Simple Creatures

Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, I'm bracing for a little madness. For the first time, we're doing Blessing of Animals in the service-plus children's choir, plus children's sermon. Like having church outside, this is a day for liturgical experimentation.  There is a lot of space in the Anglican/Episcopal tradition to communicate local culture; our music, our prayers, our language all express the identity of the community in some way.  This is one of the things I love most about being an Episcopalian; there is so much space for particularity even in the structured form of our service.  We always open with a declaration of the Trinity. We always close with a charge to go out in the name of the Spirit or the name of Christ to love and serve.  In between, we hear Scripture; we interpret it in some way, whether with a traditional sermon or other response.  We bless bread and wine, we eat and drink to remember and participate in the Body of Christ. 

Even working within those parameters, a lot is possible. In November we'll have our Jazz Mass, and, yes, this Sunday, blessing of animals. At the moment, my family has no pets-both Noah and I grew up with cats, and had one brief experiment with dog ownership (those who were members back in 2009 will remember the ill-fated  Cyrus, my St Bernard puppy who got cancer at age 1).  So I'm hopeful that each of you will bring your companions, either in the flesh or a photo. Our beloved "Lemon Bear" will probably make an appearance as well, since stuffed animals can come, too. 

We bless animals around October 4, St Francis Day, in memory of a saint who was said to be so connected to nature that he preached to the birds and tamed a wild and fearsome wolf.  Francis also offers a tradition of simple living, even more important for us now in such a time of ecological crisis. We are constantly burdened by more and more stuff, stuff that seems to multiply on its own when we aren't looking. As a parent I struggle with this a lot; whenever a birthday rolls around, there's the impulse to mark it with more, more more-but after just a few good garage sales this September, my kids have already stacked their closets full of more toys.  It's not even just about spending money; stuff is cheap. 

But stuff won't warm a cold lap, stuff won't offer a vision of sheer joy in play and creaturely delight.  So, as un-simple an endeavor it may seem to be, my hope is that this crazy idea of having pets in church will help connect us to that Franciscan simplicity.  A pet isn't "for" anything.  They fulfill no function other than to be in community with us. We care for them out of sheer grace and generosity. In offering thanks and praying blessings for these creatures in particular, hopefully our hearts will be moved to act on behalf of creatures everywhere, to make our lives a bit greener and our world a bit healthier.  We aren't separate from nature, but rather vital members of a profoundly complex ecosystem. We are creatures with needs before wants, given life by a Creator who longs for us to know the difference.

Blessings,
Sara+

Growth and The Great Commission

On Sunday, we were sad to share the news that Mary Bonnyman passed away last Thursday afternoon at Epoch, where she'd been staying for some time. Her granddaughter, Chrissie, was with her, and she'd had a good day. She was 95. The service for Mary will be this Saturday at 11 AM. She'll be buried later this summer in her family's plot in her native Nova Scotia.

In our "GPS" meetings, we've been talking about growth; what does it mean to grow? Do we want to? It feels like we're supposed to want to, but it can also feel good to be in a church where you know everyone. Is it OK to just want to be sustainable, with enough people and money to accomplish the things we want to do? Of course, there aren't really simple answers to any of these things. It's hard when things change--even positive changes. The Great Commission, which ends the Gospel of Matthew, tells us we have to. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (28:19-20).

Unfortunately, a lot of terrible things in Christian history have happened in the name of the Great Commission. In her excellent Pentecost letter, our Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, talks about how, "in their search for uniformity, our forebears in the faith have repeatedly done much spiritual violence in the name of Christianity," giving examples of the suppression of Native American cultural practices which, theologically, are congruent with Christian orthodoxy but made missionaries personally uncomfortable. Too often, that kind of missionary work ends up being a dividing line, with "Good Christian" on one side of the line, and "Condemned Heathen" on the other. And almost always in that scheme, the "Good Christians" are all supposed to think and act the same.

The good news is that it doesn't have to be this way. We don't have to be old-style missionaries who travel the world (or stand with sandwich board signs on the street corner) telling people to repent. But we are still called to share our faith. I was talking with Noah about this the other day and he put it rather starkly: "If my faith is important to me, and I don't share it with others, then I'm saying 'this wonderful thing is MINE, and you can't have it."

Instead, we can share our faith out of the example of our lives--how we are changed, how we learn generosity, and peace, and kindness and justice--and how we are fed, forgiven, and loved.

But what happens when people actually take us up on it? If everyone invited a friend to church, and our sleepy summer services ended up with as many people as Easter Sunday? What would that feel like? Are we ready to open our arms to just anybody? I hope so, and I also hope that when we do talk about growth, that we can get out from under the financial imperative. Yes we need more pledges. Yes we need to grow to support our building and our staff. But we also need to grow because it's part of our faith. Spiritually, I believe we are called to a kind of "holy instability" when it comes to our communities, because they don't just belong to us. We need to always be facing outward toward the world to welcome in that world. It needs what we have!

We need to take care of ourselves, too--but the good news is that we can do both at the same time. We can take care of ourselves by having a potluck supper and games night at the same time as we make that event Bring a Friend to Church party. It's not a zero-sum game, where being open to others means not taking care of ourselves. There's enough grace, and space, for everyone when we realize that it's not our job to provide it--it's God's. And God can always come up with enough for everyone.

Blessings,
Sara+

For Bishop Katharine's Pentecost letter, click here.
Her letter is a response to Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, whose own Pentecost letter was a sort of reprimand of the American Church--For Diana Butler Bass' very good analysis of the conflict, "The REAL Reason for the Anglican-Episcopal Divide" click here. She points out that recent disagreements over sexuality are actually disagreements about how Anglicanism works--and what kind of church we want to be.

A Poem of Thanksgiving

I hope you will be able to enjoy the beautiful day we are having here in Waltham. As the days get longer and the sun shines brighter, you can feel that Easter is coming. This Sunday’s Gospel tells about of the raising of Lazarus; his story is a mini-Easter in the midst of Lent, as Jesus calls him out of the tomb. “Lazarus, come out!” and so he does.

In the light of Christ’s resurrection, every death becomes a festival of Easter. This Saturday we’ll gather at 11:00 to celebrate the life of Marguerite McCullough (mother of Sally Lobo, grandmother to Alison Coates and Meredith Larade, and great grandmother to all of their children), who died this week. We pray for all of her family and in thanksgiving for the gifts she gave in her life.

This week, I’d like to share with you a poem I wrote when I was on retreat in January. I’m not sure how Lenten it is, but I hope you enjoy it.

This is my prayer for this week.

The prayer of enough.
That I pray enough.

That it is a life lived toward prayer, even if not always

(aware of being)

in prayer.

That that seeking is

miraculously

gloriously

Enough!

The blue jay in his blue

Enough!

Trees without their leaves
Enough!

Tea with honey

Enough!

A path swept clear

Enough!

Grace, made perfect

Power made perfect

In weaknesss, and small small signs

of enough.

To be enough, always and already,

That is the grace

To know it and give thanks,

That is the glory.

To sing and to pray,

That is the gift.

Blessings,

Sara+