Duduza dolls for Haiti: Stitchers get out your needles!

Many of you have been generous in so many ways to help the people of Haiti recover from the devastating earthquake. At St. Paul's, we've now contributed more than $24,ooo to Episcopal Relief and Development to assist with purchasing trucks to bring food and supplies into the country. You can learn more about ERD's efforts and make a contribution by clicking HERE.

There is one more way that you can help, and it is catching on big time at St. Paul's: stitching Duduza dolls, or comfort dolls, for children in Haiti. They are simple, beautiful, a easy to make (for those of you who are stitchers).

Jane Rotch, Margaret Haupt and Anne Marshall have been making them at St. Paul's, and we will be sending them to Lauren Stanley, our missioner in Haiti, to get them into the hands of children. You can find the directions for making a doll by clicking HERE.

The photograph at right shows the doll Jane finished a couple of nights ago. Jane wrote me an email about making the dolls, and her is what she told me:

My early experience with knitting a doll showed me that it's much simpler than it appears to be. I did the knitting in an evening (it's only 32 stitches on your needle) and am now working on finishing and stuffing. You can use scraps of leftover yarn, combining bright colors as you please, as long as the face and feet are brown yarn. Dolls can have knitted black hair or a cap, and can be boy or girl (trousers or skirt.)

Thanks Jane!

The health care debate: The Catholic nuns vs. the Catholic bishops

As you know, the health care debate is reaching climactic votes this weekend in the Congress. As you may also know, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops is opposing health care reform unless the bill contains strong anti-abortion provision. The bishops are close to abandoning their long-sought goal of providing universal health care especially for the poorest among us.

However, the bishops are not the only voice of Roman Catholicism. Enter the nuns.

Many years ago, I got to know a courageous nun, Sister Simone Campbell (photo at right), introduced to me through mutual friends. I got to know her when she was the executive director for Jericho in Sacramento, a religiously-based public interest lobbying organization that works on health care issues.

When she got to Sacramento, Sister Simone looked me up and picked my brain about how to work in the Legislature and who-is-who. I happily gave her a crash course.

A few years ago, Sister Simone moved to Washington D.C. where she is now the executive director of Network (read about her and her organization by clicking HERE).

For months, Sister Simone and other nuns have been in the thick of the health care debate. My friend E.J. Dionne wrote about her and the force of the nuns on Thursday in The Washington Post. You can read his column by clicking HERE.

The conflict between the Catholic nuns and the Catholic bishops on this issue is part of a larger conflict that is just beneath the surface. The National Catholic Reporter wrote recently about how the male hierarchy is attempting to muzzle the nuns. The lead: "Bishops have stones in their hands aimed at women religious..." You can read the full story by clicking HERE.

And it should go without saying but I will say it anyway: thanks be to God we have ordained women in the Episcopal Church with full voice and vote in our governance. If you ever had any doubt about what a difference that makes, ask a nun.

The invisible population of Charlottesville

We've been in Charlottesville not quite two years. As a newcomer, and as a westerner, I've been struck by a population that remains largely invisible here: Latino immigrants. They live in apartment buildings behind shopping centers, and in other out-of-the-way neighborhoods.

Many work in poorly-paid service jobs, and with limited English, are often at a disadvantage when confronting the legal, health and education systems, and that can become a cruel spiral leading to deeper poverty and isolation. To put it mildly, there is a serious shortage of translation services in Charlottesville.

The faith communities of Charlottesville want to do something about that. IMPACT, a coalition of 33 congregations including St. Paul's, has made translation services the cornerstone issue for the year. It may seem like a simple issue, but it is crucial to the well-being of this disadvantaged population. On top of that, the cornerstone issue from last year -- early childhood education -- remains on the burner.

This coming Monday evening (March 22), we will gather at 6:30 pm at University Hall to hear proposals for translation services and early childhood education, and hear reaction from public officials. Our strength is in our passion, and our passion shows when we come together in large numbers. So, this Monday evening, if you are in Charlottesville, please drop what you are doing and come. This will be two hours that will change the lives of people who have very little voice in our society.

IMPACT is not the only organization working to better the lives of Latinos in Charlottesville. I've also been privileged to attend meetings of Creciendo Juntos, and you can read more about that by clicking HERE.

Here are details about IMPACT provided by John Frazee, a member of St. Paul's who is the president of IMPACT this year:

IMPACT is a coalition of 33 congregations working together to live out our religious tradition's call for justice in our community. Since 2006, we have worked for long term, meaningful improvement in the lives of all residents of the city and county.
Here are some of our successes:

* We have pushed for, and gotten, increased bus service to under-served neighborhoods. Not to mention service on Sundays, allowing thousands of riders to attend church, go to work, or otherwise lead normal lives on Sunday.

* We have advocated, and increased, the funding for and attention paid to affordable housing for those at the lowest level of income - people who are essential to the workforce of our community, but can't afford to live here, or even nearby.

* We have pressed for, and obtained, increased dental health care for those without means, lightening the burden on our emergency rooms, and improving the health of our entire community.

And this year we are working for:

* A commitment to pre-Kindergarten programs - in these difficult times, we can't neglect our future, and we must truly "leave no child behind."

* A commitment to the creation and implementation of language access plans in the local legal system - the law supports this, the community needs this. Ignoring it, or denying access, degrades the performance of the legal system as a whole.

Please consider joining us on March 22 at 6:30pm at University Hall - and PLEASE SPREAD THE WORD! Let friends, family, and neighbors know about the meeting, and that, in exchange for one evening's worth of time, they will get a stronger, more just future for our community.

Inclusion in the Church: Beyond the arguments

Yesterday we received word that The Rev. Mary Glasspool of Maryland has received the necessary consents of diocesan standing committees and bishops to be ordained a bishop suffragan in the Diocese of Los Angeles. She will become the second openly gay bishop in the Anglican Communion and in our branch of it, the Episcopal Church. There really is no going back.

Before the rhetoric becomes overheated, I think it important to step back and have a look at how far we have come, how we got to this moment, and where we might be going.

On March 4, The Rev. David Norgard, the president of Integrity USA, gave a speech at the Virginia Theological Seminary entitled "The Future of Inclusion." I think this is an important speech, and I am reprinting it in full today because I think he gives a good summation. It is also timely; the House of Bishops convenes tomorrow at Camp Allen, Texas, for its Spring meeting, and at the top of the agenda is a discussion about same-gender relationships.

In his talk, Norgard sketches a highly readable history of the fight over including LGBT people in the Episcopal Church. He notes that his giving such a speech at the Virginia seminary is historic and would not have been possible a few short years ago.

At the conclusion of his speech, Norgard asks provoking questions about the relevance of the Episcopal Church, and evangelism beyond LGBT community; he looks beyond the fights of the last 30 years, and he ends on an optimistic note:

But as I see it, it’s not a matter of acquiescing to a more inclusive future for the sake of those who have been on the outside. It is rather a matter of embracing opportunities that give us all a future as a community – a community of mystery and reason, of determined commitment and unconditional love.

I commend this to you today. It is worth your time to read:

* * *

The Future of Inclusion

By the Rev. David Norgard

Good evening. I want to begin by thanking the Dean for the invitation to be with you this evening. It was a most gracious offer that he made to me to come and speak here at the seminary and I am delighted to be doing just that. I also wish to thank you all for being here. I consider it both a great pleasure and a privilege to share with you my perspective on “The Future of Inclusion in the Episcopal Church.”

As you may be aware, the Dean issued the invitation to me to speak on this topic in my capacity as President of Integrity USA. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with it, Integrity is an organization dedicated to advancing the inclusion of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender persons (LGBT) in the life and ministry of the Episcopal Church. Composed of individual members and parish partners from across the country, it has been engaged in its ministry of advocacy and education for thirty-five years now, ever since being founded by an Episcopal layman from Georgia, Dr. Louie Crew, in 1974.

When Mike Angell, a student here from the Diocese of San Diego and occasional preacher to the President, first contacted me about arranging this visit, he posed a straightforward yet intriguing question: What is the future of inclusion in the Episcopal Church? If I were someone who was prone to pithy answers, I would say “bright” and call for the next question. The very fact of my being here – at the Virginia Theological Seminary – as President of Integrity – provides strong evidence for the soundness of such optimism. There was a time within the living memory of some in this room (myself included), when such an occasion as this would not have been contemplated, let alone realized. This moment we are sharing right now, my friends, is in itself richly symbolic of the long road we have traveled together as Episcopalians over the past four decades. In fact, I believe that it is a directional sign toward where we are headed as a church….as you put it here, “orthodox and open”

I am not prone to pithy answers though, as you can already tell. So I would like to expand on my sunny forecast and give you a full report of the indicators as I read them. Speculating intelligently on the future is always first an exercise in interpreting history, particularly recent history. So let me begin there.

Recent history clearly has been a story of advances toward a more and more inclusive church, with only occasional setbacks. Looking at the issue broadly, we can see this progression a number of ways. For instance, we can observe how the role of women in the church has evolved and expanded. Thirty-five years ago, there were no women in the House of Bishops. Now there are sixteen. Thirty-five years ago, women were still somewhat new to the House of Deputies. Now a woman is President. In a similar vein, we can look at how the Spanish language has entered the life of the domestic Episcopal Church. Four decades ago, to hear Spanish in an Episcopal church was a novelty. Nowadays, many dioceses have at least one congregation where Spanish the primary language. We can look at various demographic trends and, generally speaking, they point to a denomination that is exhibiting more diversity in both its membership and leadership. My particular competence, however, lies in the area of the conscious inclusion of sexual minorities and, on the national level, that particular storyline begins in 1976.

That year General Convention debated a resolution which acknowledged and recognized homosexual persons as [quote] “children of God.” When you stop to think about that for a moment now, in 2010, to some of us it sounds just a little quaint…kind yet presumptuous in that old-guard, true-blue Episcopalian sort of way. That body of mostly churchmen, in all their magnanimity and sagacity, were moved to vote on the question of who was a child of God.

Thankfully – and to the great relief of many whose ontological validity hung in the balance, the vote was in the affirmative. (Don’t some of you feel much better now?!) Soon after that, presumably in the spirit of that declaration, the Bishop of New York, Paul Moore, ordained the first openly lesbian woman to the priesthood, Ellen Barrett, at the Church of the Holy Apostles in Manhattan.

The church at large was not at all amused, however. Mountains of letters of protest were delivered both to the parish rectory and the diocesan chancery, including (sadly) no small number of bodily threats and spiritual curses. Apparently, being a child of God was one thing; being a priest was entirely another. In a notable demonstration of elegant backtracking, another resolution passed at the next convention, declaring the Ordination of “practicing homosexuals” to be “inappropriate” at that time.

Permit me a personal excursus here. Despite the apparently ill-timed nature of my desire or desires (whichever), upon returning from the convention in Denver, I proceeded with my own plan of seeking Ordination and enrolling in seminary. It was a very big step for my home diocese, Minnesota, to sponsor an openly gay man. As a lot, Minnesotans are quite reluctant to be inappropriate; it’s just not in their nature. But the bishop, Robert Anderson, was a man of steadfast conviction and quiet courage. As the local process proceeded and the national debate intensified, he never wavered in his support. I recall one instance that might resonate especially with those here tonight. After receiving my admission application, the dean of the divinity school where I applied called my bishop to express his serious concern. He explained ever so delicately, almost apologetically, that I had listed Integrity – of all things – among my church involvements. The dean discreetly whispered over the phone to the bishop, “He is probably gay;” to which the bishop whispered back, “Actually, I have met his partner, and he is definitely gay…Is there some problem?” There was none for him if there wasn’t any for the bishop, the dean stuttered, leaving the bishop to wonder: Was it his chairmanship of the board or his matter-of-fact approach that had been more persuasive?

Back to the larger saga: For the next dozen years, no convention was without its resolutions about homosexuality. The topic seemed to move from being the love that dare not speak its name to the debate that would never end. Meanwhile, more and more lesbian and gay people, lay and ordained, lived on one side or another of an increasingly sharp and deep divide within the church. On the one side, more than one bishop prohibited any known homosexuals from serving at their cathedral’s Altar, unless they first took a vow of celibacy. At a prominent seminary, openly gay clergy were barred from serving as supervisors of field education. On the other side, another divinity school named a scholarship after Dr. Crew…and several bishops became increasingly vocal about their gay-supportive views, rejecting outright the argument that the church would fall apart if it accepted lesbian and gay people fully. Douglas Theuner, a predecessor of Gene Robinson in New Hampshire, coined the rallying cry of the whole movement. “There can be no unity without justice,” he declared emphatically to the House of Bishops. For years, his quote was displayed on the front cover of every Voice of Integrity magazine. And I dare say that it is still timely and pertinent today on an even larger plane.

By the start of the nineties, more than a decade of debates and studies and hearings and speeches had brought no resolution. They had brought dozens of resolutions actually but no solution to the controversy. So, what was an “Episcopal” church to do when confronted with such vexation? Turn to its bishops was the answer that came to the Phoenix convention in ’91. The theologians among them (“bishops” and “theologians” not being coterminous, you realize) would undertake another extensive study and report back at Indianapolis in ’94. If nothing else, we are a studious church. Just parenthetically, I do wonder about our bishops sometimes. They have studied homosexuality for years and some still claim to be perplexed. It only took me a summer to learn it…but I suppose that is a story for another time.

Back to Indianapolis: The bishop who succeeded Paul Moore of New York, a man by the slightly unfortunate name of Dick Grein, delivered the report to a packed and tense House of Bishops. The report started well enough from the perspective of those hopeful for a breakthrough in LGBT equality. It recognized that gay people existed, that they were in the church, that indeed they were children of God, that they did some good things, and that many of them were actually very nice…lovely, in fact…devoted to partners, devoted to church, great on the Altar Guild, etc., etc…but…But the report concluded, nevertheless, they still should not be ordained and we should not be marrying them either, particularly to each other.

That night everyone felt a pall hang over the entire convention. Liberals were in despair. Conservatives were anxious. What would happen next? It was not at all obvious. Integrity folk worried: Would these unfounded conclusions somehow end up enshrined in canon law? Had the struggles and efforts of so many of us for so long been for naught? As a church, were we about to retrench?

Well, perhaps I should have guessed what was coming, since I happened to know the antagonist so well. The next afternoon, a son of this very seminary, the famous or infamous Bishop of Newark, Jack Spong, stood to a point of personal privilege. Slowly, dramatically, he read what eventually became known as a Statement of Koinonia, i.e. of community. With forceful eloquence, he stated unequivocally that he would ordain whoever was fit and called, homosexual or heterosexual. He took a similar stand with respect to blessing the committed relationships of same-gender couples. Then, with savvy and audacity, he invited his colleagues with courage enough to share his convictions publicly to sign the statement along with him. That evening the special service sponsored by Integrity was overflowing…and so were the tears. By 7:00 o’clock, about five hours later, dozens of other bishops had signed that statement and by late the next day the number had reached 78. There could be no mistake. It was by no means the end of the struggle…but our church had reached a turning point.

Still, skirmishes continued through the rest of the decade. Between General Conventions, the Episcopal Church caught the attention of our nation’s secular media by the novelty of conducting a heresy trial, namely that of the Rt. Rev. Walter Righter for ordaining a gay man named Barry Stopfel. As anachronistic – can I say medieval? – as it appeared to many reporters, several were nonetheless kind enough to note how the Episcopal Church maintained its sensibility throughout the ordeal. The Wall Street Journal, for example, noted that afternoon tea was served to the journalists and from a proper silver service.


The new century and the new millennium arrived…but not the end of the conflict. The story picks up in Minneapolis in 2003. That bastion of radical liberalism, New Hampshire, had the audacity to elect Gene Robinson, a gay man with a partner, as its bishop and, because of the timing; it was up to the General Convention to consent to the election. The line of people rising to speak their mind, pro and con and sometimes both in truly Anglican fashion, stretched all the way to the back of the huge hall. The testimony was variously emotional, logical, political, personal, and theological. Frankly, it was probably also unnecessary. Most people knew how they were going to vote before they ever entered the room. Nevertheless, the debate ran its full allotted time and then the House of Deputies voted. With a majority that was neither vast nor slim, it confirmed the election of the church’s first openly gay bishop in the church of God and the bishops did likewise, with the added dramatic flourish of a score of them abruptly walking out upon announcement of the results. Eventually, Gene tied with Desmond Tutu as the most recognized Anglican bishop in the world. (Sorry, Rowan.)

With the advent of a gay bishop, a reasonable outside observer might have expected the Episcopal Church finally to get on to other business. It had now been debating essentially the same subject for three decades. The Nicene Creed had been produced more quickly. Yet in 2006, at the proverbial eleventh hour, the same Presiding Bishop who had presided at Gene’s consecration pushed through a resolution designed to ensure that what had happened in New Hampshire stayed in New Hampshire. Although couched in sober and pious phrasing such as “exercising restraint,” Resolution BO33 basically called for a moratorium on the consecration of any more gay bishops.

That brings us close to the present moment and to Disneyland, or, I suppose I should say, to the 2009 General Convention in Anaheim, California. The passage of two resolutions by the convention brought the saga that had lasted nearly as long as “Days of our Lives” to its long-awaited conclusion. The resolution finally came.

Resolution #C056, originating from the Diocese of Missouri (whose Standing Committee just consented to the election of Mary Glasspool), moved the Episcopal Church decisively toward recognizing – and solemnizing – same-sex unions. Specifically, it acknowledged the changing legal landscape with respect to marriage and called upon our bishops to provide for generous pastoral response, especially in those places where civil unions of one sort or another are now permitted. Furthermore, it mandated the Standing Liturgical Commission “to collect and develop theological and liturgical resources for the blessing of same-gender relationships” while, it added, “honoring the theological diversity of this Church in regard to matters of human sexuality.” In other words, we recognized that not everyone is happy about the emerging reality but it is what it is and we are moving forward.

The other landmark resolution, #D025, unequivocally affirmed that God has called and may call LGBT individuals to any ordained ministry in the Episcopal Church. In other words, the de facto moratorium of 2006 on gay and lesbian bishops was lifted and what was characterized as “inappropriate” and untimely back in 1979 was at last found to be entirely appropriate and indeed timely.

That brings us to 2010, to the present day, which is by definition of course, the threshold of the future. Looking across the ecclesiastical landscape now from the perspective of the history I have just recounted, I believe the direction that this church is headed is clear. Collectively, we are now moving in the direction of transforming the legislative victories attained at the national level into living realities at the diocesan and congregational levels. We have decided, finally and unabashedly, in favor of being the kind of faith community in which lesbian and gay people are truly part of the family. We have become a “Modern Family,” to borrow another TV show title, and Mother Church, if you will, has come out. She has come out as a “P-FLAGer.” As an individual Episcopalian and as President of Integrity, my outlook is both hopeful and optimistic because once you have come out of the closet, friends, it really is not all that easy to go back in.

Having said that, I hasten to add that, as it is with the stock market, so it is in politics: Past performance is no guarantee of future results. Even the freshman student of history knows that human progress is not inexorably linear. History is littered, in fact, with examples of progress not merely coming to a halt but taking a violent u-turn. The “war to end all wars,” World War I was followed by World War II. In China, the move toward a free market was followed by the brutal clampdown of free expression in Tiananmen Square.

Nevertheless, there are multiple sound reasons for optimism. Let me cite just a few. Just recently, the Attorney General of Maryland announced his official opinion that his state should recognize same-sex unions performed elsewhere. The nearby District of Columbia, of course, just became the latest civil jurisdiction to allow such unions and even though the city has long been regarded as a bastion of liberalism (like New Hampshire), the symbolic value of the nation’s capital city doing so is potent. Likewise with Iowa: Today, in the Midwestern heartland, same-gender marriage is the law of the land and a fact of life. Looking northward from here, the Bishop of Massachusetts, Tom Shaw, has granted his clergy permission to perform marriages for same-sex couples in the churches of that diocese, C056 being his justification. And across the country in my new home diocese of Los Angeles, the convention elected the Rev. Canon Mary Glasspool, a partnered lesbian, to serve as one of its two bishops suffragan. As of yesterday, 55 of 56 required Standing Committee consents have been received and her consecration is tentatively scheduled for May 15th.

Why all this movement in a forward direction? Fundamentally, I believe it is because nearly everyone today knows someone who is dear to them and lesbian or gay: a brother, sister, son, daughter, father, mother, neighbor, teacher, student, judge on “American Idol.” This increasing familiarity has brought contempt some places, to be sure, but mostly, to know us has been to love us.

My primary ministry these days is as an organizational development consultant to churches and nonprofits. In that work, I spend a fair amount of time helping leaders articulate mission and vision statements for their organizations and communities. A vision statement is essentially an articulation of what you want to be true when you have succeeded in your mission. It implies a commitment to do whatever is possible toward making that preferred future the reality. If I were to draft the de facto vision statement of the Episcopal Church, it might read, in part, something like this: “The community and its leadership are diverse in age, gender, race, culture, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and familial constellations. This fact is a great blessing and is nurtured in the way we live together.” If this phrasing sounds familiar to you, it should be. I adapted it from the student body section of the VTS website.

As with any great cultural shift, this one will too will continue to meet resistance. A review of the national church’s website illustrates the point. There is an extensive section on diversity that includes a, b, c, d, x, y, and z…but not l, g, b, or t. Thinking historically again, just consider the Ordination of women or the adoption of the current Book of Common Prayer. Years after the formal actions were taken at General Convention moving the church forward on these matters, battles still raged on. Every great struggle, it seems, is defined by and motivated in part by the resistance with which it must continue to contend. And in this vein, I see the struggle for a diverse faith community as no exception to that historical rule. Three challenges in particular are possible and substantial enough to merit specific mention.

First is the desire for a scapegoat, a common temptation in community life. Whenever some crisis occurs or some unforeseen disaster descends upon the scene, it can seem expedient or advantageous to cast blame upon a vulnerable target. Jerry Falwell blamed AIDS on gay men, for instance. Never mind HIV. The only necessary ingredients for combustion are some inflammable scandal or incendiary economic friction coupled with invidious rhetoric.

Another viable force of resistance to a diverse church is the temptation of political expediency. It is well within the realm of possibility that the Episcopal Church might persuade itself to do the wrong thing (in my view) for the right reason. For instance, it is not implausible to imagine a scenario in which our church moves toward a recognition of global interdependence and, in the process, negotiates away aspects of its own identity or polity.

The third challenge I would name is perhaps the most worrisome of all because it pertains to our very viability as a community. I speak of the challenge of our own apparent irrelevance in the sight of the world around us. What if we Episcopalians finally do invite all the gays and lesbians in our neighborhood to our party…and they don’t to show up? What if what we have to offer is just not seen as being all that appealing? I do wonder: Have we fought for two generations to be included in a community that our younger gay brothers and lesbian sisters will simply regard as unimportant?

This question, it seems to me, leads to an even larger one: In an increasingly complicated world…one in which individuals are at once bowling alone and inextricably interdependent…one in which many doubt the primacy of any one theological narrative just as others defend their one true faith ever more militantly…one in which the strongest trend is identifying as “spiritual” and not “religious”…in such a world as this, is what we have to offer sufficiently authentic and compelling to appeal to those we would welcome?

I would like to offer two suggestions before I close. First, I believe we are perhaps uniquely positioned as a Christian denomination to offer to the spiritual seeker a community where a sense of mystery in life goes hand-in-hand with a respect for reason in the life of faith. As a communion, historically we have welcomed honest inquiry. To borrow words from the VTS website again, “our church, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, has been open to new truths discovered by reason and experience.” At the same time, it is a church that has generally also been open to the ineffable, especially through experience of the aesthetic. In short, we are equally comfortable with answers and questions, with art and science. In my personal experience, this perspective on the world resonates with individuals who identify as belonging to a sexual minority. It does so because, in a culture where gender roles are still defined by straight lines, they are outliers on the spectrum of conventional understandings of social reality.

Secondly, I believe we are necessarily yet nonetheless sincerely at last beginning to see ourselves not first and foremost as an institution to which people, if they have enough sense, will just join naturally. In our most vital congregations anyway, I see evidence of a very different self-understanding. Instead of institutions bound by law and dedicated to self-perpetuation, they see themselves as communities bound by love and dedicated to purposes beyond themselves. This also resonates with LGBT persons in my experience for it mirrors the story of LGBT families and communities. No social conventions have brought us together, let me assure you. It has been nothing other than the soulful desire to belong to a family of choice and a community of choice that allows us not only to be ourselves but also to be there for the other.

If we continue along these lines, I believe there is hope not just for the future of inclusion but for the future of our church over all. We will be a community whose appeal to all sorts and conditions of folk is neither a passing fad nor an artifice of political strategy but rather the natural further expression of a catholicity that stretches all the way back to the coming together of Jew and Greek.

Friends, in the first few years after the advent of the Ordination of women, I recall a question arising frequently in conversation: Do you believe in women’s Ordination? It was almost like out of the Baptismal Covenant. Whether it was intended to elicit an affirmation or a renunciation, you couldn’t always be sure. In either case, the most memorable response I ever heard came from a very sincere if somewhat naïve man who said, “Do I believe in them? I have seen them!”

As openly gay and lesbian people become a common and unremarkable aspect of the cultural landscape, I do believe that more bishops will ordain LGBT persons, more vestries will elect them to serve as rectors, more congregations will elect them to vestries, and most importantly of course, Altar Guilds won’t wince at the need to set up a wedding for two grooms or two brides. We are past the turning point. We have crossed the tipping point and the forecast is bright.

There will be resistance. The impulse to respond eagerly and faithfully to the emerging realities of each succeeding age is always met with the opposing impulse to preserve and hold fast to what has been familiar and comfortable. But as I see it, it’s not a matter of acquiescing to a more inclusive future for the sake of those who have been on the outside. It is rather a matter of embracing opportunities that give us all a future as a community – a community of mystery and reason, of determined commitment and unconditional love.

Thank you for your kind attention this evening and your willingness to reflect on these intriguing questions together. I dearly appreciate your hospitality and your openness to this conversation. I invite all of you – lay and ordained, straight and not-so-much, to walk with Integrity in your ministries going forward. It is, after all, by walking with integrity (small “I”) that we have arrived at the threshold of the future we behold, one that is bright precisely because it is blessed with a veritable rainbow of color.

The real Saint Patrick

Today is the Feast of Saint Patrick, Bishop and Missionary to Ireland, 390-461. Parades for the Irish will fill the streets in many cities, tonight many an elbow will be hoisted in his honor, and once upon a time the California State Capitol was lit green (anyone know if they still do that?).

A few churches today will be singing "Saint Patrick's Breastplate," binding themselves unto thee (never mind that he didn't write it), and the legends of Patrick with snakes and shamrocks will be told and embellished once again.

It is all good fun and a great break from the dreariness of Lent. But today I'd like you to also pause and consider the real Patrick and what little we know of him. Patrick is more of an Abraham figure. Born in England, kidnapped to Ireland as a boy, he was a shepherd. He somehow made it back to England as a teenager, and had a conversion experience and took holy orders, becoming a bishop.

Patrick went back to Ireland, where he converted people and their kings to Christianity. He adapted the popular religious customs of the day to Christianity, for example the now-popular Celtic crosses were an adaptation of elaborate Druid markers dotting the countryside.

Though Patrick is the saint of Ireland, he was truly a sojourner in a strange land. He traveled far from home to spread the Gospel, he was doubtless homesick at times, but he went anyway (and I know the feeling well).

Patrick left a few letters and from them it is known that the Irish viewed him as a foreigner (how ironic is that?), and he riled the Irish aristocracy by refusing to accept their gifts. He probably lived more like Saint Francis than as a regal bishop. Much of what we celebrate today in our Celtic Christian tradition we owe to Patrick, and his life and example are truly worth celebrating even without the extra blarney.

Time and freedom

Barbara Crafton maintains a website called The Geranium Farm (click HERE). She is a prolific writer, and she sends an email nearly every day with a reflection. This one came last week, and I am still pondering it. Take your time with this, all the time you need. It is about time.

FLYING INTO YESTERDAY
By Barbara Crafton

Perhaps it's getting to the airport that makes travel tiring. Certainly sitting on a plane while someone else flies it isn't taxing -- at least, it shouldn't be. But flying halfway across the country wears me out. And so does flying for an hour or less. No reason for it, but there it is.

I am wondering it it is the unnaturalness of such speedy traversing of the earth's surface that does this. Maybe we're just not supposed to move so fast. Travel somewhere by sea, and the time zones yield to one another gradually -- you don't arrive somewhere at an earlier hour than the one at which you left home. But you can travel far and fast enough enough from certain places to certain other places to arrive at your destination the day before you set out for it. Maybe that's just not meant to be.

Or maybe it is. I believe that time is an earthly thing. God doesn't have it -- or, rather, God holds time, but is not held by it, as we are. For us, its grip is iron. None of us escape its passing, and the passing of time feels sad to us more often than it feels glad. We mark the passing time time by the things it has taken from us: "Oh, that must have been before my mother died," we say, and we accumulate a wistful string of such markers, more and more of them as life goes on.

It is not so with God. All moments are now in the kingdom of heaven, where all are in Christ and Christ is all in all. All, as in everything: everyone, every time, every place. Everything. You and me: all we are and ever were and ever shall be.

It always surprises me that more people don't grasp what good news this is for us. It's more than an interesting mathmatical puzzle: it's eternal life. We're not trapped here, bleakly and endlessly counting our mounting losses. We -- and they-- are folded into God's now, and this is true right now. That moment you wish you could have again still exists. And so does the one you haven't had yet, the hidden one for which you wait. So do all our yesterdays, and all our tomorrows.

Our current experience is otherwise, of course, except in the odd dream, the mystical moment, the times we spend in "the zone," when we look at the clock in disbelief at how quickly an hour has passed. Mostly what we feel is our bondage to time, not our freedom from it.

But it is the freedom that will last. Not our captivity.

Painting of geraniums by Catherine "Katina" Pastis Radwanski

The Monday Funnies

It is Saint Patty's Day coming up this week, so we of course must have an Irish joke. And a few more jokes after that. Thanks to Pat Hill, as always, for sending jokes, and Lloyd Snook for passing along this cartoon. Enjoy your Monday Funnies...

* * *

Two Irishmen were sitting a pub having beer and watching the brothel across the street. They saw a Baptist minister walk into the brothel, and one of them said, "Aye, 'tis a shame to see a man of the cloth goin' bad."

Then they saw a rabbi enter the brothel, and the other Irishman said, "Aye, 'tis a shame to see that the Jews are fallin' victim to temptation."

Then they saw a Catholic priest enter the brothel, and one of the Irishmen said, "What a terrible pity, one of the poor lasses must be gravely ill."

* * *

Johnny's Mother looked out the window and noticed him "playing church" with their cat. He had the cat sitting quietly and he was preaching to it. She smiled and went about her work.

A while later she heard loud meowing and hissing and ran back to the open window to see Johnny baptizing the cat in a tub of water. She called out, "Johnny, stop that! The cat is afraid of water!"

Johnny looked up at her and said, "He should have thought about that before he joined my church."

* * *

Ways To Know You Are In The Wrong Church:

- The staff consists of Senior Pastor, Associate Pastor, and Socio-Pastor.

- They have ATM machines in the lobby.

- No cover charge, but communion is a two drink minimum.

- Services are B.Y.O.S. (Bring Your Own Snakes)

- They have karaoke worship time.

- The guy that takes the minutes in business meeting votes against everything because he can't spell "unanimous".

- The only song the church organist knows is Inna-Gadda-Da-Vida.

- The church bus has gun racks.

- The Bible they use is the "Dr. Seuss" version.

- The choir wears leather robes.

- When you go in, the usher asks you, "Do you want smoking or non-smoking?"

The parable of the lost sons and the limitless father

Today's sermon for the 8 am worship (Bishop Shannon Johnston will be with us for the 10 am service) is based on Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32.

* * *

I’d like to ask you a question: Who are you in this story of the “Lost Son” we hear today? Are you the younger son or the older son? Are you the father? Or one of the bystanders?

Who do you want to be in the story?

Jesus taught in stories, or parables. This is a very Jewish way of teaching; Jewish parables are intentionally open-ended – they are meant to provoke, prod, push. Parables do not yield easy answers.

And so it is with this story that is misnamed “The Prodigal Son.” I call it “misnamed,” because who is the parable really about?

Consider the Younger Son: he demands from his father his share of his father’s property. This was not unusual; younger sons were entitled take their inheritance and leave. That is not the sin. Doing so could bring honor to the family and the father.

But in this case the son squanders everything, and he sinks so low he is tempted to eat the food of pigs. He is in the desert, in the wilderness.

The younger son has brought dishonor on his father, his family, and he is about to be a non-person.

Have you ever felt lost, alone, unsure, like this lost son?

I can remember a time when I felt lost; a relationship had ended, and I worked too hard at my job. And I was very self-absorbed and very lost.

In the parable, do you notice what the younger son does? He realizes that even his father’s servants are better off than he is. He decides to return home. He decides he will ask for forgiveness and be a servant to his father.

So he heads for home, and I am sure is afraid and he is unsure how this will come out. He goes anyway, despite his fears.

Now, consider his older brother: The older son has done everything right. He has followed the rules, done his duty. He has worked hard, brought honor to his family and to his father. And now his deadbeat younger brother shows up, and dad is throwing him a party. The gall!

In fact, the party is already in full swing when the older son hears the music and sees the dancing. He is really ticked, and not without good reason.

Have you ever felt like the older son? You followed the rules, did everything right, and someone else got the break. It wasn’t fair.

Long ago, I dwelled on this kind of hurt. I called friends at odd hours of the night – I wore out many friendships.

Do you notice something about the older son? He has no joy, no life. He is caught up in the slights.

The older son is lost too, maybe more lost than the younger son, because the older son doesn’t yet see how lost he is. He is physically home but mentally and spiritually he is far, far from home.

Have you ever been like that, letting the resentment about someone or something rent space in your brain for free?

Now, consider the Father: What does he do?

The younger son decides to go home to ask forgiveness; but before he gets a chance to ask, the father sees him from “still a long way off” and runs to embrace him. The father is filled with compassion. Fathers in the ancient world never run to embrace anyone. Fathers wait to be courted, to be flattered, for their sons to bow-and-scrape at their feet.

Not this father – he is filled with compassion and runs to embrace his errant younger son.The father forgives the younger son before he ever asks. The younger son doesn’t even get the words out of his mouth before he is forgiven.

The younger even tries offer to become a servant, but the father interrupts him – it isn’t necessary, he tells him. You have returned home, you were dead and now alive – let’s throw a party.

And consider again the older son: the resentful son. The older son, relishing his wounds, complains to the father.

And what does the father do? Invites the older son to the party.

The father tells him everything is already his, it is right here in front of him – all of it. Forgiveness and abundance already belong to the older son before he ever asks.

The story doesn’t really tell us what happens to the older son – that is the open-endedness of the parable. Does the older son suddenly see it? Or does he remain lost, resentful? Can he finally join the party?

We don’t know.

But the father keeps the door open for the older son; everything will be there for him whether he deserves it or not.

This parable should really be called “The story of the father’s extravagant, radical love” because it is really about the limitless generosity of God that, through the eyes of humans, seems completely impossible, even outrageous.

This parable is about God throwing us a party, and all we need to do is show up. The party is always there waiting for us.

Do you notice something else about the father? The only authority the father claims is the authority of love, the authority of compassion. He casts away all pretense of being regal. He gives his errant younger son a king’s robe.

This father’s judgment is the judgment of love.

God’s justice is not like human justice, it is about love and forgiveness and keeping the doors of love open no matter how hard that may be. The father never gives up. The father waits to bless us.

So, I ask again, who are you in the story? Who do you want to be in the story?

And can you be like the father? Can you be the one who is not only forgiven, but someone who can forgive?

Can you not only be blessed, but bring blessings to those who least deserve it?

Can you not only return home but also welcome others home? Can you and I live our lives even a little bit like the father, even some of the time?

I believe that is what Jesus is inviting us to do just that – Jesus invites us not only to join the party, but also to throw a party for the world and invite everyone in. AMEN

Art work: At top, "The Prodigal Son," 1967, collage of mixed media by Romare Bearden (1911-1988); At bottom, "The Return of the Prodigal Son," 1662, oil on canvas, Rembrandt vin Rijin (1606-1669).

A day working for the planet

Friday is our sabbath, so we decided to do something different and, we hope, useful. Lori and I volunteered to work at the Charlottesville Habitat for Humanity store for the day. If you haven't been there, go.

The store has everything from kitchen sinks to baseboards, from washing machines to windows, doors, bathtubs, brand new flooring, building supplies, and all manner of furniture. Everything is a bargain, and every sale benefits Habitat for Humanity.

And for the next three months, 5 percent of the sales will go to Habitat's rebuilding effort in Haiti. The rest of the sale proceeds goes to help Habitat build houses for low-income people.

One of our parishioners, Buck Smith, is the store manager in Charlottesville. He does everything from scheduling and paperwork, to dismantling ceiling fans and carting bathroom cabinets out the door and into customer's vans.

As for me, I cleaned a lot of things. I was much content working with my hands, unloading a truck and dusting everything I could find in the store that needed dusting.

My adventure for the day was going on a pickup with Larry, who has been working for Habitat for many years. We picked up a donated washing machine, loaded it into a truck, and lumbered our way back to the Habitat store.

Back at the store, Lori was inputting donation data into a computer. I cleaned up the washing machine. My other project for the day was to scrub tape off a sign so it can be re-lettered and reused.

One of the principles of Habitat for Humanity is recycling -- everything is reused and reused and reused again. As little as possible ends up in a landfill.

There are Habitat for Humanity stores all over the country. You do the planet and people a favor by shopping at one. While at the store in Charlottesville, pick up an ice shovel -- they are on sale.

Applause for our governor Robert McDonnell

Today I want to provide a follow up to my post of two days ago concerning the shameful legal opinion issued by new Virginia Attorney General Kenneth Cuccinelli II. In that opinion, Cuccinelli maintained that that schools and universities should revoke non-discrimination policies protecting gay people. He argued that Virginia law did not allow for such protections.

The new governor of Virginia, Robert F. McDonnell, (photo at right), issued his own directive, pointing out that public schools and universities answer to the governor, and not to the state attorney general. McConnell, who like Cuccinelli, is also a Republican, was Virginia's previous attorney general.

In his slap-down of his successor, McDonnell issued an executive order mandating that non-discrimination protections for gay people fall within the meaning of the 14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution and therefore trump the flawed Virginia statute cited by Cuccinelli that excludes gay people. McDonnell's executive order stated:

The Equal Protection Clause of the United States Constitution prohibits discrimination without a rational basis against any class of persons. Discrimination based on factors such as one’s sexual orientation or parental status violates the Equal Protection Clause of the United States Constitution. Therefore, discrimination against enumerated classes of persons set forth in the Virginia Human Rights Act or discrimination against any class of persons without a rational basis is prohibited.

Consistent with state and federal law, and the Virginia and United States Constitutions, I hereby direct that the hiring, promotion, compensation, treatment, discipline, and termination of state employees shall be based on an individual’s job qualifications, merit and performance.

To read the full text of McDonnell's executive order, click HERE.

Two days ago I sharply criticized Cuccinelli. Today I applaud our governor for his swift, courageous and forthright action.

Meanwhile, John Casteen, the president of the University of Virginia, wrote a letter to the University community underlining his support for the governor's action and reiterating that the protections for gay people at the University remain in full force.

This directive's eloquence and clarity set it apart from many policy statements that come from all sorts of sources. Perhaps needless to say, I am personally grateful to the Governor for it. This had become an uncommonly troubling issue, one that cuts to the core of our common claims to the most fundamental kinds of personal security under the rule of law. Discussion will undoubtedly continue, as it should in a free society that thrives on open discourse. But as rightly alarmed as many of us and I myself were by last week's Attorney General's letter, I was struck through the week by the wisdom and dignity of the discussion that occurred. Let us hope that the subsequent discussion will rise to the level of the model struck in the directive.

To read the full text of Casteen's letter, click HERE.

This may seem like a great deal of angst and heated effort which, in the end, leaves us with the status quo. That is partly true. But this episode is a reminder that the attorney general, the chief law enforcement officer of this state, has no regard for protecting the rights of gay people to earn a living and get an education. Forgive me if my guard remains up. This is no time to be complacent about protecting the rights of all people to live as God created them.

Same-sex blessings: Where are we?

The issues of inclusion of gay and lesbian people are at the forefront this week in several spheres, including in The Episcopal Church. Under lively discussion this week in my parish, and generally in the Diocese of Virginia, is a resolution approved recently by Diocesan Council (or convention) a few weeks ago calling up Bishop Shannon Johnston to impanel a study group on same-sex blessings.

The diocese resolution is in response to last summer's national General Convention which called for a "generous pastoral response" by the bishops to allow for such blessings in those places where it is needed. Many in the LGBT community are interpreting the recent Virginia resolution as, essentially, a call upon our bishop to go slow before allowing any such blessings in his diocese.

The issue is timely for us at St. Paul's because Bishop Shannon Johnston will be with us on Sunday. I think it is important that before he arrives we understand the issue, and the nuances of church governance that underly the issue. I want to share with you some background that I have given our Vestry and leaders in our Gay Straight Concerns Group and the Charlottesville chapter of Integrity.

First, to read the national resolution (C056) approved by General Convention, click HERE.

To read the Virginia resolution, click HERE.

Here is what I have shared with the Vestry:

This is complicated because the national resolution (C056) provides that bishops may provide a "generous pastoral response" for same-sex blessings at their individual discretion. That means all of the authority on this is in the hands of the bishop, and not in the hands of a Diocese Council or an individual parish or its priests.

Indeed, this is consistent with the practice of marriage rites. The parish and its Vestry has no authority to require its clergy to preside at a marriage rite, or to order its clergy to refrain from presiding at a marriage rite. The bishop has limited authority over his priests on this. The bishop could direct me to not perform a wedding, but he could not order me to preside at a wedding. Presumably, the same principle would hold true for a same-sex blessing. When I preside at a wedding, canon law provides that I seek the bishop's written permission in certain cases (divorced people primarily).

My ordination vows include that I will follow the "pastoral direction" of my bishop, and same-sex blessings certainly fall in that category. So even if the Vestry wanted me to preside at a same-sex blessing, I am not really free to do so without the permission of the bishop (I suppose I could ignore or defy the bishop, but let's call that for what it is).

I would also argue that the Virginia Council has no authority on this topic, and that its recent diocesan resolution is only a recommendation to the bishop; a close reading of that resolution shows that it is, indeed, phrased as a non-binding resolution. Only the bishop can act on the recommendation contained in the resolution, and he also could ignore it or modify it. It is my hope that he will impanel a study group, and in the meantime, that he will allow those of us who are willing to preside at same-sex blessings to do so with his permission and support.

Let me also mention that I have had at least three conversations with our bishop on this topic, including at General Convention in July on the day he voted for C056, and he has been consistent in saying that his intention is to allow priests who are willing to preside at same-sex blessings. He has also said that he wants to work out a consistent liturgy with those clergy who are willing. I should also mention that several dioceses have impaneled tasks forces on this topic, and are moving forward. There is already a body of resources to work with on this.

Finally, I think it is important that we engage in a conversation with Bishop Shannon about this when he is here Sunday, and I trust that it will be respectful and fruitful.

Virginia attorney general's opinion not justice

I do not want the week to slip by without expressing my strong dismay and deep disappointment at the legal opinion by Kenneth T. Cuccinelli II, Virginia's new attorney general, claiming that schools and universities have overstepped their bounds by enacting non-discrimination protections for gays and lesbians. To read the attorney general's opinion, click HERE.

I am not in a position to critique his legal analysis. He may well be correct that Virginia law does not allow the education system to extend legal protections to gay people. If so, that is a critique on Virginia and its political leaders. You do not have to favor gay marriage to understand that people should have the right to earn a living and live as who God created them to be. That is the underpinning of our justice system, and here in the land of Thomas Jefferson, that ought to be the principle that guides our lawmakers and attorney general.

Sadly, that is not the case today.

It is disturbing that Cuccinelli's opinion is among his first official acts as attorney general. Cuccinelli was sworn into office January 16, and either there was little else demanding his time, or stripping away legal protections for gay people was a high priority for him. In either case, I find that shameful, and his action is a throw-back to the Anita Bryant political pandering and bigotry of the 1970s.

Let me also state this clearly: The attorney general's opinion is a direct threat to my congregation. The lifeblood and mission of St. Paul's is the University of Virginia, where many of my members are students, faculty or staff, and many of them are gay. Cuccinelli's narrow reading of the law turns on a green light to discriminate against them. And that, it must be said by this Christian, is not justice, and it has nothing to do with the teachings of Jesus, or the declaration of the prophet Micah 6:8 to "do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."

I will have more to say on this in another post on another day.

To pray you open your whole self

Yesterday afternoon, our daytime Education for Ministry group gathered as it usually does on Mondays. It has been only a week since one of our members, Pepe Humphrey, died of cancer.

His presence is still much with the group, and his loss much on our minds. A member of the group, Kelli Olson, offered this poem to the group yesterday. She said it reminds her of Pepe and what he brought to life and to us. I share this poem with you today:

Eagle Poem
By Joy Harjo

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can't see, can't hear
Can't know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren't always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circles in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon, within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

The Monday Funnies

We have the Bishop coming next Sunday, so quick! We need a few laughs first before we get serious (it is Lent after all). Cartoonist Dave Walker gives us a glimpse of what the bishops do when not visiting parishes.

And here's a few jokes to start your Monday. Enjoy the Monday Funnies . . .

* * *

Three pastors were out fishing. It being Lent, they decided to confess
their sins to one another.

First one admitted a weakness for the bottle.

Second one admitted lusting after women in his heart.

Third one wouldn't confess. The other two wouldn't let him get away with
that. He finally confessed, "I have a weakness for gossip and I sure can't
wait to get back to town!"

* * *

"Do you believe in life after death?" the boss asked one of his
employees.

"Yes, sir," the employee replied.

"Well, then, that makes everything just fine," the boss went on. "After you left early yesterday to go to your grandmother's funeral, she
stopped in to see you."

The strange saga of Roy Ashburn and the cost of being in the closet

I’ve been watching from afar the saga of Roy Ashburn, a Republican state senator who represents one of the most conservative districts in California – Kern County. The California Highway Patrol stopped Senator Ashburn early Wednesday for erratically driving his state-issue vehicle. He failed a sobriety test and was booked for drunken driving.

That would not be much worth noting here. Sadly, Ashburn is not the first legislator popped for DUI, and sadly, he will probably not be the last.

It became newsworthy when reports came to light that Ashburn had been a patron earlier in the evening at a gay bar in mid-town Sacramento. When Ashburn was pulled over, he had a male passenger who was not a member of his staff or his family. Over the weekend Ashburn, a divorced father of four, has reportedly asked for a leave of absence from his Senate duties.

As the story continued to unfold last week, it appeared that Ashburn has been a frequent visitor of several mid-town gay bars. Moreover, his patronage was well-known to other politicians who are openly gay. And this while he has been a strict party-line vote against gay marriage and all efforts to expand LGBT rights.

I bring this up neither to excuse nor to condemn Ashburn. In the interests of full disclosure, I consider Ashburn to be a friend. I was the Chaplain of the California State Senate for four years before coming to Charlottesville. My job was to open each session with prayer and to schmooze with senators. I very much enjoyed doing both.

I always found Ashburn, unlike a number of his colleagues in either party, to be a gentleman who was friendly and appreciative of my work. I did not know his sexual orientation, nor did I ever hear any rumors about it, though there are now news reports that rumors have flown in his district for many years.

This episode brings up a number of issues, beginning with Ashburn’s hypocrisy in voting against gay rights while socializing within the gay community that has protected his privacy. A number of commentators in recent days are asking legitimate questions about whether the gay community is obligated to protect such a politician’s privacy when he is voting against its interests. I leave it to the LGBT community to have that debate. Sacramento Bee columnist Marcos Breton wrote a good piece on Sunday, which you can read by clicking HERE. The San Francisco Chronicle has also done a good job reporting this story, including the ethical nuances, which you can read by clicking HERE.

There are some points I want to make. First, this episode underlines that our larger culture still creates enormous pressure for gay people to stay in the closet, especially to those who are in politics and who have an otherwise conservative perspective on politics. That cultural pressure comes with a cost not just to the individuals themselves, but also comes at the cost of distorting our political culture.

For Ashburn, who has made his way in politics as a conservative Republican, the contradictions that he has lived with are huge. According to reports in the media, Ashburn has previously sidestepped questions about his sexual orientation. He has not lied in the way that former U.S. Senator Larry Craig lied. But Ashburn apparently could not be open about his sexual orientation while also pursuing a successful political career. To do the latter required him to avoid honesty in the former. For the sake of argument, what would have happened if Ashburn had said he was a gay conservative in favor of gay rights as a principled libertarian position? Would his party have given him room for that? Likely not.

Or, what if Ashburn were to have said he is a gay Republican who believed no further civil protections are needed for the LGBT community and he did not believe, on principle, in gay marriage? Would the LGBT community give him room for that?

You may say that he showed a lack of personal integrity, but his integrity is at least partly shaped by the political culture in which he lives. It was easier for Ashburn to vote against gay rights by day and frequent gay bars by night.

Meanwhile, the liberal media has shown little interest in reporting fully on the ethical dilemmas this case raises, especially the dilemmas it raises for the media itself. Reporters and editors too easily fall back on the dictum that a politician’s personal life is not newsworthy unless it directly impacts on their public duties. The Ashburn incident should raise questions about whether there is such a neat dividing line, and whether the media has the ability to judge where that line falls. Was Ashburn’s anti-gay votes a way for him to hide? Or was he making legitimate principled votes? Does he even know the difference? How do we know if the media does not report the relevant facts?

Finally, those who think being gay is a “choice” should think again; it would be easier for someone like a Roy Ashburn to be heterosexual and conservative than to try leading the double life that he has apparently led while in politics. Ashburn is certainly not the first to lead such a double life in Sacramento (or Washington DC). Decades earlier, Conservative Assemblyman Democrat Walter Ingalls was a closeted gay man with a wife back in the district. Reporters and their editors knew that fact (I knew that fact when I was a reporter) and none reported it. Ingalls died of HIV/AIDS a few years after leaving office in the mid-1980s.

Where should the Church be on all this? I pray the Church will encourage honesty in government and honesty in personal sexuality. The Church should question the culture when it pushes people into such distortions of honesty. We must also ask about the cost we pay with a church culture that, in many places, still forces people and their clergy to remain in the closet. And in the case of government officials, personal dishonesty -- even about sexual orientation -- comes at a cost to the people they serve.

Silence may be kept

Have you ever noticed the brief rubric before the “Confession of Sin” in The Book of Common Prayer?

Silence may be kept.

You will find that rubric in several places. In Lent, I begin my weekday Morning Prayer with the “Confession of Sin” found on page 79; after the introductory words (“Let us confess our sins…”) is placed this rubric:

Silence may be kept.

You will notice the same rubric about silence in the Sunday morning confession found on page 330 (Rite I) or page 360 (Rite II). Often in church services we whiz right through that silence and get on with the confession because, after all, we have business to do, places to go, and we want to get on with it.

Silence may be kept.

The other morning I had an insight during that moment of keeping the silence, and I want to share it with you. The insight, though not particularly new, has something to do with the silence itself.

Silence may be kept.

The purpose of the silence is for personal reflection and confession. If only for only a few seconds, it is a time to take a deep breath, and take stock. What is it that I need to confess? The confession that follows is something different, it is a corporate confession beginning “…we confess…” That is a confession about all us together.

But the short time of silence before the corporate confession is for personal confession. It is a time for you, and you alone with your God. No one else. That time of silence is a gift to you. It is your confession.

Silence may be kept.

The other morning I paused in the silence and I realized I’ve been whizzing through the silences in life lately. I’ve been rushing to the next appointment or responding to the latest email or getting to the next meeting. And in all of that rush, I have not taken the time to notice God in the ordinary, in the places and people around me. That realization in my time of silence became my confession for the day.

What came next in my confession was the realization that my not noticing the Holy in my day makes my prayers dry and lifeless. My prayers become a word machine, and my desire to have a Lenten discipline becomes idolatry. I end up worshipping the words and the discipline, and God becomes confined to pages in a book. Without realizing it, I’ve tried to put limits on my experience of God, and if ever there was a sin, that one is it.

With confession should come repentance (or, as Rite I poetically calls it, “hearty repentance”). My promise of repentance is to pause and notice God in my day, to put life in my prayers by looking for God not just on a page but in life all around me.

And with repentance comes forgiveness, which at its most basic, is reunifying with God. The promise of such forgiveness is mine, and yours, before we ask. Yet the experience of forgiveness takes noticing (and time in the silence).

As I say, none of this is particularly new or profound – many other people more eloquent than I have written books on this theme. But for me, the other morning, it was in the Silence may be kept that I rediscovered that insight. Thankfully, there will be other moments when Silence may be kept that I will learn this once again. I pray you may also.

Painting by Claude Monnet, 1906

A visual and musical poem for your day: Market Street long ago

For regular readers of this space, you may have noticed that I try to change up the tone of things on Fridays, usually with a poem. Today I am offering something that I hope you will consider as a visual and musical poem. And like all poetry, this is personal. My journalist friend, Peter Haugen, a former Californian now in Wisconsin, sent this along. As Peter says, the film is mesmerizing. There is something about the slowness of everything that makes it seem like this was filmed on another another planet. Maybe it was.

A little explanation is in order: This is seven-minutes of footage taken from a street car moving down Market Street in San Francisco circa 1905. The music is from the first track of Airs' Moon Safari album. Note the date and place: the film was made only a few weeks before the devastating 1906 earthquake. Virtually all of the buildings you see were demolished in the earthquake and fire that followed, that is, all but one: the Ferry Building at the end of Market.

It is personal. My grandfather Arthur, on my mother's side, walked through the Ferry Building everyday on his way to work south of Market. Maybe he is one of those men waiting for a street car. Please have a look.

Lost Generation?

I am taking a break from typing words for a few days. First, a gentle reminder: the mediations written by St. Paul's members for each day of Lent can be found be clicking HERE.

And this: My cousin Sarah in Los Angeles sent this to me. It is called a "palindrome" -- it can be read forward, then each sentence can be read in reverse, and the meaning reverses when read in reverse. Trust me. Just watch. This is definitely worth a few minutes of your time.

St. Paul's youth fast and fight against world hunger

Our teenage youth group spent the weekend inside St. Paul's fasting in solidarity with those who are hungry in our world. When you see our youth please thank them for their effort and dedication.

The photo at right is of a cardboard village the youth group constructed to show how millions of people worldwide live, and it was on display in our parish hall on the Second Sunday of Lent. The Rev. Janet Legro, our associate rector for youth, wrote about their experience:

We did it!

Twenty youth and three adults fasted for 20 hours (some fasted 24 hours!) and we had a great time doing it! We arrived at church at 1PM and talked about the day ahead. Then we started building a cardboard village, painting a world hunger map and learning facts about hunger.

For example, did you know that a child dies every 5 seconds from hunger? Did you know that 26,000 people die every day from hunger related causes? Did you know that you can't think straight or go to school if you are hungry? Did you know that more people die from hunger than from war? (although we want to stop the war too.)

Then we played some games outside, then we played some games inside, then we learned about a hospital in Rwanda that Jacob Rambo's family serves. Then we finished the village and map and designed T-shirts with slogans to fight hunger. Then we played two hours of gargoyles and finally, quiet time - movies and bed! We woke up at 8AM, cleaned up and had a small morning service to talk about our experience and hear some stories from scripture. Oh yah...then at 9AM we broke the fast!

It looks like we have pledges close to $1,000.00. HOORAY! The money will go to:
(1) World Vision
(2) Episcopal Relief and Development
(3) Charlottesville Emergency Food Bank

If you would like to make a pledge (after the fact) to support these causes, please mail a check made out to "St. Paul's Youth", to Janet Legro, St. Paul's Memorial Church, 1700 University Ave. C'ville 22903. Or you can drop it by the church office.

Sad news about a treasured friend and member of St. Paul's

I have some very sad news. Joseph "Pepe" Humphrey died early Monday morning of cancer. For followers of this blog, last week we featured a deeply moving reflection he wrote, My Room, about his spiritual walk through many adversities. You can read his writing by scrolling down, or clicking HERE.

I got to know Pepe soon after we arrived in Charlottesville. Pepe and his wife, Sally, had been members of All Souls Parish in Berkeley, my last church before this one.

Pepe was part of our daytime Education for Ministry group, and he had opened his heart and his home to the group. Until recently, our regular meeting place was his living room. Today our EfM group read the Litany at the Time of Death. There were a good many tears in the room.

Pepe's memorial service will be March 27 at 11 am at St. Paul's.

Pepe was an accomplished scientist and a major presence on the faculty at the University of Virginia. Here is what the University's website has to say about him:

Joseph (Pepe) Humphrey joined the Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering of the University of Virginia in the summer of 2000. He is the Wade Professor of Engineering and Applied Science and was Department Chairman from 08/00 through 12/05. He has earned degrees in chemistry (Ingeniero Quimico Diplomado, Barcelona, Spain, 1970), chemical engineering (M. A. Sc., University of Toronto, Canada, 1973), mechanical engineering - fluid mechanics (Ph.D., Imperial College, London, U.K., 1977) and received the D. Sc. Eng, degree from London University in 1997. Between 1978 and 1995, Dr. Humphrey rose through the faculty ranks at the University of California at Berkeley. Subsequently he was Head of Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering at the University of Arizona and Dean of Engineering at Bucknell University.

Dr. Humphrey's research and teaching interests revolve around experimental, theoretical and numerical investigations of flow, heat and mass transfer phenomena, especially in relation to biomedical and biological systems. These include: application of particle image and laser-Doppler velocimetry, and other flow visualization techniques; computational fluid mechanics; turbulence modeling; buoyancy-, curvature-, and rotation-driven instabilities and transition to turbulence; two-phase flow and erosive wear; rotating and strongly curved flows; buoyancy driven flows in open cavities and enclosures; flows past bluff bodies and flow-structure interactions; development and application of interactive computational-experimental methodologies based on adaptive/learning strategies for thermofluids research; sensors and sensing in biology and engineering; biomedical catheters for cardiovascular and neurological applications. He has over 135 journal papers and 100 refereed conference papers in these areas, and is active in various professional societies including the American Society for Mechanical Engineers of which he is a Fellow. Dr. Humphrey is the founder of the biennial International Symposia on Sensors and Sensing in Biology and Engineering and a co-founder of the biennial International Symposia on Turbulence and Shear Flow Phenomena.

Monday Funnies

More snow on the way this week. My winter welcome is long gone. To get through the tedium of another snow storm, seems to me we need some jokes.

And the cartoon this week, by Dave Walker(of course), gives me some ideas on what we can do to be more welcoming. So welcome to your Monday and theMonday Funnies...

* * *

The interim pastor minister was celebrating his last service at the church he had been ministering at for some months, and his hat was passed around for a goodwill, farewell offering.

When it eventually made its way back to the minister, it was empty. He
didn't flinch, he just raised the hat to heaven and prayed, "I thank you,
Lord, that I got my hat back from this congregation."

* * *

A pastor, an avid golfer, was once taking part in a local tournament.
As he was preparing to tee off, the tournament organizer approached him and
pointed to the dark, threatening storm clouds that were gathering.

"Preacher," the organizer said, "I trust you'll see to it that the
weather won't turn bad on us."

The pastor shook his head. "Sorry. I'm sales, not management."

* * *

Four Jewish men are sitting in a restaurant in the Bronx. For a long
time, nobody says a word. Finally, one man groans, "Oy."

"Oy vey," says the second man.

"Oy vey iz mir," says the third.

At this the fourth man gets up from his chair and says, "Listen, if you
guys don't stop talking politics, I'm leaving."