A meeting of the firsts...

Episcopal Life Online Photo/Jim DeLa

It was an incredible night last night in Anaheim! At every General Convention the Integrity Eucharist is widely recognized as one of the biggest highlights!

This year was different, only in that it was even better than before. The official count from Integrity is that we had more than 1300 people in attendance.

Bishop Gene Robinson presided over our gathering with gentleness and humility.

Bishop Barbara Harris brought a word. And how!

So here's her money quote from the night:

"If you don't want GLBT folks as bishops, don't ordain them as deacons.

Better yet, be honest and say, 'we don't want you, you don't belong here' and don't betsow on them the sacrament of baptism to begin with.

How can you initiate someone and treat them like they are half-assed baptized?"

Now tell me that won't preach!!!

And to bring an incarnational presence to her words, dozens - maybe more than a hundred - of us who are openly lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender bishops, priests, and deacons crowded around Bishop Robinson for the blessing.

As a church, we are blessed beyond measure by the ministries of these two giants of the faith.

Follow all of the news from General Convention via IntegriTV at the General Convention Portal. Rumor has it that I'll be interviewed for it early next week, so keep watching!

BREAKING NEWS

From IntegriTV - the source for news and video related to LGBT advocacy at General Convention

Do not fear, only believe? We will, with God's help!

28 June 2009
Proper 8B
Mark 5:21-43

NOTE: My final sermon at St. Peter's, Morristown

Preserve us, O God, from all faithless fears and worldly anxieties, through your Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. (adapted from the 8th Sunday after the Epiphany, BCP 216)

“Do not fear. Only believe.”

We hear these words only once every three years as a part of the Gospel for today, but we could stand to hear them every day. We should hear them every day. They should be our mantra.

“Do not fear. Only believe.”

I suppose it’s fortuitous that we should hear these words today. Later on we’ll be celebrating the baptism of Hazel Spencer – the daughter of Cate Spencer and a child of this parish. This isn’t one of the more common texts to be used in a baptismal liturgy, but it works. It works really well. In fact, I’d be hard pressed to find a more appropriate set of “marching orders” for someone as they embark upon their life as a baptized Christian: “Do not fear. Only believe.”

Very often, in our lives, fear seems to be the most logical reaction. We live in the midst of profound uncertainty: financial uncertainty, environmental instability and climate change, threats to our physical safety from terrorism, crime, and everyday life. It makes a lot of sense to be afraid – even for those of us who are most secure.

But Christ says, “Do not fear. Only believe.”

In the Gospel that we read this morning, we hear the story of two healings intertwined with one another: the raising from the dead of Jairus’ daughter, and the healing of the unnamed woman who had been bleeding for twelve years.

A desperate father and a lonely woman. A leader in the synagogue and a social and religious outcast. These two, who were about as separated by the social order as any two could be, were united by two common threads: their fear, but also its antidote – their faith in God through Christ.

First, the story of Jairus. He was a leader in the synagogue, and as such, a leader in his community. Common people might fall under the spell of a traveling preacher like Jesus, but someone so ensconced in the establishment of his day, like Jairus was, must have been held to a higher standard.

Can you imagine the responses of his family, friends, and advisors? His daughter was sick and getting sicker with each passing hour. He was groping for hope wherever he might find it when he remembered the stories of Jesus. Word had been spreading through the countryside of the things this man had done. What must it have been like when Jairus first announced to those around him that he was leaving his daughter to seek the help of a heretic?

Then there’s the story of the woman. Word of Jesus had spread to her, too. Common people could clamor around him for teaching and support, but she was not common. She was to keep her distance. She was ‘unclean’.

What courage must she have summoned to break the social order, to enter a crowd, to dare to touch another person?

Jairus and the woman, as separate as they were, shared a common curse. The world was asking them to put aside their faith and their hope in favor of order and expectations. The world was asking a lot of them. But Christ was only asking this: “Do not fear. Only believe.”

In baptizing Hazel, we, as her community of faith, will ask a lot of her:

Will you continue in the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?

Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?

Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?

Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

After each question, her sponsors will answer on her behalf, “I will, with God’s help.”

It’s a lot to ask. It’s even more to promise. Not one of those vows is either easy or natural for most of us. It is hard work to strive for justice and peace among all people. Sometimes I’d rather not love my neighbor as myself. Sometimes it feels good to continue in the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers; but, sometimes it feels better to sleep in.

Yes, it’s a lot to ask. And, as her community of faith, and in communion with all the baptized, we also ask it of ourselves. We promise again to proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. We promise again and again, and we will promise again today, because we always fail.

The burden of each “I will” can seem so great. And as they compound, one of top of the other, five times over, the “I wills” can leave us feeling laden with responsibility.

But “I will” is not the end of the story. Yes, we will, but “with God’s help.” Hazel will. Cate will. You will, and I will. But the burden is not our own. We will repent and return to the Lord, but only with God’s help.

Like Jairus and the woman, Christ only asks one thing of us: that we do not fear, but only believe.

Amen.

Everyday Sexism

So... For some reason, when I've got a lot on my mind I find myself noticing things I might not otherwise notice.

Well, today I was driving back to the office after lunch when I was struck by this:

School crossing signs are sexist!!

Just look at it!

The girl is significantly smaller.

But that's not enough to convict. I suppose she could be younger.

But look at the boy. Not only is he bigger (which, of course in America-speak means better), but look at the way he's touching her. She's ahead of him, but he's CLEARLY in charge! He's holding her by the elbow. He not just accompanying her, he's directing her!

How annoying!!

More "Gregory Brothers" Fabulosity!!

Don't forget to order their CD HERE!! As an owner, regular listener, and recent concert attendee, I can vouch for its awesomeness!

Here's the latest "Auto-tune the news" :)



Stay tuned for some pictures in the next few days.

"With God's Help" and "Becoming an 'Ubuntu' People"

IntegrityUSA has released two new videos in advance of the 2009 General Convention of the Episcopal Church - now just over a month away!

Each video is under ten minutes, but speaks volumes to two very important issues facing this convention. Please take a few minutes to watch both videos, then call your Bishops and Deputies and tell them of your support!

"With God's Help" discusses, in the context of our Baptismal Covenant, the need for the church to move beyond the oppressive 2006 resolution, B033. It was the one that was steam-rolled through both houses during the final hours of that convention to urge the Church "to exercise restraint by not consenting to the consecration of any candidate to the episcopate whose manner of life presents a challenge to the wider church". Resolution B033 stands in opposition to our Baptismal Covenant, threatens the non-discrimination canon, and was born into a church of hope through a climate of fear. It's time to reclaim the hope that is our inheritance in Christ! It's time to move on!



Finally, "Becoming an 'Ubuntu' People" discusses our work toward marriage equality through the lens of this year's General Convention theme. Ubuntu is a term from the indigenous people of South Africa that attempts to recognize and honor the interconnectedness of the human experience. In the current position of inequality that exists in the Church, some members of the Body of Christ are suffering. When any are suffering, we ALL are suffering. It's time to make this season of inequality a part of our past. It's time to move forward toward a more inclusive Church!

Transitions...

Dear Friends,

Something unexpected happened in this sermon.

I had done my work in advance of preaching. I had the text written. Then, on Sunday morning, I woke up a 3 a.m. and threw it all out. I deleted the file that I had worked on, and decided to start over.

It just didn't feel honest. I didn't feel comfortable getting up in front of a congregation and saying the things that I had planned to say.

I don't remember exactly what was in the original sermon. I just knew it wasn't honest.

So, by the time church started, I entered the pulpit with about a page and a quarter of handwritten notes about the kinds of things I thought I might like to say.

By the time it was all done, I didn't remember what I had said, I just knew that I stood by whatever it was more than if I had said whatever had been on paper before.

Thank God my parish has a recording system!

I've listened to the recording, and converted it to a transcript for those who might prefer to have the sermon that way. But I'm also experimenting with putting up the audio of the sermon. It seems particularly appropriate this time, since it truly lived as a spoken word before being printed.

It was a terrifying experience. There are certainly thoughts I would have liked to develop more, or subtle word changes that I would have preferred, but all in all, I thought it came out okay. I hope that, if there are others of you out there who have had similar experiences, you will help me to reflect on this experience through your comments and emails.

It reminds me of my friend Katherine Hancock Ragsdale. I've heard it said that she advises preachers to put aside their prepared manuscripts and to attempt to preach "from a prepared heart". Though this was not a conscious attempt at taking Katherine's advice, I think that's what I accidentally did.

Like I said - it was terrifying. But I hope to turn this into an experience from which I can learn.

Thanks!




24 May 2009
Easter 7B
John 17:6-19
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26
(transcript from audio)

Assist us mercifully, O Lord, that, among all the changes and chances of this mortal life, we may ever be defended by your gracious and ready help. Amen.

We are entering, what I think it would be fair to call, the Pinocchio days of Easter.

You know the story: Pinocchio was this puppet. He was a puppet that was so dearly loved by his creator and his master that this creator and master prayerfully wished with all of his heart that Pinocchio might become a real boy.

If you know the story of Pinocchio, then you know that pretty much the whole story takes place in the course of his transition from puppet to boy. There’s a little bit of story before the transition, and there’s a little bit of story after the transition; but the real meat of the matter happens in the midst of the transition.

Like Pinocchio, we, too, are held in transition. In the calendar of the church year we are in the post-Resurrection days and the post-Ascension days; but we’re still just short of Pentecost.

We’re still hanging in the balance of that transition.

Jesus isn’t with us – at least not like he was before. The Holy Spirit is not yet with us – at least not like she will be.

Transition can be a scary place – especially when you have to live in it for a little while. It’s the process of passing from the known to the unknown. It can also be a very exciting place. A process of passing from the known to the expected.

I’d like to briefly tell you a little story about one transition in my life.

A few years ago – before I had seriously begun entering this process moving towards ordained ministry – I was in the midst of a lot of transition. A friend of mine, recognizing this transition in my life, wanted to help me through it. She wanted to be a kind of guide for me in the midst of it. So she sent me on a retreat to the Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge, Massachusetts. It’s an Episcopal monastery. And when this friend told me that she wanted to send me to a monastery, I thought she was crazy. I graciously agreed, but then, as I thought about it, I was thinking, “What in the world could she have in mind?”

I went during the fourth week of Advent that year. Now, it’s always cold in Cambridge, Massachusetts in the fourth wee of Advent, but this was a particularly cold Advent. I moved slowly into the rhythm of the life in the monastery. I began to take in their cycles of praying and waiting and praying and waiting.

The stillness began to move through me.

Each day I developed a little routine of my own before Morning Prayer. I would get very bundled up and I would get a tall cup of coffee; and I would go outside and sit on the banks of the Charles river and I would watch the sun rise.

Between the cycles of praying and waiting and praying and waiting, I found stillness. And like a metaphor for that stillness I saw it being recreated in the river in front of me. Over the days the river slowed into frozenness. And each day I would watch the sun rise and watch the night become day. And it occurred to me that I could get to know God even in the middle of transition.

As the water was transitioning to ice- as the darkness was transitioning to light- I heard God.

This morning, the lessons that we read are also stories of transition.

In Acts, we hear that Judas has died. And Peter, taking leadership among the Christian believers, leads the people of Christ into a discernment process of their own – finding someone to fill the shoes of Judas.

I didn’t check this with the Search Committee or the Vestry, but I expect that in our own discernment process we did a little more than cast lots.

They entered themselves into prayer, and they left it to what many on the outside would have assumed was chance. They waited to see where God was leading them, and to whom God was leading them.

In the other lesson we heard this morning from the Gospel According to John, we hear of another kind of transition. Step back a few days in the story. Jesus is about to go through a transition of his own: from his earthly life among us to the life that he still shares among us.

He was about to die and the first thought that came to his mind was us. He entered into prayer and asked God to be with us and to lead us. The seventeenth chapter of John is almost like Jesus’ love song to us.

In the end, all of these stories of transition – the ones in all of our hearts and the ones that we hear today – tell us a bit more about how to bring God into our own lives. We tend to look for God in the stillness and the known and the steadfast: “Christ the same yesterday, today, and forever”. And though Christ may be the same, we are not. We are people of change. And in the midst of these changes, God is being made known to us anew each day.

As I think back to the story of Pinocchio, it occurs to me that through the course of the story Pinocchio’s master and creator becomes his father. The creator and the created emerge from the transition in a new and intimate and deeper relationship than they had previously imagined possible.

May it be so with us. May all of the changes and chances of our own lives bring us into deeper, closer, and more intimate relationships with one another and with God. Amen.