Thoughts on faith and life from Sara Irwin, rector at Christ Episcopal Church in Waltham, Massachusetts (www.christchurchwaltham.org). Published weekly.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
From March 21: Archbishop of Canterbury
Dear Peopl of Christ Church:
We have an Archbishop!
No, it’s not worldwide-leader envy, we really do have a new Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, who succeeds Rowan Williams, who served from 2002 to 2012. And while he has no “authority” in the usual power-over sense vis a vis the Episcopal Church in the US, he is still the symbolic head of the Anglican Communion, of which we are a part and, thereby, our Archbishop. He was “enthroned” today, and there’s an excellent BBC article that describes the service and links to a photo gallery and other info about him. here –you can also read the 40 page bulletin from the service here.
A former oil executive, he comes from a much more evangelical background than Rowan Williams, and has five children and was only ordained priest in his mid thirties—he was bishop of Durham for less than a year before being chosen Archbishop. He is said to have particular gifts in reconciliation, and he will need them. I’ve written over the years quite a bit about our place as Episcopalians in the global Anglican Church, and today, I have to say that I care both more and less than I used to (see the ecrier blog ).
I’m still trying to clean the beautiful red Tanzanian dust out of my formerly black Sunday morning shoes, and of course the people who I met there---truly brothers and sisters in faith—are part of the reason I find myself caring more about Anglicanism. At the same time, I have to say I also care less—the institutional formality of how we are related and what it means is just not part of what Anglicanism means to me. What it means is that our Holy Week services go all the way back to the early church. What it means is that worship in our own language is important. What it means is that we have a generosity of belief that encompasses disagreement on matters theological as well as political (as well as the vast majority which are both). We can also all think it’s kind of cool that he’s being officially installed by a woman (though ironically the English church doesn’t even have female bishops) and that he sat on a 1,000 year old “throne” and kissed a 1,500 year old book as part of the service. That’s our heritage over here, too. But for once I’m not going to stress over who’s in and who’s out, or who’s on what “side” of history. So I’m happy to take Archbishop Justin on those terms (and follow him @ABCJustin and check out the twitters at #ABC105)—enjoy the show!
Speaking of the show!
Don’t miss out on Palm Sunday and Holy Week! Better than a “show,” this Sunday and next week we walk through the last week of Jesus, participating in our faith in a way that is always new and always the same. Read more about those liturgies here.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
From March 14: Pope Francis
Habemus Papum!
We have a pope.
Or is it Habent-They have a pope?
Yesterday as soon as I heard there was white smoke coming out of the Vatican, we turned on the radio in the office and I was glued to twitter and facebook to see who it would be. I've not studied Latin, but I appreciated a tweet from a friend that explained the difference between habemus and habent-because fascinated as I was, I don't, at the end of the day, tend to include myself in the "we" of pope-having.
For Anglicans, the pope was one of the reasons to break away. Clearly his motives were mixed, but when King Henry VIII wanted to locate the center of his church where the church itself was, part of the goal was to localize. The idea that someone far away was making decisions and declarations about what was supposed to be happening in England-at that time, for all intents and purposes, Rome was on the other side of the world-was a big incentive to creating a self-sustained church. We're doing the Intro to the Episcopal Church class on Sundays in April, and one of the first ways I begin to explain what Anglicanism is is to say how it's all just "closer to the ground" than the Roman Catholic Church. The church in the United States is self-governing in its way, and our own diocese again is more homegrown. Not even the Presiding Bishop, who in other provinces of the church would be called an "archbishop," can "make" us do anything. When our diocese chose the first female bishop in the world, with Bishop Barbara C Harris' historic election in 1989, nobody anywhere could tell us that we couldn't. Not to mention that all bishops are elected by both clergy and lay people, so the "conclave" idea is pretty different from the way we do things.
Still, there's really only one bishop of Rome-one pope-and just because I'm not a Roman Catholic, I'm still a catholic, small "c," as in the "one holy catholic and apostolic Church," praying to be one in Christ with everyone who seeks God and tries to follow Jesus. In that context, "catholic" just means "universal"-whatever institutional barriers we may erect, we are still one church, and we draw our identity from the earliest believers in the same way as the Roman Catholic Church does. Politically and theologically, I would dearly love it if Pope Francis got up tomorrow and said, "OK, the gays and the ladies are in," but, as one of you commented on my facebook page, "the pope is still Catholic." There's lots of sexism and lots of prejudice against GLBT persons everywhere in society-in our own wider church as well-and we are not less brothers and sisters with those with whom we disagree about those issues.
And there is a lot that is intriguing about this new pope. As a Jesuit, he's part of an order of priests that has seen its share of dissension with Rome. As an person of faith and a church leader, he's modeled his life in simplicity. He didn't live in the fancy bishop's residence in Argentina; he has his own small apartment, and apparently even cooked his own meals (!). He visited an AIDS hospice and kissed the feet of patients there. Coming out to address the crowds, he kept his usual cassock and cape on, and didn't wear the vestments that had been made for him. After he prayed with the crowd-and he prayed with the people, asking them to pray for him as well-he took the bus back to the hotel, not the papal car. And then he went to go pay his bill at the hotel himself! So far, it sounds like he's doing things his own way, and I am interested to see what more he will do. The fact that he's from Argentina (though born to Italian parents) also signifies a shift; Europe isn't the center of the world anymore
Sister Simone Campbell from the "Nuns on the bus" nationwide tour last year to promote the church's mission on social justice (in particular in response to Paul Ryan's proposed budget that would slash social-welfare programs) tweeted, "Pope Francis brings hope & care for the poor. He can come join us on the bus!" So I'm inclined to say that if he gets the pro-justice imprimatur from Sister Simone, he can have it from me, too.
This Sunday, we'll pray for Pope Francis, and for all God's people, of all faiths, throughout the world.
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Bishop Robinson's Retirement
This week, I have been praying for Gene Robinson and the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire. As we celebrated our own diocesan convention in Lynn last Saturday, Dio NH also had theirs, and received the news that Bishop Robinson would be retiring in 2013. (look for something in our Quarterly newsletter about our own Convention from one of our representatives, Mike Balulescu)
Bishop Robinson was elected in 2003 and consecrated in 2004, which brought to head global conflicts that had been stirring for some time about the interpretation of Scripture on the topic of homosexuality. In his remarks, he talked about how he always appreciated the people of New Hampshire-He said "New Hampshire is always the place I remain, simply, 'the Bishop.' This is the one place on earth where I am not 'the gay Bishop." That evening, I received a call from the Boston Globe looking for comments (apparently I am the only Episcopalian who answers their phone after 9 pm on Saturdays), and got quoted the next day in the paper. When asked about the dispute in the church, I said it was "tragic"-and since I saw it in print, I've really struggled with what that means.
Is it, in fact, tragic? I think the means of the schism are tragic in a way that the ends are not. What's tragic is thinking about so much actual ministry that could have happened over the last ten years if we hadn't been bickering. Tragedy is a gay teenager killing himself. Tragedy is a mother being unable to nurse a baby because she doesn't have enough food to eat. It is sad when people who had been in communion are no longer, but it's probably not a full-on tragedy. What is perplexing about all of this as well is that these moves to enforce some kind of centralized orthodoxy are completely contrary to the theological spirit of Anglicanism that has served us so well for hundreds of years. In the overall scheme of things, 100,000 people have left the Episcopal Church in the US over this issue, but over 2 million have stayed. And how many of you are here because you want to be part of a church that recognizes the ministry of all people? How many of you feel loved by each other even though you may disagree about some things?
On Tuesday, in our politics and faith conversation we talked about why it's so hard to be civil when we disagree; in our conversation I think we managed to do so, even with people on opposite sides of some issues. In this polarized world though, we have found ourselves dividing-or being pushed-into separate corners. Hopefully, a church is a place where we can recognize each other's humanity and love each other without having to agree perfectly on every issue. There is, after all, that whole "made in the image of God" idea-it applies to everyone, whatever our opinions.
In an interview with NPR yesterday, Bishop Gene talked about how the opposition he's received-even death threats-have in some ways strengthened his faith. "Believing in the Resurrection... death is not the worst thing. Not living your life, that's the worst thing."
Let's all pray for the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire and Bishop Gene as they move forward in the last chapters of their ministry together.
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Jubilee Ministries (from June 2007)
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.