We are Here! Wild Goose Festival 2014

Dear People of Christ Church,

Last week, my family and I drove 925 miles (and, again, 925 back) to the Wild Goose Festival, our second time joining other Christians and questioners for a four day festival of "justice, spirituality, and music." Thankfully this year we came out of the Cherokee National Forest with no wild tow truck stories as we did last year! I'm not sure how many hundreds of people were there, but it's kind of a pop-up Christian community of campers, speakers, and musicians, with a combination of Episcopal progressivism and evangelical Jesus-fervor. Wild Goose is a good example of how Christians of many different stripes can learn from each other.

Some of the speakers were big names, both in the Episcopal Church (music workshop with Ana Hernandez) and in the wider world, including, a rousing altar-call to social justice sermon by the Rev.William Barber, leader of the Moral Mondays movement in North Carolina. I also heard Jim Wallis, founder of Sojourners talking about racism as America's original sin. Most of the time, though, I hung out in the "Carnival" tent. It was hosted by the Carnival de Resistance, a crew of poets, dancers, artists, and activists. Also academics: Jim Perkinson talked about American white supremacism and how living in inner city Detroit and learning from the African-American community there had saved his soul. Ched Myers, whose work I've long been interested in, talked about the Christian invitation to love our watershed, not just change our light bulbs because we ought to.

From their welcome sign:
We wish with our bodies to contradict claims that civilization has made about how necessary its gifts are to a life well lived and again to playfully produce, if not proof, some early evidence that a life of another stripe might be realistic, even necessary.

In addition to all of these great ideas and discussions, The carnival space felt liturgical. At the end of one session we wandered into, we were invited to greet each other with this: "We are here! We are here!" which would not have been out of place (maybe without the puppets and face paint) here as we pass the peace on Sunday mornings.

We are here! This is the human interaction that says, "I see you, and yes, we are here. We have been created for more than buying and selling. We have been created to see each other." We are here! We see each other! We remember! We remember, not just each other, but everyone. Poor people in Detroit whose water is getting shut off. New immigrants, whether or not they have the correct paperwork. People you disagree with. Women who have lost their right to their full health care benefits. We are all here. God made me. God made you. Before we're supposed to "witness" God's love to each other, God invites us to witness the Other in the first place, see each other at all. Jim Perkinson pointed out that the beginning of the Gospel-the beginning of the Gospel, that we so often remind ourselves is "good news"-is the voice of one crying out in the wilderness. The cry is the beginning.

All of this raises the question: how are we seeing each other? How do we see each other here at Christ Church, as well as those not within our doors? How do I live out these values in my comparatively comfortable life? What was great about the Carnival tent was the shimmering, holy joy of finding a way to live differently: the bean bag toss game "Cleanse the Temple" to remind us of Jesus' invitation to faith without commerce, the puppets, the parades, the anti-clock tower that asks, "Do you have time or does time have you?"

I imagine-I hope!-I will spend some more time thinking about this. One of the talks I went to was called "Slow Church,"   about how very, very long it takes to establish yourself in a community and to listen to what the community needs, to respond authentically to those who are there and where God might be leading not necessarily with more programs, but with more attention. As we finish our ninth year together rand enter the tenth, I am grateful for all of you traveling together with our little carnival!

Blessings,
Sara+

(For a longer reflection on this, and to see pictures and links to all the speakers, look at my post on my own blog.)

Called to Rejoice: Equal Marriage, Step by Step

Dear People of Christ Church,

This week, I'm all aflutter about the decision in my home state of Pennsylvania to allow same sex marriage. Of course, it's been the law in my chosen state for ten years (we moved here in 2004, too, the same year it came through), but this feels different. Pennsylvania is such a big state-the part I'm from is basically Ohio-and while it's may not be such a paradigm shift for Philadelphia, for Erie, this changes a lot.   Admittedly there was something Onion-satire-like about the headline on the Erie Times-News: "Another same sex couple applies for marriage license."

In Massachusetts, this is old news.  Still, there's something about the place where I'm from recognizing the right to marriage for all people that feels healing. My right to marry my spouse was never questioned because my beloved happens to be male, but that is not the case for one of my high school best friends, who had three weddings with her wife-one commitment ceremony, one legal NH civil union (presided over by yours truly), and one party when that civil union became a legal marriage on January 1 2011. Phew. They had to buy a lot of champagne.

Marriage is a sacrament, a gift, and a blessing. There's an old image of the church that imagines us as "the bride of Christ"-this is not an image that I feel particularly drawn toward, but it reminds us that the covenant of marriage is holy-and the failure of the church or the state to extend equal benefits to all is just an injustice.  Of course I believe in separation of church and state, but I also want a wedding I officiate in church to be legal in the eyes of the state. I haven't been to Pennsylvania in years, but I still feel so grateful for this. Judge John Jones, in the PA case wrote, "In the sixty years since Brown was decided, 'separate' has thankfully faded into history, and only 'equal' remains. Similarly, in future generations, the label 'same-sex marriage' will be abandoned, to be replaced simply by 'marriage.' We are a better people than what these laws represent, and it is time to discard them into the ash heap of history"   

This is the country we are becoming; we're not there yet, but slowly, slowly.  This is what we say we'll do in our baptismal covenant: to strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.   With each state where marriage for all becomes a reality, we get just a little closer to making that possible.  Oregon went this week, too. Now, reader, I've been sending this newsletter every week for almost nine years, and perhaps you've read this before. But it's like that parable Jesus tells in Luke 15:

Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, "Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.

Every time, every time there is a victory for peace and justice, we are called to rejoice. So today, I'm rejoicing for those two couples in my hometown who've gotten their marriage licenses.  Easter continues!

Blessings,
Sara+  

This Week with the Supremes

Dear People of Christ Church,

When Bishop Gayle Harris visited us last May, she spent some time with vestry after our service talking about how things are going at Christ Church. We talked about our usual struggles, with people's so-full lives trying to create time apart for prayer and for life together at church. We talked about our successes, about our growth in our community and our very good problem of needing more leaders for children's ministries.  We were stumped, though, when she asked us this question: "How do you party?"

How do we party, indeed? Well, um, ah, there's...coffee hour. And the Christmas Pageant is a little like a party, now that it comes with dinner afterwards. Softball last week was a party, kind of. We used to have a parish picnic (why did we stop doing that?). The fact is, though, that celebration just for its own sake actually isn't a huge part of our life together in an intentional way. The Ladies' Evening Group does have their fun, so special credit goes to Jeanne Hewitt for organizing the last tea, even in such a serious crowd...

I was thinking about this yesterday, in the wide smile I had over seeing the Supreme Court rulings over Proposition 8 (which banned same sex marriage in California, now thrown out) and the repeal of the "Defense of Marriage Act" (a misnomer if ever there were one-thankfully, declared unconstitutional). So, yay! But then I started thinking about all the states where equal marriage may not be a reality for some time to come. And then I thought about the decision yesterday repealing part of the Voting Rights Act, even as racism is so endemic and many people still have difficulty enacting this basic right of American democracy.   And then...and before long I forgot I was celebrating.  Win some, lose some, right? Wrong.

Why is this important?

I think it speaks to a certain tension in the Christian life that we all face, both in our lives individually and in our life together as a parish. There. is. so. much. to. do.  I don't have to tell you that. It can feel a little tricky to step back and look around and just celebrate so much that is good. Shouldn't we use that time to work harder? Shouldn't we be the kind of people who find working to be celebrating?

Maybe, but then there's this:

"The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, "Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners!" Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.' (Matthew11:19)

In this exchange, Jesus is naming the tension-John the Baptist didn't eat or drink, and you said he had a demon. Now I'm here, and you say I'm a drunk.  What gives? In his life, Jesus gave us an example of how to live-how to celebrate and be joyful, how to spend time away in prayer, how to be with those who have nothing, how to love those we disagree with.

So here's my hope. My hope is to find, not some halfway-between middle ground between delight and sorrow where we're too calm and cool to be joyful. My hope is to exult, deeply, with those whose marriages are now recognized by the federal government (in just 13 states, for now).  My hope is also for 37 other states to recognize all marriages, and for Congress to permanently enshrine protection for all voters into the law.  As I hope for those things, I also want to remember to look toward an even deeper joy, a deeper hope, for the reconciliation of all people and all creation with our Creator, with Jesus God's beloved, where we can meet each other freely.   As we heard from Galatians on Sunday, in Christ there is no slave or free, no Jew or Greek, no male or female...no black or white, no straight or gay, not even any conservative or liberal.  And on our way there, I'll pray for wisdom to vindicate both my joy and my sorrow.  Now who's going to be the chair of the party committee?

Blessings,

Sara+

July 16: Celebration

Dear People of Christ Church,

This week, my family and I are spending the week at the Barbara C Harris Camp, our diocesan summer camp (named for Barbara Harris, a bishop in our diocese and the first female bishop in the Anglican Communion) . Noah and I are chaplains, and Isaiah is along for the ride (literally, since I’ve been carrying him around in a little front pack for much of the time). We work on worship--preaching and celebrating the Eucharist—and with the kids’ Bible study and activities. Yesterday I went along with a group of 11 and 12 year olds to beginner horseback riding lessons—church camp is not about church EVERY second, after all. And Isaiah loves the attention from the “big” kids. So we are having a good week.

Last Sunday, we had a great time with Cameron’s baptism and the blessing of our new sprinkler and flowers. We recited parts of a song from St Francis of Assisi, the Canticle of the Sun. We prayed in memory of those who died this year, in thanksgiving for those who gave to fund it, and to the glory of God. Our sexton, Gary, came and gave us a demonstration of the sprinklers, too. Special thanks go to him and to Marcia Luce, who spearheaded the project and was still putting finishing touches on the flowers over the weekend. And thanks to all the team of “Mighty Gardeners” who will continue to weed and maintain all summer! You can see pictures of the event on our website, www.christchurchwaltham.org.

On the other side of the ocean, the bishops of the Anglican Communion begin meeting today for the Lambeth Conference, which takes place in England every ten years. I hope you’ll keep the bishops in your prayers this week. Pray for Archbishop Rowan Williams, who presides over the conference and is, I believe, doing his best to keep us all together. The fact that no one (myself included) seems entirely happy with his decisions tells me that he must be doing a good job. Please also pray for Bishop Gene Robinson of New Hampshire. He was not invited to the conference itself, but has still traveled to England to meet people and try to have some kind of dialogue. Bishop Robinson just wants to be a bishop—not the “gay bishop,” not a troublemaker, just a pastor to his people. At one event, he took questions and said that he wished everyone could come visit him in his diocese where, he said, “90 percent of the time” he is performing diocesan tasks and can often be found “in a church basement with a macaroni salad.”

While it is true that our Church faces some serious challenges, parishes across the globe are staying faithful to their ministries and trying to seek and serve Christ in the people around them. It might seem odd to bless things like a boiler (as we did last year) or a sprinkler system like we did on Sunday. I think, though, that we have to take all the opportunities we can to celebrate what we have and what we are doing together. Tragedy makes room for itself—it squeezes in and derails our predictable wants. But we have to pay more attention to those times for celebration. They can too easily dart by us before we realize.

So Gene Robinson eats his pasta salad, and we bless our flowers, and the kids at camp sing to Jesus with guitars and drums and hand motions, and the church moves forward.
Thanks be to God.

Sabbath (6 21 07)

This post is from June of 2007, but like today's piece, it's also about Sabbath so I thought I'd post it here.

A blessed first day of summer to you!

After the solstice, our days start getting shorter and we begin the long journey toward the dark days of December, when winter officially begins and the light begins to come again. On a day like today, though, those cold, dark New England nights that start at 4:30 pm seem impossibly distant. But for now, it’s summer, and our paces slow and we rest and play.

Play is important—just look at any baby, and you can see that their play is the way they learn. Isaiah can reach for a toy, now—something he couldn’t have done three weeks ago, when his little hands just groped wildly in the air. And play is important for us, to unhinge from anxiety and stress and recover ourselves. Rest is important, too, maybe even more so. It’s not slacking, or laziness, but part of our calling as spiritual beings. The New Zealand prayer book translates psalm 127 like this: “It is but lost labor that we haste to rise up early, and so late take rest, and eat the bread of anxiety. For those beloved of God are given gifts even while they sleep.”

Gifts from God, even as you sleep!

But our Christian tradition has lost sight of the importance of Sabbath. We are so intent in our culture on being productive, on having something to show for ourselves. “Empty hands are the devil’s playground,” our grandmothers taught us. But it’s only with empty hands that we can accept what God has to give us.

We “eat the bread of anxiety;” the psalm cites it as an intentional act. We get caught up and forget that we choose the way we live our lives. Even in our “time off,” we go shopping, we consume things we don’t need. We want, at the end of the day, to say that we did something. But what would it be like if you just didn’t do anything? If you put aside all the things that people expect of you, that you expect from yourself, all those needs and random wants? What if you came before God with empty hands and a silent mind and just prayed for them to be filled with God’s quiet and love?

Important, too, is how your Sabbath impacts those around you. The meaning of Sabbath is rigorously outlined in the Old Testament for the Jews to follow—Sabbath is part of the law. But the implications of Sabbath aren’t just for the Jews. They are commanded not to work, not just for themselves but so that their slaves and their animals also don’t work. Sabbath extends outward from one person through to the community. “Six days you shall do your work, but on the seventh day you shall rest, so that your ox and your donkey may have relief, and your homeborn slave and the resident alien may be refreshed.” (Exodus 23: 12) Of course, we are reading now in Galatians about how Christ came to take us out from under the law. How much more readily does God receive our rest when it’s given freely, rather than commanded? Take a moment and give God the gift of your rest, and see how your receive God’s grace in return.