Prayers for the Church in Zimbabwe

This week, I wanted to share some news of our bishop, The Rt. Rev M. Thomas Shaw, SSJE. The SSJE means that he’s a monk—a brother in the Society of St John the Evangelist, a monastery in Cambridge (SSJE is a great resource—see www.ssje.org for more on their ministries). Bishop Shaw is our diocesan bishop, and his work is supported by two suffragan (assisting) bishops, The Rt. Revs Gayle Harris and Bud Cederholm. Gayle will be visiting us next fall, in September (she was also here in the spring of 2006), and Bud was here in March of 2007.

Tom just came back from a trip to Zimbabwe, taken at the request of our Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori and with the invitation of Sebastian Bakare of the Diocese of Harare. This is from his statement about the trip:
I was asked to travel to Harare to express the church’s solidarity with our Anglican brothers and sisters in the Diocese of Harare who are under profound oppression and to gather information for the presiding bishop about the political situation there. I interviewed some 50 priests, lay people and human rights lawyers in Harare over the course of my one week stay. I can report that the situation in Zimbabwe is indeed grave. There are widespread violations of human rights, daily reports of murder and torture and an economic and humanitarian crisis of enormous proportions. The inflation rate is one million percent and unemployment ranges between 80-90%. There are long lines for gas and at banks, limited electricity and clean water and virtually empty shelves in supermarkets. . . . Thousands of Anglican worshipers have been locked out of their churches, their church properties have been occupied by government-backed allies and their personal automobiles have been confiscated. A local priest must move from house to house every night to avoid possible arrest. A nine-year-old boy and a widowed mother of five children were beaten by police for failing to leave the church site.

In an article in the Boston Globe about his trip, Bishop Shaw talked about the inspirational faith of the Church there:
Sunday I went to this really poor township, and over 400 people were worshiping in this yard of this person's house, spilling out into the road. It was an unbelievable experience. The enthusiasm, the joy that these people have is pretty profound. . . I preached about the fact that they are not isolated in the Anglican Communion, and that there were literally millions of people around the globe that . . . are praying for them…. And I preached about that they were a real model for the rest of us around the world, in the way that they are standing up against oppression, and not letting it get in the way of their worship for God.

We’ll hear more about the international church in the coming weeks as Anglican bishops across the globe prepare to travel to the Lambeth Conference, a meeting of all the bishops that happens every ten years (the conference is from July 16 to August 3). Please take a moment now to pray for Christians everywhere, especially the church in Zimbabwe, and for fair elections there later this month.

For a short video and the Boston Globe article, visit http://www.boston.com/news/world/africa/articles/2008/06/06/bishop_finds_flock_tormented_in_zimbabwe/?page=full

For more background on the situation for the Anglican Church in Zimbabwe, see
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/05/16/world/africa/16zimbabwe.html?sq=zimbabwe%20anglican&st=cse&scp=1&pagewanted=all

Eating Locally (from March, 2007)

God said, ‘See, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food. And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food.’ And it was so. God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. (Genesis 1: 29-31)

This week, a lot of events around environmental issues and food have come across my desk. Earth day isn’t until April 22, but a lot of things are happening now. You can see some of the events listed below. On a very close-to-home note, Waltham Fields Community Farm is selling shares in their Community Supported Agriculture Program. I don’t think I’ve every used this space to encourage you consider buying anything, so I hope you’ll excuse it just this once.

Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) is a movement that started here in Massachusetts in an effort to help local farmers, the environment, and to improve food quality. Right here in Waltham, on Beaver Street, Waltham Fields Community Farm grows a wide variety of vegetables (some fruits, but mostly veggies). As a CSA shareholder, you take on a portion of the risk—and the benefit—of your local farm. Noah and I were shareholders for the first time last year—some of you may have heard me talk about it. You pay a fee for the season and pick up delicious, fresh vegetables and fruit for 20 weeks, from June to October. You also get “pick your own” privileges on the farm for special treats like cherry tomatoes, strawberries, herbs, and flowers. The food is delicious and an excellent value (about 20 dollars a week for enough veggies to feed 2 adults and children, plus leftovers—one week we had ten pounds of tomatoes!). Moreover, the positive environmental impact of eating locally and pesticide-free is tremendous. (WCF, while they use organic practices, are not officially certified “organic.”)

Have you ever considered how much energy it takes to drive a cucumber from California to Massachusetts? A lot! Why do that, when we can grow cucumbers right here? Remember that E. coli bacteria scare last year when the California spinach was contaminated, but the farm and packaging systems were so large it took weeks to figure out where the illness came from? By eating straight from the farm, such risks are significantly minimized. And it tastes better, too. A tomato that was harvested last week has significantly more flavor than one that was picked before it was ripe, and spent weeks in a truck or grocery store distribution center. In addition to which, WCF donates hundreds of pounds of food to local hunger relief organizations. (If you were at the Waltham Interfaith Thanksgiving service last November, you heard from Janet, who distributes vegetables at the Salvation Army).

Of course, being a CSA member isn’t the only way to respond to environmental food issues. Buying from the Waltham farmers market has much of the same impact, without the commitment to the whole growing season and up front financial investment. But I have to say, visiting the farm every week and seeing and smelling the ground where your food came from is simply a spiritual experience. As modern people, it is easy for us to lose sight of how God’s creation nourishes us directly, and how intimately we really are connected to God’s creation. We are given dominion over the earth, but we are also charged to be caretakers. We each have a part to play in that work.

For more on the farm, visit http://www.communityfarms.org/ or call 781-899-2403.

If you’re interested in hearing more about the impact of local food systems, ask one of our youth. Last October, we spent the day at the Lincoln Food Project, another local farm that works for hunger relief and local agriculture

Question Authority

This past Sunday for our usual first-Sunday-of-the-month children’s service at Christ Church, our youth group took parts of our service. Thanks to Caroline Beermann, who lead a reflection with the children, Emma Scalisi who read the Gospel, Devon Franklin who wrote and read the Prayers of the People, and MaryAnn Murray, who lead the psalm and read the second reading. Thanks, too, to Suzanne Hughes, our talented youth group leader (who is also our very talented treasurer) who shepherded them in their preparations for the day.

It didn’t occur to me at the time, but the readings were especially appropriate for a young person to reflect on. There’s one line, which on reading the text for the first time it’s easy to skip over: Now when Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as their scribes. Watching Caroline sit with our kids, I was struck by how important it must be for kids to see other kids in leadership—in the same way as it was important for me to have a woman priest growing up, to see that I could do that, too. Our kids need to have that example of being included in the leadership and witness of God in this church. Caroline had the authority to teach with them because she is a member of this community. We have something to learn from everyone. Caroline talked about how the authority of Jesus came from love—not (and here I’m extending what she said a little) from the power of institutional authority or worldly respect, like the scribes.

Authority is a tricky thing—I once had a bumper sticker that said, “Question Authority.” Of course, anyone who has ever been sixteen years old probably feels that sentiment at one time or another, but I don’t think it’s just about adolescent rebellion. Being a Christian is about trying to see how God sees, not how the world sees—and that means that status in the world is not of ultimate value. It can be nice to be successful in the world’s eyes, but it’s not what we’re called to do. In his letter to the Galatians Paul writes: Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant^* of Christ. (Gal 1: 10)

But we want to be nice. We want to have others’ approval. We want, especially, to have the approval of those who can benefit us. We judge each other. And so we might be more interested in talking to the well-dressed person at coffee hour than the one who looks like they slept outside. We want our kids to be friends with the “right” kind of people. We stereotype people, categorizing them by sexual orientation, race, gender, politics. I know I do this—I feel so strongly about the things I believe, sometimes it can be hard to imagine that any sane person could disagree. Do they have their heads in the sand? Are they blind? Or am I?

A bishop can be respected for his or her depth of education, or experience, or sensitivity, but God’s love is not any more present with those wearing purple shirts than with those wearing sarcastic T shirts or dirty overcoats. The Gospel is just as likely to be heard out of the mouth of a teenager as it is the archbishop, however many more resources he might have at his disposal to articulate them. The challenge to each of us, of course, is to listen.

A new ministry at Christ Church

This week I’d like to use this column to invite you into a new ministry that is in formation here at Christ Church. First, I’d like to share a passage of Scripture with you.

Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family you did it to me.” (Matthew 34-40)

This passage reminds us that when we take action for justice and mercy for each other, we are being just and merciful to the face of Christ in each other—something we promise in our baptismal covenant, as we promise to “Seek and serve Christ in all persons.” Christ Church has a number of parishioners who have difficulty coming to church, who would love to have a visit from a fellow Christ Church-er. Would you be willing to visit with someone? We’ll begin with a short training on Saturday, June 28, from 9 to 11. We’ll talk about the spirituality of the ministry, as well as some practical instruction. One aspect of this ministry will be bringing communion to homebound persons. Those who desire can become certified Eucharistic visitors, so they would be able to bring the sacrament with them on their visits (If you’d prefer not to, that’s OK)

As a priest, I do good amount of pastoral visiting (of course no pastor ever gets to as many visits as he or she hopes to), and I’m always struck by how welcoming and enriching these visits are for me. In ministry it is a cliché to say that the minister is actually the one being ministered to, but it’s still frequently true. People have such deep wisdom to share with each other, and it’s so rare that we actually sit down just to listen to another person. Please let me know if you’d like to join this ministry, or if you’d like to have someone come to visit you.

Sabbath

Last Sunday, one of our texts was from the Book of Genesis.

And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation (Genesis 2:4)

God rested. As God rested, so we, too, are invited into rest.

At Christ Church, things are winding down for the summer. We had our last Tuesday evening Eucharist and class last night, and this Sunday we’ll have one 9 AM service instead of both 8 and 10. The choir and Sunday School will go on break until fall, too.

Why do we do this? Most churches do some kind of reduced schedule over the summer, but it’s still a good question. It’s not as though God goes on vacation. God does, I guess, in the sense that God is also with us on our vacations, and so God will be found hiking and going to art museums when we do. There are some concrete reasons for the change—since people do go on vacation, attendance goes down in the summer. Having everyone all together for worship gives us more people to celebrate with at once. It’s also true that it can get pretty warm in the church, and it’s cooler at 9 than it is at 10.

But there’s another reason, too. I think we need a Sabbath, even at church, to help us all slow down a little. Our Sunday school teachers work so hard, and our choir practices so diligently, and, yes, I’ll admit that I do look forward to just having one service to lead as well. Worship is beautiful, and worship can help us escape the sometimes relentless pace of contemporary life, but if we lose our sense of mindfulness, church can become just one more commitment. We need a time where everything gets a little simplified, where we can take a break and recharge for the activities that will come soon enough.

Rabbi Abraham Heschel talks about the Sabbath as the sanctification of time. The created world is good, but it is not eternal. Only time is called “holy” in creation—not the waters, or the birds, or even human beings. We enter into holiness in time, not space.

Heschel writes. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation, from the world of creation to the creation of the world.

As the days get longer and the weather warmer, it feels like all creation is inviting us out to reconnect with God, to sit for a moment with that mystery and enjoy the creatureliness of our selves, like tender green shoots turning toward the sun.

So now put down your calendar.

Put down your cell phone.

Turn off the computer.

And now go outside to play.

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.

From May 15: Presence and Pain

Again, this week, I find myself in a place of lament.

As I picked my son, Isaiah, up at daycare yesterday NPR broadcast a story of a family finding out that their 2 year old and elderly parents had died in the collapse of their apartment building. (see link below) The story began by introducing us to the couple, and told of the woman leaving for work at a department store leaving her son with his grandparents. The baby cried and wanted to come along, but she left him, and minutes later the earthquake struck. It’s every parent’s nightmare—“I should have brought him with me!”—come vividly and terribly true. The NPR host spoke with them as the excavation equipment began working, and they hoped against hope to find the boy. Finally, a rescue worker brought the news that they had found the bodies of an elderly man cradling a small boy, with an older woman right beside. The couple dissolved in tears, and as I drove, Isaiah staring contently out the window, I did, too—all of the frustration of the day dissolved away. I was with that woman who had lost her child.

I had been late to get Isaiah—I rode my bike to church but discovered as I was leaving that the tire was completely flat, so I set off to walk home—just over 2 miles, to retrieve the car and pick him up. On the walk, I’d been hurried and occupied, but also startlingly aware (as I had also been riding my bike that morning and the day before) at how little I actually perceive as I go about my day. Driving, I am so intent on speed—getting through the next stop light, getting in the correct lane to go fast, fast, fast. Time in the car is wasted time, the reasoning goes, and so I want to minimize the waste. Logical, right?

The thing is that time in the car isn’t wasted time—there is no wasted time. The only wasted time is time that we spend spiritually being somewhere else. The only waste is our absence from our own lives. Slowing down by riding my bike or walking allowed me to perceive what I’ve always “seen,” but never noticed.

We so frequently don’t engage with what’s around us. News on the radio of bombs going off in faraway places, of disasters and terror, don’t touch us. We go about hurrying, on to the next task before having completed the last. Hearing about that couple in China who had lost their baby, I was put in mind of all of the people who have lost children and parents both in China and in Myanmar and places of desperation all over the globe and close to home. I’ve listened to all the reports of thousands dead, but wasn’t able to actually hear it until I was invited into the story of a single family. I was able to be present in a way that had escaped me before, just as my unexpected walk home from work helped me to see what I never do.

It’s a deeper truth than just “stopping to smell the roses” (lilacs in this case). Being a Christian is about being present both to the pleasure as well as the pain that is all around us. Being a Christian is about being open to God, and God is to be found in the depth of the present. As I walked past the lilacs and wisteria on Bacon Street yesterday afternoon, God seemed everywhere. As I cried for that family in China, God, too, came near. The challenge of the Christian life is to be willing to bear witness to all that life offers us. We all have ears to hear—will we have the courage?