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."

"Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield"

Today's sermon is based on Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35

“Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield.”

Do you notice the first words the Lord Almighty tells Abraham? “Do not be afraid.” It is the same thing angels say when they make an appearance in the Bible: “Do not be afraid.”

What is this about being afraid and God? Maybe there is something scary about encounters with the sacred that make people feel afraid.

Maybe God knows that people become afraid when talk turns to religion: the road map of the Spirit is very sketchy, and religion can get you into a lot of trouble in a hurry in the world.

Look at the lessons this morning: fear laces throughout: God challenges Abraham to go on a long journey to a land far away; he has no idea where he is going, or how to get there, or who he might meet along the way. That is scary.

Or take the letter to the Philippians: Paul is writing to a persecuted Christian community that is facing death at any moment, and he is telling them to not be afraid.

Or take Jesus in the gospel lesson from Luke: His followers tell him that Herod is out to kill him, and Jesus ignores them. “It is not my time yet,” he tells them, “I have much to do, and besides I need to get to Jerusalem first. So stop worrying.”

All of these stories are about journeys that are filled with peril. These stories aren’t necessarily about great people with great faith.

Some people have faith, some people don’t. The stories don’t all have happy endings. What ties these stories together is God’s faithfulness to God’s people. In each story God is present, and God finds a way to bring people home from their journey, no matter how bleak or frightening the situation looks at the time.

So, that raises a question for me: Were those who wrote the Bible unafraid? I don’t think so. Then as now, there was much to fear: wars, disease, crime, natural disasters, and all manner of evil.

Then as now, bad things happen to good people through no fault of their own. All of us here know that – all of us – no matter our age or station in life.

And into that uncertainty comes our God who implores us: Do not be afraid.

Why do we hear this now, in Lent? Maybe because this is the time of year when we are most in need of hearing it.

The fact that Lent comes in the middle of winter is no accident. Lent is the 40 days leading up to Good Friday and Jesus dying on the Cross. Easter is coming, but not yet. First is the journey through the valley of the shadow of Lent, and it is tempting to not go there. But go anyway.
On this journey, we are asked to pay attention to what we see and experience on our walk to Easter.

Lent is a time of surprises. It is a time that we set aside for being just a little more intentional about our walk with God, the time to look inward at what separates us from God, and what separates us from those around us.

The reason we “give up” something for Lent isn’t out of masochistic obligation, but to bring ourselves into a place where we notice the presence of God in the ordinary.

So if you want to give up something, give up being distracted, or give up being too busy to smile or to laugh. Give up being too busy to pray.

Or this: how about giving up being afraid to hear the small still voice telling you that you really are loved, you truly are the beloved of God?

How about giving up fear for Lent?

Find a way to simplify, slow down, lighten up and discover again what really matters in life. That might lead you to saying yes to a new adventure in your life. It might lead you to reaching outside yourself by participating in one of our ministries in the community that we are celebrating today as part of our Centennial.

Notice one more thing: After God tells Abraham to not be afraid, Abraham replies, “O Lord, what will you give me?”

That sounds like a rather impertinent question: What’s in it for me?

And God replies: everything is in it for you: You will have many heirs, and much abundance; grace upon grace is yours forever. So stop worrying. “I am your shield.”

God tells Abraham that no matter how hard the journey, no matter how terrifying the darkness descending, God will be there with Abraham and his descendants.

“I am your shield,” God tells us.

We are the descendants of Abraham, each one of us. God’s promise of faithfulness to Abraham is God’s promise to us – and is ours forever. AMEN

Photo of the Abraham stained glass window at Canterbury Cathedral; the window dates from the 12th century and is south facing.

A cry for help: Our health care "debate" and what it means to real people

I have stayed out of the health care debate largely because it makes my stomach turn. The biting partisanship, the sloganeering that is being passed off for analysis, and the esoteric jargon clouds all my attempts at sorting out the issue. Last summer I thought I might learn something by going to one of the so-called "town hall" meetings.

Instead of a reasoned debate, I was treated to a group of angry demagogues lambasting the local first-term Democratic Congressman for even thinking about voting for health care reform. More recently, the woman who cut my hair lectured me about how those who favor health care reform are really trying to create "death panels" to euthanize people. I wanted to run screaming from her barber chair and the entire topic along with it.

Meanwhile, life in the parish goes on. The clergy visit the sick, console the bereaved, and we talk with families facing life and death decisions about the people they love. Most people, in my experience, know nothing about what they will face until the day they are confronted with the starkness of feeding tubes, incubators, and beeping monitors by the bedside of their mother or father, wife or partner, child or friend, in a noisy and often chaotic hospital room. When they enter that room and reach that moment, the political slogans are utterly meaningless.

And that brings me to this 13-minute commentary by Ken Olbermann on MSNBC. I'd like you to watch it. I'd especially like you to watch if you are healthy, or if you have aging parents, or you have someone you love who is chronically ill. I don't care about your politics, but make no mistake: politics and health care are now cemented together. This is not easy to watch, and Olbermann's language is blunt, graphic and detailed as he describes the decisions he is making about his very ill father. You may not like what you hear. But please watch:

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Orb-weavers, sitting in the corner, the world not bad

Usually in church life things slow down shortly after Christmas. Not this year. We've had a visit from the presiding bishop, waves of snowstorms, an annual meeting, a centennial banquet, Vestry retreat, and a relentless stream of pastoral care needs in our parish. And that's just a start to the list.

Truthfully, we are way overdo for a poem. So here is one sent by our friend Karen in Tennessee. I love it. Enjoy your day.

Private Lives

by Allan Peterson

How orb-weavers patch up the air in places
like fibrinogen, or live in the fence lock.
How the broom holds lizards.
How if you stand back you will miss them
afflicted by sunset,
the digger bees mining the yard,
birds too fast to have shadows,
the life that lives in the wren whistle.
You will see moth-clouds
that are moving breaths
and perhaps something like the star
that fell on Alabama
through the roof of Mrs. E. Hulitt Hodges
and hit her radio, then her.
No, you must be close for the real story.
I remember being made
to stand in the corner for punishment
because it would be dull and empty
and I would be sorry.
But instead it was a museum of small wonders,
a place of three walls
with a weather my breath influenced,
an archaeology of layers, of painted molding,
a meadow as we called them then
of repeatable pale roses,
an eight-eyed spider in a tear of wallpaper
turning my corner.
The texture. The soft echo if I talked,
if I said I am not bad if this is the world.

"My Room" - A powerful homily by a treasured friend and member of St. Paul's

For the past year we've invited St. Paul's people to offer a reflection at our Wednesday Evening Prayer. We've been treated to some extraordinary meditations from some extraordinary people.

Last night, it was my privilege to read one of these reflections from

Joseph "Pepe" Humphrey. I need to explain a bit.

Pepe, and his wife Sally, were among the first people I got to know when we moved to Charlottesville. They are from Berkeley, and they had been members at All Souls Parish until he took a professor post at the University of Virginia. My All Souls friends told me to look them up, and of course I did.

Pepe has been in our Education for Ministry group. We've been meeting in his house until recently.

Pepe could not be there last night. He has cancer. He was scheduled to read his homily a few weeks ago, but then the snow hit, and he couldn't get to St. Paul's. We rescheduled for last night, but he is now so weak he could not come to read it.

He asked me to read this for him. I have to say it was one of the most powerful Evening Prayer experiences I have ever witnessed.

Before you read this, first read John 14:1-6. Then take your time reading, and please keep Pepe and Sally, and his daughters, in your prayers:

MY ROOM

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, and when He placed the stars in the firmament of the heavens, I like to think He brought into existence a universe replete with galaxies, each with innumerable solar systems supporting many, many earth-like planets vibrant with life at different stages, with intelligent God-loving creatures like us created in the image of God. Jesus says in John’s Gospel, "Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am you may be also.” I like to think that the “Father’s house” Jesus speaks of is the universe God created, and that the “many rooms” are the collection of life-supporting planets in this universe.

I have a dwelling place that I call “My Room.” I have lived in My Room all my life. My Room has many windows and a door, and I control whether they are open, half open or shut, and what passes through them. I have lived a very insulated, self-focused and self-gratifying life in My Room, with the door to it often shut except for special visitors of my own choosing. But now and then I have opened or half-opened some of the windows to deal with the world outside. In fact, some of the windows have mail slots at their base, so that if I do not wish to open a particular window I can still interact indirectly with the world outside by posting a note.

One window that is fully open all the time is the Window of Knowledge. For I am a scientist you see, and my livelihood and much of my intellectual excitement rest largely on the knowledge I receive and transmit through that window. I have no problem keeping that window open.

Another window that I thought was fully open is the Window of Family Relatives and Friends. But when I look carefully I see that it has been only partly open. Over the years I have taken for granted my wife and children and not bothered to fully open that window to let pass through it all the responsibilities and joys associated with being a husband and a father. I have now fully opened that window.

There is also the Window of Health, another window that I thought was fully open but which, in fact, was only partly open. Again, for years I took good health for granted and did not let enough fresh air and sunshine pass through this window, to really promote my good health in the company of others. I have done exercise all my life, but always alone, inside My Room, cut off from the outside world.

Then there is the Window of Love and Compassion. This window has always been mostly shut, any interactions with the outside world being through the mail slot at its base. The window was mostly shut because I thought I knew all about love and compassion. But I was wrong. By opening this window I discover that, to know about love you must allow yourself to be loved, and to know about compassion you have to experience suffering. In the self-satisfied smug world of My Room, I had cut myself off from both real love and true compassion. Now this window has been pried wide open and I know more about love and compassion, especially for others.

There are other windows to My Room and we need not explore them all, except perhaps to tell you about the Window of Faith and Hope. I knew this window was jammed, painted shut, but I gave it no importance. I had never questioned my “faith;” and what did I need to “hope” for?; I had all I needed to hope for in My Room. Then a series of devastating events occurred in relatively quick succession...I was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer and started to receive a long and painful therapy...

In my desperation and suffering I ran to the Window of Faith and Hope and tried to pry it open, but I could not budge it. I pounded on it, I clawed with fingernails at the paint hoping to loosen it, I pulled as forcefully as I could on the handle. But all to no avail. And yet I could hear whispering on the other side of the window, and I yelled in anger “Open this window!” But nothing happened, just a continued gentle whispering on the other side. Eventually, I slumped against the window and finally crumpled to the floor miserable and exhausted, a very sad and broken man. In my sobbing I begged God’s forgiveness for my great sin and, eventually, I fell into a deep sleep. In my sleep I heard more whispering, I heard these words being whispered to me: “For behold, you look for truth deep within me, and will make me understand wisdom secretly.”

Hours later when I awoke, the first thing I noticed was that the window of Faith and Hope was wide open, letting fresh air and sunlight into My Room. The window showed no signs of having been forced, and it moved easily on its hinges. The other thing I noticed was that the whispering had stopped. But now that the window was fully open I could read some words the Whisperer had scorched into the outside wooden frame; the words read: “The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”

I come to the end of my story. The point is to remind you that each one of us lives in a room of our own making, with windows and a door, and it is important to open the windows and the door fully to allow the joy and gladness of the outside world to enter your room carried by the Grace and Love of God. I think the psalmist new all about cosmic houses and rooms when he wrote: “One thing have I asked of the LORD; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.”

Joseph A.C. Humphrey

Painting by Edward Hopper

Vestry retreat: Listening for the holy Spirit, election of new wardens and officers

This past weekend the St. Paul's Vestry went on retreat for two days and two nights. We began and ended in prayer.

On our first evening we shared our personal stories. The next day we spent the entire first morning talking about discernment of the Holy Spirit and how that might translate into making decisions as leaders of our parish.

On Saturday afternoon we worked on the 2010 budget, unanimously approving a balanced budget that maintains our ministries. If the budget is is to work, it will require more involvement by the lay members of St. Paul's in virtually every ministry of the parish.

Then we got a little free time before dinner.

On Saturday evening our conversation was less formal, but at least as intense. We discussed the various roles of the officers of the Vestry and how Vestry members can support each other. We had an involved conversation about how all of us can communicate more directly and clearly with each other and with the parish.

Finally, on Sunday morning, we elected the officers of the Vestry. The Vestry continued a practice I introduced last year that is somewhat unusual. I do not pick the officers or even make a suggestion. Instead, each member of the Vestry is asked to complete one of the the following sentences: "I feel called to be [senior warden]," or "I do not feel called to be [senior warden] but I believe [Name] is called to be senior warden."

Not until everyone agrees on who the one called is, including the one named, do we have an election. It takes time, a great deal of vulnerability and courage, and all of it begins and ends in prayer.

The new Senior Warden is Pam Dennison (photo at right); the new Junior Warden is Bruce

Carveth. Re-elected as treasurer was Jack Bocock; and elected as Register is Sterling Alexander. Please keep all of them in your prayers.

We also discussed, at some length, the role of the junior warden. You may recall that a year ago the Vestry decided to change the traditional role of junior wardens managing the building.

Instead, the junior warden would direct a special project. Last year, Paul Brockman agreed to chair the Centennial celebration as junior warden, and Paul will continue this year to chair the centennial.

Bruce's project as junior warden will be to examine and assist us with all aspects of communication at St. Paul's. Meanwhile, Pat Punch will continue to chair our Buildings & Grounds Ministry Team.

One other thing: Unfortunately, there's been some misunderstanding about how this year's Vestry was elected in an open process of discernment and nomination. I've given a lengthy explanation on this blog, and now there are several comments worth reading both pro and con. You can access that by either scrolling down, or simply clicking HERE.

I feel very good about our Vestry members for this year, and how they talked and listened to each other at the retreat; each of them are dedicated to St. Paul's and dedicated to listening to each other and the Holy Spirit as they embark upon their leadership in our parish for 2010. Please give them your thanks and support when you see them. And keep all of us in your prayers.

Photos by Dudley Rochester.

Monday funnies

The sun came out Sunday and the snow is melting. As I look out from my second-story window, the snow on the garage roof looks to be about 10 inches thick. Good!

Time for some lame jokes at the expense of preachers everywhere. Cartoon by Dave Walker (of course) Enjoy the Monday Funnies...

Our church assigns people to be greeters at church before worship.
According to my mother, this practice is known as "Howdy Duty"

* * *

A paramedic was asked on a local TV talk-show program: "What was your
most unusual and challenging 911 call?"

"Recently we got a call from that big white church at 11th and Walnut,"
the paramedic said. "A frantic usher was very concerned that during the
sermon an elderly man passed out in a pew and appeared to be dead. The usher
could find no pulse and there was no noticeable breathing."

"What was so unusual and demanding about this particular call?" the interviewer asked.

"Well," the paramedic said, "we carried out four guys before we found the one who was dead."

* * *

An Anglican vicar, well into a lengthy sermon on the Gospel for the day,
suddenly stopped and called down to the his warden "that man's asleep."

The warden replied: "You put him to sleep; YOU wake him up."

All True Christians: Bishop Dan Edwards

I am off on the Vestry retreat today, so I am featuring a "guest" blogger: Dan Edwards, the Episcopal Bishop of the Diocese of Nevada. I met him in an elevator last summer in Anaheim at General Convention. He was the only bishop wearing a baseball cap on the floor of the House of Bishops so I had to like him.

He wrote this the other day on his blog (you can read his blog by clicking HERE). I am reprinting this in full; it is thought-provoking:

All True Christians

By Dan Edwards

“All True Christians Are Pro-Life,” thus said a bumper sticker in Carson City.

I am indebted to this bumper sticker for keeping me entertained for days, spinning out lines of inquiry and wonder at such a curiously arrogant assertion of dogma. These are a few of the things I wonder about.

Who decides what opinions you have to hold in order to be a “true Christian?” For centuries, we worked out our definitions of orthodoxy in ecumenical councils. Bishops from all over the Christian world met in prayerful deliberation, guided by theologians, mystics, and people of noted sanctity. They came to a consensus definition of the faith. In those days, the statements of the ecumenical councils set the limits on Christian belief. There was a lot going on in the Protestant Reformation, but the theological heart of it was the claim that the definitions articulated by the councils had become too precise. Each person, the reformers insisted, should be given a copy of the sacred text, written in his or her own language, and allowed to find their own understanding of the truth guided by the indwelling Holy Spirit -- not an ecclesiastical hierarchy. That opened up the possibilities of “true Christianity” to a radically wider array of opinions. What may be new in our time is the extension of this individuality to the right of each individual not only to discern his or her own interpretation but to declare that interpretation to be orthodoxy itself and pronounce anathema on anyone who has reached a different interpretation.

So who defines a “true Christian” today? Ralph Reed’s Christian Coalition took most of the pending legislation of the 1990’s, prescribed a right position on that legislation, and claimed that any legislator who voted wrong on any issue was not a “true Christian.” But how did Ralph get that authority? He couldn’t even get himself elected Lieutenant Governor of Georgia. Yet he claimed a greater authority than the Council of Nicaea.

It used to be so simple. For Paul, if you could say “Jesus is Lord,” you were a true Christian even if you had some harebrained ideas. Eventually that 3-word affirmation grew into the Apostle’s Creed, and finally the Nicene Creed. In the 4th Century, being baptized and saying the Nicene Creed were enough to call yourself a true Christian even if you could not have passed Ralph Reed’s gauntlet of legislative issues test. Who decides whether someone is a “true Christian?” Maybe we could go back to objective standards like the Bible and the Ancient Creeds. Otherwise, we are in the hands of the manufacturers of bumper stickers.

But what about the substance of the claim itself? Are all true Christians “pro-life?” The threshold issue is: what do we mean by “pro-life?” If it means a basic orientation toward life and engagement with the world as opposed to life-denying asceticism, then I have to agree that a true Christian is pro-life. We are an Easter people, a people of the Resurrection. So we are for life – no doubt about it. I would think being pro-life compels one to be an ardent advocate of the Millenium Development Goals, to eradicate death-dealing malaria, tuberculosis, HIV-AIDS, and malnutrition. A pro-life person sends Nets For Life to Kenya. Since life depends on health, surely one who is pro-life must oppose toxic waste dumping, nuclear proliferation, global warming, and smoking. Are all of these positions essential to being a true Christian? Is that what the bumper sticker means?

Of course, that is not at all what “pro-life” means in American politics. It means support for government regulation of a women’s choice to carry a pregnancy to term as opposed to abort. I have no doubt whatsoever that a true Christian can be “pro-life” in that sense. I know many of them. But is that moral stance so indisputable as to be the core of Christian faith? It is probably not in Scripture (one verse is possibly – but it’s a stretch – arguable). It is definitely not in the Creeds. It is not an ancient dogma of the Church. It was never addressed by an ecumenical council. The Episcopal Church’s Resolution on abortion is “pro-life” in that it regards all life as sacred, it holds any abortion to be a “tragic choice,” and says abortion should never be done for trivial reasons – but it finally affirms that this is an intimate moral decision to be made by a woman with pastoral guidance and moral counseling – not something to be regulated by the government. So, if being “pro-life” means I have to support legislation, I would have to defy the teachings of my church in order to be a “true Christian.” Yet, so many of the Epistles and the writings of Church Fathers like Ignatius of Antioch and Clement of Rome say that a true Christian respects the teachings of the Church. The bumper sticker does put many of us on the horns of dilemma.

How do we define a “true Christian?” What are the standards? My son-in-law, an ordained presbyter of the Methodist Church, recently “became a fan” of a Face Book page supporting gay marriage. A friend wrote him a lengthy exposition explaining that homosexuality is a sin, so she could not understand how a Christian could support such a thing. She was making a host of major assumptions which many of us who think of ourselves as Christians do not share – for example the basic function of the Bible as a rule book, the interpretation of ritual purity violations as “sins” even though both Testaments clearly treat them differently, the idea that forbidding one specific sexual practice implies the prohibition of others, the idea that rules explicitly directed against men can be extended to women, the notion that most ritual purity rules were superseded by the gospel but a select few were not, that the whole of moral revelation was complete in the Scripture, etc.

Again, there are clearly thousands of people on both sides of this issue –thousands who have been baptized, who receive the sacraments regularly, who recite the Ancient Creeds, and revere the Holy Scriptures, all saying “Jesus is Lord” and meaning it – yet who disagree about the morality of homosexuality. Is it possible for these people to disagree and yet recognize each other as “true Christians?” Yes, if . . . .

And here I gulp at what I feel compelled to say. In this post-modern age of devout subjectivism, I know this sounds hopelessly conservative. We can do what our forebears did. We can disagree and have high-charged energetic provocative conversations about the implications of the faith, but only if we embrace a strong orthodoxy and a vigorous orthopraxy.

The orthodoxy consists of a commitment to the sacred text, our holy Scriptures, as the starting point of discussion; a commitment to the ancient creeds as the framework, the language structure for our image of God; and a willingness to listen respectfully to the teachers, saints, poets, and sages of our tradition more than the pundits of today. The orthopraxy consists of a commitment to the Summary of the Law. To love God with all our hearts is to love a mystery, to revere a mystery, and so to be humble in the presence of that mystery. To love my neighbor as myself is to give him what is his due and what I expect in return, a decent respect for my integrity and my conscience. It occurs to me that adherence to the Summary of the Law might imply a certain reticence in what I paste to my bumper.

While I am away...

There is a lot going on at St. Paul's tomorrow, so I hope you will be there. It is the First Sunday of Lent, and it begins with the chanting of the Great Litany. The cantor (Daniel Hine) will be chanting the "prayers of the people" in the opening litany, including the names of those who have asked prayers for healing, and those who have died.

We also have a double-header Sunday in adult education. I hope you will avail yourself of one of these opportunities:

An authentic Haitian Meal Fund Raiser with The Rev. Elisa Wheeler of Episcopal Relief and Development after the 10:00 am service. The Rev. Wheeler will be our guest preacher at both the 8am and 10 am worship services, and will speak at the luncheon about ERD’s work in the aftermath of the devastating earthquake in Haiti.

We are also launching Lenten series on end-of-life issues, led by The Rev. Ann Willms, our associate rector. "Talking About Death Won't Kill You: A Lenten Series About Grace-Filled Endings" continue on Wednesday Feb. 24 and through Lent. This Sunday we have a guest speaker, Marcia Childress, who will be joining Ann for this.

Before you decide that this topic is too grim for you, please do think again. Even those of you who are in your 20s need to know about these issues, not just for yourself but for the care you might need to be giving your parents one day. I can tell you from personal experience having cared for my father before he died, I wish I had known more than I did at the time.