A Prayer for Leadership

Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, I’d like to share with you a prayer for leadership written by Sister Joan Chittister. She’s a Roman Catholic Benedictine nun—I’ve been on retreat several times at her convent, which is a few miles from where I grew up in Erie, PA. Please keep all the candidates for office in your prayers over the next week, and pray that all goes smoothly—and fairly—on Election Day next Tuesday. Georgie Hallock of the League of Women Voters reminds us that the polls are open from 7 am to 8 pm here in Massachusetts. If you need a ride to the polls (or would be willing to give someone a ride), please let me know. Also, remember that there are also three ballot questions to decide. A (non partisan) voter guide on the ballot questions is at www.voteinfo.info.

Prayer for Leadership (On Election Day and Other Times)
Joan D. Chittister, OSB

Give us, O God,
Leaders whose hearts are large enough
To match the breadth of our own souls
And give us souls strong enough
To follow leaders of vision and wisdom.

In seeking a leader, let us seek
More than development for ourselves —
Though development we hope for —
More than security for our own land —
Though security we need —
More than satisfaction for our wants —
Though many things we desire.

Give us the hearts to choose the leader
Who will work with other leaders
To bring safety
To the whole world.

Give us leaders
Who lead this nation to virtue
Without seeking to impose our kind of virtue
On the virtue of others.

Give us a government
That provides for the advancement of this country
Without taking resources from others to achieve it.

Give us insight enough ourselves
To choose as leaders those who can tell
Strength from power,
Growth from greed,
Leadership from dominance,
And real greatness from the trappings of grandiosity.

We trust you, Great God,
To open our hearts to learn from those
To whom you speak in different tongues
And to respect the life and words
Of those to whom you entrusted
The good of other parts of this globe.

We beg you, Great God,
Give us the vision as a people
To know where global leadership truly lies,
To pursue it diligently,
To require it to protect human rights
For everyone everywhere.

We ask these things, Great God,
With minds open to your word
And hearts that trust in your eternal care.
Amen.

Jubilee Walk for AIDS in Africa

The Alewife Deanery Jubilee Walk is this weekend! I hope it’s not too late to convince you to come and walk with me and my family in solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Africa who are afflicted by AIDS. We meet at Christ Church at 9:30 to carpool to Bedford. If your kids are skeptical about walking four miles, they can ride their bikes.

I’ve written in this space before about the efforts of this diocese to work on behalf of those with AIDS (for my post about the Jubilee Walk last year, look at the e crier blog at www.ecrier.blogspot.com) For the Jubilee Walk and Worship, churches from around the diocese participate to walk the Minuteman trail that goes from Cambridge to Bedford. Some begin at Bedford Train Depot (that’s us) and others begin walking from Alewife, and we meet in the middle for a worship service with Bishop Shaw and lunch at the Church of the Redeemer in Lexington.

In partnership with African provinces and dioceses, we support programs in Africa for training home-based care workers, supporting orphan feeding and education, assisting Anglican hospitals and clinics to deliver basic medical care to orphans and afflicted families and to pregnant women, providing testing and aftercare, and preventing transmission. Our diocese supports ministries in Tanzania, Kenya, and Uganda. Last fall, Bishop Masereka preached here at Christ Church to talk about the efforts of his foundation. This fall, three Jubilee graduates will go to college in Uganda with scholarships form the Bishop Masereka Christian Foundation (http://www.bmcf.org).

In Kenya, the Mother’s Union Orphan Feeding program provides a nutritious meal to local children each Saturday The ministry is supported by our diocese, and is held at 15 parishes. From January to March of this year, the program served 57,492 meals—that’s almost 5000 children per week! In addition to supplying funds to support local efforts, the diocese has also commissioned Dianne Smith as missioner in Kenya to work with the hospital and mobile care programs. You can visit Dianne’s blog at http://www.heart-to-god.blogspot.com.

I think it’s especially important for a smaller church like Christ Church to know about and support these global programs. It’s easy to think that because we are just 70 or 80 people gathered on a Sunday, we can’t do anything to help with the world’s problems. But connected with our diocese, and connected with the global Anglican Communion, there is a lot that we can do—a lot that we are already doing. Walking a few miles one Saturday a year doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s a start. I hope you’ll join me. If you’d just like to make a donation, write your check to Christ Church with “Jubilee Ministries” in the memo line. For more on the diocesan ministries, visit www.diomass.org/mission/AIDS_in_Africa. Working closer to home, the National Episcopal AIDS Coalition seeks to raise awareness and help ministries with people with AIDS herein the US. They’re at http://neac.org/.

Jubilee Ministries (from June 2007)

The June Jubilee “Walk and Worship” for AIDS relief in Africa is June 23!

I’ve written in this space before about the efforts of this diocese to work on behalf of those with AIDS in the global South, particularly in Africa. For the June Jubilee Walk and Worship, churches from around the diocese participate to walk the Minuteman trail that goes from Cambridge to Bedford.. Some begin at Bedford Train Depot (that’s us) and others begin walking from Alewife, and we meet in the middle for a worship service and celebration at the Church of the Redeemer in Lexington.

In partnership with African provinces and dioceses, we use the funds raised and our own skills to plan and administer programs in Africa for training home-based care workers, supporting orphan feeding and education, assisting Anglican hospitals and clinics to deliver basic medical care to orphans and afflicted families and to pregnant women, providing testing and aftercare, and preventing transmission.

What can your money buy?
$8: A year’s worth of Saturday meals for a child in Maseno, Kenya
$25: Supplies for a medical kid to be used by volunteers in the Diocese of Tanga (Tanzania) who make home visits to people with AIDS
$250: Secondary school fees for one child in Kasese, Uganda for one year
$4000: Funding for one parish to operate a Saturday orphan care program for one year

While it’s true that it’s an important fundraiser (we raised over 30,000 dollars last year), it’s also important to participate in the walk itself. The Jubilee walk is one way that we can be, just for one day, standing in solidarity with those who are suffering the terrible effects of AIDS. Sometimes it’s important physically to put ourselves in motion. As Rabbi Abraham Heschel said, these actions are “praying with our feet.” I think this is the reason we feel called to participate in political protests and the like; I’m not always sure, exactly, that they accomplish very much. But in a world where it sometimes seems that problems are too overwhelming for a clear solution, we need to do something, to stand somewhere to be counted. June Jubilee is like that. Events like this are also very important for the life of the global Anglican Communion. They show that we are in love and solidarity with our brothers and sisters in Christ no matter what differences we might have on topics like sexuality. For those of you unable to walk several miles, help is needed at the Church of the Redeemer in Lexington to set up and clean up. We also need someone to staff the dessert bake sale table. And if you can’t walk and you can’t donate, you can always pray. Prayer is the most important work of all.

God's Beloved Children

This morning, as I do every month, I was celebrating the Eucharist with the Sisters of Saint Anne, an Episcopal Convent in Arlington. I had brought along my son, Isaiah, and my mother, who’s visiting this week. Since the service is at 8 am and I couldn’t let him off at daycare before, the idea was for my mom to hold Isaiah during the service, and then we’d drop him off on the way home. Of course, it was not so simple.

 I should preface this by saying that even though they see each other fairly infrequently Isaiah loves my mother. She is much more fun than I am, and this week Isaiah has enjoyed himself immensely. But once I got behind that altar, Isaiah wanted mama, now, please, and cried and cried. My mother tried to calm him down but he was not interested. The sisters love Isaiah—the nuns are retired now, but years ago they had a school and children were always at the center of their life together. But all the smiles and peek-a-boo in the world from these sweet ladies was not enough to distract him. So after I read the Gospel, I invited Isaiah to come up and help with the sermon. Securely attached to my hip, all was right with his world again. He stayed there through the Eucharistic Prayer and all the way to the end—the one-handed Fraction was a little rough, but I think it turned out okay.

 

The Gospel for the day rather cryptic, so I had already decided to preach on the Epistle instead:

 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. (Eph 1: 3-6)

 Every spiritual blessing is ours. God our Creator has chosen us, before the foundation of the world. God chose us for adoption, to be beloved children through Christ, according to the pleasure of God’s will. As I reflected on this passage with the sisters, I wondered what it would be like if each of us were so aware of our connection to God as children are aware of their parents. Young children are so observant, so aware at every moment of what their parents are doing. What if we were so aware at all times of what God, our beloved abba were doing? (Abba is the term Jesus used, more akin to “daddy” than “father”) What if, at the invitation to come close to God, we remembered the child’s inclination to run toward love?

 Instead, when we feel we are separated from God, it becomes all the harder for us to come near. Sin and anxiety make it harder for us to see that God is right there with us. And as my mother pointed out as we left, when we’re separated from God it becomes all the harder for us to see love in other places. Isaiah just wanted me, but forgot how much he loves his grandmother. But the circle goes both ways—when we are near to God, we are also more open to the love of our families and friends that surrounds us on every side, too.

 Take a moment now to dwell in God’s desire for you: that “glorious grace bestowed on us in the Beloved.” Nothing can separate you from that.  Not your worry, not your anger, not your grief. God is with you, longing for you, even there. Thanks be to God.

October 9: Abundance and Worry

This week, I’ve been thinking about the economy, in all its whirling uncertainty. It’s all so abstract—I heard that a stack of 700 billion dollar bills would reach 54 miles into the sky, but that doesn’t help me understand the recent bail-out any better. The amount is staggering.   Now we know, too, the crisis isn’t confined to the United States, either—it’s worldwide, stretching all the way to China. As a non-financially oriented person myself, I have a hard time understanding what’s really going on—how bad is it? What do we do? How did we get here? Who can I blame?  All of these swirling questions contribute not just to worry, but to a deep, deep uncertainty about the future.  And this is the week we get our pledge cards! How can I give to church when I don’t even know what I’ll have for myself?

 There’s a strain in Christian spirituality that says, simply, don’t worry. It’s faithless to worry. If you worry, then you doubt God’s providence, generosity and care.  But I don’t buy it.

 It’s not faithless to worry. What is faithless is to allow ourselves to be paralyzed by our worry. It’s faithless to let your worry crowd out your prayer or your ability to hear the needs of others.  Jesus says,” I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10).  What does “abundant life” mean in a time where fear and scarcity seem to be the order of the day? Every time you hear the news, it’s about how there isn’t enough. How can Jesus claim that there is not just enough, but plenty? 

 We have a hard time seeing it, but we have glimpses of that dream of God “… the Lord will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear. (Isaiah 25:6)  As we come together for the sacraments each Sunday, the Body of Christ feeds us, and we taste that abundant life for ourselves. As we hear the promises of Jesus in Scripture, we taste it. As we hear sing the hymns, we taste it. As we greet each other at the peace, we taste it.  As food is distributed at Grandma’s Pantry, we taste it.

 We trust God whose son Jesus Christ became human, and walks with us—not God, “out there,” but risen Christ, Holy Spirit, Creator and Father, right here.  We don’t just “trust God” in the abstract—we trust God in each other. We don’t just sacrifice in the abstract—we sacrifice for, and, importantly with, each other.  There is plenty to be worried about. That is okay. There is an opening, here, to invite God into that space of concern and care. There is no reason to insist that everything is fine when it clearly is not. But what our prayer can do is align us in our worry, to share the burden with God. This doesn’t mean that there is nothing to carry—but it reminds us that we don’t carry it alone.

 You’ll receive your pledge packet this Sunday in church, (we’ll mail it to you if you aren’t here). Before you fill it out, take a deep breath. Ask for the grace to see the invitation to pledge as an opportunity to exercise trust and to draw near to God.  Pray for the grace to see how God shares your worry, and ask God how you can share the grace of God’s peace with others.

 

St Francis

On Tuesday at our education series, “Commit,” we talked about how we become Christians—about baptism. We talked quite a bit about how—or, indeed if—our identity as Christians puts us in opposition to our dominant culture. There are, we decided, definitely values of “the world” that we would reject—“more is better,” for example—but we acknowledged that as widespread as the Christian faith is in our cultural context, that alone does not put us out of synch with what’s around us. Your interpretation of the faith answers that question—not just your claim of the label “Christian.”

One Christian who has had a very clear view of the relationship between Christian faith and the world is Saint Francis of Assisi. We remember him these days more with celebrations of creation than abstinence from worldly pleasures, but his life teaches us about both of those. This week, we’ll observe the Feast of St Francis with a celebration of blessing of animals on Saturday afternoon—bring your pets at 4:00 pm, and we’ll thank God for all the gifts we receive in their companionship with us. Of course, stuffed animals and pictures of pets are welcome, too. On a personal note, one of my cats died this week, so I will be especially mindful of her.

Francis was born in Assisi, in 1182. His father was a very wealthy cloth merchant, and as a child, Francis would have planned to join his father’s successful business when he grew up. But Francis was converted to Christ, and resolved to give everything up for poverty. Francis found his home in nature, freed from possessions. He gave up all conventional pleasure—money, sex, food—for a brown wool robe and a begging bowl. He wanted to be poor, to be free. St. Francis, in fact, didn’t really do a great deal of anything; Francis’ example was in the way that he was. In poverty and community, Francis embodied simple joy. He embodied joy in difficulty, in hunger, and in cold. He embodied joy in enticing others to come and be “fools for Christ;” (1 Corinthians 4:10)—to forget about productivity, forget about consumption, forget about accomplishment, and just focus on the love of God.

The people of Assisi were deeply alarmed by Francis’ behavior. Most people thought he was crazy, giving up everything his father had worked for, all the accomplishment and wealth and respect. In one story, Francis’ father finds him preaching in the town square. He is horrified that this bizarre son is embarrassing him. He lashes out at Francis the only way he knows how—to threaten to take everything from him. But Francis isn’t threatened at the prospect of losing material possession. He strips off all his clothes and gives them back to his father.

One description of Francis’ life talks about him as “the most popular and admired, but probably the least imitated; few have attained to his total identification with the poverty and suffering of Christ.” I’m not convinced, though, that Francis would have appreciated this, though intended to be praise. For Francis it wasn’t about accomplishment or praise; it was about freedom.

I don’t know what Francis would think about the fact that we bless animals in celebration of him—probably, he’d be glad that we are willing to be, even just for an afternoon, “Fools for Christ,” remembering God’s blessing even in the more playful corners of our lives. Probably he would also hope that we would feed a few hungry people on our way to church. Whether you have a pet to bring or not, please come this week—we’ll meet on Saturday on the lawn (by the St Francis statue, of course!) at 4:00.