come a long way on this issue myself over the years, as have many people. I was not always in favor of same-sex blessings or marriage equality. I've traveled a large distance, and I pray others will, too.

Yet, maybe because I have traveled such a long distance on this topic, I have also struggled to understand what one of my friends terms "the pain of the conservatives." 

Why should including a marginalized persecuted group be painful for the majority? I don't quite get that. 

I was helped immensely yesterday in the debate by the Rev. David Thurlow of South Carolina who gave a respectful minority report explaining why he and others oppose the blessing of same-sex couples:

“For 2,000 years, the church has had clear teaching regarding marriage...We haven’t taken heed of the universal voice of the church universal or the Anglican Communion. This resolution marks a clear and significant departure — theological, doctrinal and in worship — from the doctrine, discipline and worship of Christ as this church has received them.” 

The fear expressed is that by our inclusion, we will as a church have excluded ourselves from the wider Church-writ-large. Our General Convention's action does put us at odds with much of the Anglican Communion, the Roman Catholic Church and much (but not all) of the Protestant world. There will be a reaction, and it will not be pleasant, and there will be people in our church who feel excluded from the larger Church by no action of their own.

And that brings me to a question: How can we include the marginalized without excluding others? Why should inclusion bring exclusion?

My only answer -- the only possible answer I can have -- is to look to Jesus who marches into the tombs to bring everyone out, to free us from fear and death. He included all and invited everyone to his table. No one was kicked out.

"And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations." (Matthew 24:14)

By James Richardson, St. Paul's Memorial Church, Fiat Lux

General Convention: Same-sex blessing rite approved by House of Bishops

House of Bishops Monday
during vote on same-sex blessings.

This afternoon, the House of Bishops voted 111 to 41, with three abstaining, to authorize a liturgy for same-sex blessings. The proposal, A049, moves to the House of Deputies where it enjoys even stronger support. This is the most significant action so far coming out of the once-every-three years General Convention, meeting in Indianapolis.

You can read the Episcopal News Service story HERE. The story also mentions an emotional moment of "personal privilege" by New Hampshire Bishop Gene Robinson in which he asked people to "cut me a little slack... it's been nine long years."

It should be remembered that this measure is a logical step from the resolution approved three years ago to provide a "generous pastoral response" by allowing bishops, if they so wished, to approve same-sex blessings in their diocese and to continue studying the issue church-wide. There was no single rite approved at the time, and that allowed bishops to develop their own. The measure approved by the bishops Monday would bring a uniformity to these rites. As one bishop put it, the measure would end "liturgical anarchy."

The measure would continue to allow bishops, priests and congregations to decline to participate in same-sex blessings.

The debate by the bishops took more than an hour and I listened on the "mediahub" webstream. The debate was respectful.

Bishop Nathan Baxter of Pittsburg said that voting for the measure would take courage by the bishops. "Unless we take certain movement, the conversation will stop."

But other bishops said same-sex blessings will put the Episcopal Church out of step with other provinces of the Anglican Communion and traditional doctrine of Christianity.

Our Diocese of Virginia bishops, Shannon Johnston and Ted Gulick, both voted in favor, as did all of the California bishops (I do have many California readers here).

Monday's development is founded on the work of a team of scholars and theologians at the Church Divinity School of the Pacific who spent the last three years studying the biblical issues and liturgical foundations of same-sex blessings. You can read the full report that was given to General Convention by clicking HERE.

Bricks, stones and prayers

BERKELEY -- I am heading East today. I've been here most of the week for meetings at the Church Divinity School of the Pacific, our seminary in the West serving the entire Episcopal Church and the Pacific Rim.

Last night was the weekly community night when students, faculty, staff and administrators gather to pray, hear the Word of God, and share in the bread and wine of Holy Eucharist. The school is smaller now than it was when I was here in the 1990s. There was something about the gathering last night that reminded me of what the first disciples must have been like.

It was more intimate than when I was here, and these disciples are perhaps closer, and faced with enormous challenges to the seminary itself, they need to be stronger than we were. I am grateful beyond measure for their fortitude.

In the candlelight last night, I also noticed the bricks in the chapel. I always notice the bricks. They are a darker crimson than the bricks in Virginia. They aren't warm like Thomas Jefferson's bricks, rather these bricks give off a serious hue that feels more like an abbey, which I suppose, is what they are meant to feel like. CDSP is a seminary, after all, so that should not be too surprising.

I wonder if bricks absorb prayers? The bricks of our chapel have heard many prayers for many decades. They heard  our prayers last night, they heard the prayers of my class, and they heard many prayers for many years before we were here.

The Morning Prayer reading from today in Genesis 28:10-22 has Jacob resting his read on a rock, and as he sleeps he dreams of how heaven and earth are intimately connected, like a ladder, and he is blessed by God in his dream. When he awakes, he pours oil on the rock and names a city for it. He honors the stone where he laid his head. We are connected, to each other, and to the universe around us. The bricks and the stones know it.

Recounting the ancient mysteries for generations to come

BERKELEY -- I arrived here yesterday for meetings at our seminary for the Pacific Rim and the Western United States, the Church Divinity School of the Pacific, where I graduated in 2000.

I've served on the Alumni Council for a year or so, and it has been a time of fascinating transition.

As you know, The Episcopal Church is undergoing tremendous change as we attempt to understand how to "be church" in the 21st century and beyond. Not surprisingly, the Episcopal seminaries are struggling to keep up with that change while forming leaders for a landscape that is shifting under everyones' feet.

Most of the schools, including CDSP, are facing serious financial challenges, but those challenges are also forcing a fresh view of how education and formation is created for the next generations of lay and clergy leaders.

The Episcopal Church has been always underpinned by an educated clergy and that is one of our bedrock values. That education does not come free, but it is a little like the infrastructure of towns and cities -- it is hidden from view but crucial to the life of the community. If it is neglected, it will decay and eventually collapse.

As it happens, Psalm 78 appointed for this morning has opening stanzas that are apt descriptions of the mission of the seminaries:

Hear my teaching, O my people; *
incline your ears to the words of my mouth.


I will open my mouth in a parable; *
I will declare the mysteries of ancient times.


That which we have heard and known,
and what our forefathers have told us, *
we will not hide from their children.


We will recount to generations to come
the praiseworthy deeds and the power of the LORD, *
and the wonderful works he has done. 

Psalm 78:1-4

Liturgy is not intended to be admired; it is intended to send us forth into the world

Liturgics is one of those esoteric subjects not likely to enter the life of most college students. It is the study, theory and practice of worship, and while some find the topic fascinating, liturgics can be turgid and seem extraordinarily fussy -- unless it is in the hands of a gifted teacher.

The Rev. Dr. Louis Weil was my liturgics professor at the Church Divinity School of the Pacific, and he brought life to the topic. He took liturgy out of the sacristy and brought it back to its original meaning: "the work of the people." In 1979, Louis wrote a ground-breaking book with Charles P. Price of the Virginia Theological Seminary, entitled Liturgy for Living, that remains the most readable (I believe) explanation of why liturgy matters.

Recently, Louis, who is retired, preached a sermon at St. Mark's Episcopal Church in Berkeley that is worth your time. He calls this his "anti-liturgy" sermon, and you will have to read this to know why. The readings were Isaiah 58:1-9a, (9b-12), 1 Corinthians 2:1-12, (13-16) and Matthew 5:13-20. I highly commend this to you:

By The Reverend Louis Weil

Before I moved to Berkeley in the 1980s, I taught at the Episcopal Seminary in Wisconsin. Our principal celebration of the Eucharist was on Thursday evenings: it was a community event, attended not only by the students and faculty, but also families and guests.

One Thursday evening, when I had been the preacher, the Dean commented afterwards that I had preached “my annual anti-liturgy sermon.”

Since I was the Professor of Liturgy, this seemed to be a strange remark – but in fact, he was correct. From time to time in class or in sermons I would speak about a danger which could develop in a community in which the liturgy played such an important role in our daily life, whether it be at a seminary or a parish.

The danger was (and is) that we can get so caught up in the preparation and celebration of the liturgy that it can become an end in itself, that there is a risk of losing a sense of its purpose, a risk of forgetting that the liturgy always points beyond itself, that it embodies priorities which lie outside of the ritual celebration itself.

When I became an Episcopalian during college, I can remember hearing on more than one occasion priests speaking about “our incomparable liturgy.” It is true that as Anglicans we have a rich heritage in our forms of liturgical prayer, in Book of Common Prayer. But what makes me very nervous in that phrase [“our incomparable liturgy”] is that it seems to stop at the liturgy itself, suggesting that we can bask in the beauty of its language and music as a kind of aesthetic experience. But our participation in the liturgy is not the same as listening to great music at a concert. The aesthetic aspect of the liturgy is always intended to serve its greater purpose, to build up – to nourish – the faith of those who have gathered to celebrate the liturgy. In other words, the liturgy is not intended to be admired; it goal is to send us forth to be the Body of Christ in the world.

In our celebrations of the liturgy, we often experience great beauty, for example in its music, and we see its capacity to awaken in us a sense of the Presence of the Holy. In that way, the liturgy can play a significant role in building up the Church in the life of faith, both in a parish community and also in our individual lives. But the work of the liturgy does not stop there. Its purpose points beyond itself.

At the heart of the liturgical action we see its purpose in reminding us: the entire Eucharistic rite is an act of remembrance, both in the proclamation of Scripture and also in the Eucharistic meal at which we hear each time, “Do this in remembrance of me.” We could say that the liturgy reminds us of what God has done, the whole history of salvation, of God’s mighty works from Creation to the present time. This is done through the reading of Scripture which places us who hear it today within the context of the ongoing work of God, and so also relates our individual lives to God’s Presence and grace.

As Christians, we find that Presence of God revealed with particular intensity in the Incarnation of our Lord, in whom we see the Presence of God revealed in a human life. At the center of every Eucharistic Prayer we hear: “remember.” And it is in the power of that remembrance that we go forth to continue our own journey of faith. That is the purpose of the liturgy which we must claim again and again. If the liturgy does not lead us beyond itself into our daily lives, its purpose has failed.

Today our first reading from the Prophet Isaiah shows that this problem has been around for a long time. The prophet quotes the worshipers of his time: “we are doing all of the outward observances: why does God not notice?” One can hear: “we attend the liturgy regularly, isn’t that enough?” And the prophet says, “No, it is not enough.” Isaiah reminds us that the fulfillment of the liturgy is found in what we do in our daily lives: fight against injustice; lift the burdens from those who suffer; help to free those who are oppressed; feed the hungry; give shelter to the homeless; clothe the naked.” This is what our first reading from Isaiah says: did we hear it merely as an item in our bulletin? --- or as an imperative to us in the living out of our faith.

Do this, the prophet says, and “your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly. … Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer.” Isaiah is reminding us and warning us of the danger if we stop at the liturgy itself and fail to move through it into the doing of the imperatives it sets before us. This is echoed for us in the Christian community in the words of Jesus in today’s Gospel reading from Matthew: as with Isaiah’s “your light shall break forth like the dawn,” Jesus says to his followers, “You are the light of the world. … Let your light shine.” That light shines in the lives of those who not only celebrate this act of faith, but seek daily to embody its meaning.

We grieve the loss of a giant in our parish and The Episcopal Church

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness."

2 Timothy 4:6, the epistle for Sunday

Yesterday morning, just before we got started with the 10 am service, I received very sad news: my dear friend and mentor, Charles Perry, had died suddenly the night before. On a trip to North Carolina, he had sat down on his bed and collapsed. He had just finished watching the Giants get into the World Series, and yes, he was a Giants fan.

Charles and his wife Joy had been members of St. Paul's Memorial Church for many years. The announcement of his death was met with gasps at our 10 am service Sunday.

The Very Rev. Charles A. Perry was a giant in the Episcopal Church. He had been the Provost of the Washington National Cathedral and then, after his retirement from that position, became the Dean and President of the Church Divinity School of the Pacific in Berkeley, Calif., the seminary from where I graduated.

Charles had been immersed in every major church issue of the last 40 years. He completed the construction of the Washington National Cathedral and put the cathedral on a firm financial footing. At CDSP he had presided over a difficult era of transition into a more inclusive and wider vision for theological education. Some very good priests came through CDSP in his time.

On a personal note, Charles was instrumental in bringing us to Charlottesville. He was on the rector search committee for St. Paul's, and three years ago sent the parish profile to a mutual friend and asked for a recommendation. My friend recommended me to Charles. One thing led to another, and Charles traveled to Berkeley with members of the search committee to talk with me about St. Paul's. To have Charles Perry come talk with me, to put it mildly, got my attention.

After being called as rector, and once we arrived, he and his wife, Joy, extended to us unstinting hospitality, introducing us to their many friends, and providing much support and friendship. Charles was a wise counselor and mentor, and he let me bend his ear about the challenges of the last two years. We had lunch together regularly, though not regularly enough. Last fall, he and Joy hosted us at their rustic house on "The River" near the Chesapeake Bay. They were supposed to be coming to our house for dinner yesterday evening.

Last January, it was our pleasure to host one of his CDSP graduates for three days at St. Paul's -- the Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, the presiding bishop the Episcopal Church. Among the events was a private luncheon Lori and I hosted for Katharine and our clergy staff. As it turned out, the luncheon came during a blizzard, but somehow Charles and Joy made it. We made sure they were seated with Katharine. The photo above shows Charles, left, with the Rev. Rod Sinclair, right, the next morning before the procession at the 10 am Sunday worship.

There is more that I want say, but for now let suffice that I am deeply grieved and I miss Charles greatly.

As of this writing, plans for his service are not finalized. It is my understanding Charles wished for his memorial service to be at St. Paul's, with interment at the National Cathedral. I will keep you posted here in this space as details emerge.

Please keep Joy and her family in your prayers.

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Update: The memorial service for Charles will be on Sunday Oct. 31 at 3 pm at St. Paul's Memorial Church, Charlottesville. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to any of the following: Westminster Canterbury of the Blue Ridge; The Washington National Cathedral; St. Paul's Memorial Church.

Photo by Bonny Bronson.