Dear People of Christ Church,
This week we had a terrific first “Intro to the Episcopal Church” class, with about 9 people gathered to talk about our questions, curiosities, and longings for God’s “new thing” happening in our spiritual lives. It’s so exciting to see how the parish changes and grows—almost none of the 9 people gathered at that table were members a year ago, and there they all were, from Catholic and Evangelical and Lutheran and Methodist and all backgrounds in between. This thing that is the church is a living body, not a building or a list of names.
In my sermon on Sunday I was talking about how, in the Gospels we hear the story of Jesus being Jesus Christ, in the book of Acts, which we read every Sunday in Easter season, we hear the story of the church becoming the church. Rather than one single appointed leader taking the place of Jesus, it’s the church—the whole gathered body—that takes on his ministry and presence in the world. Peter and Paul and Mary Magdalene were all important, but it wasn’t just one of them who carried on the work of God in the risen Christ…that takes a whole church.
The church is the Body of Christ, and it needs all of us to be that.
God in the church needs the curiosity of those returning to faith after a time away.
God in the church needs the hunger for community of those who are looking for a place of transcendence and belonging.
God in the church needs the attentiveness to justice and peace of those who dare to ask the hard questions and sit with the hard answers.
God in the church needs your passion for the environment, for children, for elders.
Maybe most important, and first, God in the church needs just your presence. God needs your love, your reverence, your longing for stillness and simplicity.
This past Sunday in our Episcopal Church class we talked about how the basic impulse of Anglicanism, all the way back to King Henry VIII and his somewhat sketchy motivations, is about trying to dwell closer to the ground. In our governance, in our thinking, in our theology, we are all about trying to think and pray in response to the world as it is. When Christ Church developed our parish vision statement a number of years ago we settled on a description of the parish as “grounded in tradition, yet open to the world.” This Sunday, we’ll hear the story in Acts about how the early church grappled with its diversity—Jews and non-Jews didn’t eat together, ever, in ordinary life, much less form a whole community around sharing a meal! But God gives the church a vision of broad inclusion that makes space for every kind of person and every kind of food. One of the best lines in all of Scripture is in this story—“Who was I to hinder God?” Who are we to hinder God? Where is God breaking through your barriers and obstacles this week? Where are you becoming more deeply part of God’s church that needs all of you?
Blessings,
Sara+
Showing posts with label Anglicanism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anglicanism. Show all posts
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Being and Doing Together
Dear People of Christ Church,
With the Baptism of Jesus, we’re swimming in the epiphany waters if the revelation of Jesus Christ as God’s beloved Son. Beloved, delighted in, enjoyed, God’s own longed- for firstborn.
Jesus, at this point, hasn’t done anything at all in his ministry. He has not taught anything of particular note, or called any smart people into community around him, or healed any diseases. The only ones who thinks he’s special at all at this point are John the Baptist and his mom. Still, the heavens are torn open by the voice of God. Throughout Epiphany, we’ll hear stories about where God’s power is made manifest in Jesus’ ministry—where there are epiphanies of all kinds, those desired as well as those never dreamed of.
For many of us, the question of our baptism never really comes up: sure, we say all the right words when the church “does” a baptism for a new member. But this beginning of the season of Epiphany invites us to ask ourselves what, really, our baptism means. It’s the foundation of our life in Christ, but what is it, really? Most often, it’s easy to skip forward to the action our baptism calls us toward, all of that seeking and serving and respecting and believing. We don’t often take the time to dwell and ground ourselves in what we become in baptism. Remember that Jesus didn’t do anything at all to earn the love of God or that holy voice on that day. Also consider this: the first thing Jesus does when he is baptized isn’t to run out do a bunch of things. Ministry comes later. Jesus goes to the wilderness to be loved, for time with his Abba (the time we practice in our tradition as Lent). In baptism, we are called by God’s grace just to allow God to love us. Not in spite of who we are, but because of it.
Church, it may go without saying, is a community centered around baptism. We are baptized, we do baptism. We live out our baptism. Eucharist recalls us to our baptism. Even the rite for burial recalls us to our baptism. It’s our thing. Being One with God in Christ.
If that’s our mission, becoming One with God in Christ, that shifts priorities in a certain way. Our parish vision statement is a reasonable picture of a community living out the baptismal covenant, but I wonder if there are ways we can more deeply welcome each other into a new life of faith in a more profound way. Our annual meeting is in one week from Sunday. In that meeting, we’ll talk about our hope for the future as well as celebrate our accomplishments. The format will be some small group conversation, some larger group listening, and, as always, new Christ Churchers will be invited to sign our membership book (how do you know if this applies to you? If you come regularly and pledge, you’re in.)
How, in 2016, can we be together as well as do together? What are the things that we are called toward in 2016 to pray, to imagine, to invite? How can our be-ing and loving naturally call others to the love of God?
Blessings,
Sara+
Update from the international Anglican primates meeting:
Remember how I mentioned in my sermon how a group of English clergy are calling the Archbishop and the communion to a John the Baptist moment and repent for the church’s treatment of LGBT persons? It did not quite go that way. Instead, the primates (the heads of all the individual Anglican Churches worldwide) decided to suspend the Episcopal Church from Anglican councils and from representing Anglicans as a whole on ecumenical or interfaith bodies, specifically because of the national church vote in July 2015 to make the marriage canons inclusive. See the whole thing at primates2016.org.
Speaking of Baptism, check out what our own Presiding Bishop/Primate, Michael Curry, had to say:
With the Baptism of Jesus, we’re swimming in the epiphany waters if the revelation of Jesus Christ as God’s beloved Son. Beloved, delighted in, enjoyed, God’s own longed- for firstborn.
Jesus, at this point, hasn’t done anything at all in his ministry. He has not taught anything of particular note, or called any smart people into community around him, or healed any diseases. The only ones who thinks he’s special at all at this point are John the Baptist and his mom. Still, the heavens are torn open by the voice of God. Throughout Epiphany, we’ll hear stories about where God’s power is made manifest in Jesus’ ministry—where there are epiphanies of all kinds, those desired as well as those never dreamed of.
For many of us, the question of our baptism never really comes up: sure, we say all the right words when the church “does” a baptism for a new member. But this beginning of the season of Epiphany invites us to ask ourselves what, really, our baptism means. It’s the foundation of our life in Christ, but what is it, really? Most often, it’s easy to skip forward to the action our baptism calls us toward, all of that seeking and serving and respecting and believing. We don’t often take the time to dwell and ground ourselves in what we become in baptism. Remember that Jesus didn’t do anything at all to earn the love of God or that holy voice on that day. Also consider this: the first thing Jesus does when he is baptized isn’t to run out do a bunch of things. Ministry comes later. Jesus goes to the wilderness to be loved, for time with his Abba (the time we practice in our tradition as Lent). In baptism, we are called by God’s grace just to allow God to love us. Not in spite of who we are, but because of it.
Church, it may go without saying, is a community centered around baptism. We are baptized, we do baptism. We live out our baptism. Eucharist recalls us to our baptism. Even the rite for burial recalls us to our baptism. It’s our thing. Being One with God in Christ.
If that’s our mission, becoming One with God in Christ, that shifts priorities in a certain way. Our parish vision statement is a reasonable picture of a community living out the baptismal covenant, but I wonder if there are ways we can more deeply welcome each other into a new life of faith in a more profound way. Our annual meeting is in one week from Sunday. In that meeting, we’ll talk about our hope for the future as well as celebrate our accomplishments. The format will be some small group conversation, some larger group listening, and, as always, new Christ Churchers will be invited to sign our membership book (how do you know if this applies to you? If you come regularly and pledge, you’re in.)
How, in 2016, can we be together as well as do together? What are the things that we are called toward in 2016 to pray, to imagine, to invite? How can our be-ing and loving naturally call others to the love of God?
Blessings,
Sara+
Update from the international Anglican primates meeting:
Remember how I mentioned in my sermon how a group of English clergy are calling the Archbishop and the communion to a John the Baptist moment and repent for the church’s treatment of LGBT persons? It did not quite go that way. Instead, the primates (the heads of all the individual Anglican Churches worldwide) decided to suspend the Episcopal Church from Anglican councils and from representing Anglicans as a whole on ecumenical or interfaith bodies, specifically because of the national church vote in July 2015 to make the marriage canons inclusive. See the whole thing at primates2016.org.
Speaking of Baptism, check out what our own Presiding Bishop/Primate, Michael Curry, had to say:
“Our commitment to be an inclusive church is not based on a social theory or capitulation to the ways of the culture, but on our belief that the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross are a sign of the very love of God reaching out to us all. …Our decision regarding marriage is based on the belief that the words of the Apostle Paul to the Galatians are true for the church today: All who have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male or female, for all are one in Christ.”Please also keep our sisters and brothers from St Peter’s Ugandan Congregation in your prayers, as international conflict like this comes even closer to home for them, and the Archibishop of Uganda did not stay for the whole conference because a provision like suspension wouldn’t go far enough for him.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Tradition, Pageantry, and New Additions to the Christ Church Nave
Dear People of Christ Church,
Blessings on the first days of fall!
I’m excited to share the news that on Monday the Christ Church vestry took a vote, based on parishioner feedback, to adopt the Stations of the Cross from St John the Evangelist, Boston. Marjorie Hartman told me that her father had attended church there when he first came to the United States and that he had always loved the pageantry of the Episcopal Church, eventually leading him to our own Christ Church. That’s the same thing that I loved about St John the Evangelist, too, when I interned in the year 2000/01 before I went to seminary. I was sad to hear that the space was closing as a parish (it’ll become condos, most likely), but I’m so delighted to have a little piece of that sacred place here.
There was a time when the Anglican tradition made a huge fuss about rejecting anything that seemed more in line with the Roman Catholic side of the church. Not politely, such things were dismissed as “popish” idolatry. In the mid 1800s, a group based at Oxford began a revival of heretofore “Catholic” practices, like incense, candles, and more formal ritual, coupled with a commitment to ministry in the city. The response? In 1874 the ‘Public Worship Regulation Act” sent clergy to jail for wearing chasubles (that’s the big tent-like garment worn by the priest at the Eucharist in some churches). Using wafers at communion and water in the wine—all pretty non controversial now—were also suspect.
Kneeling at communion had long been a political question. In 1552 a text was written that came to be known as the “black rubric” because it was pasted in afterwards clarifying that worshippers were to receive communion kneeling, but not to get any ideas about the traditional (Roman Catholic) understanding of transubstantiation: For as concernynge the Sacramentall bread and wyne, they remayne styll in theyr verye naturall substaunces, and therefore may not be adored, for that were Idolatrye to be abhorred of all faythfull christians.
The black rubric has come out of there since then and our Anglican view of what the sacraments mean has broadened, somewhat, and become a little depoliticized. Every church still has their own traditions about their practices, but the wider world just doesn’t view things in those categories quite the same way. Are you “low” church or “high” church? The distinction seems pointless. I hope to lead our worship into good church, to be able to pull out all the stops with incense and bells and all the rest once in a while, but also to be comfortable enough that we understand that our prayer is to help us to give glory to God, not our own performance.
Blessings,
Sara+
Blessings on the first days of fall!
I’m excited to share the news that on Monday the Christ Church vestry took a vote, based on parishioner feedback, to adopt the Stations of the Cross from St John the Evangelist, Boston. Marjorie Hartman told me that her father had attended church there when he first came to the United States and that he had always loved the pageantry of the Episcopal Church, eventually leading him to our own Christ Church. That’s the same thing that I loved about St John the Evangelist, too, when I interned in the year 2000/01 before I went to seminary. I was sad to hear that the space was closing as a parish (it’ll become condos, most likely), but I’m so delighted to have a little piece of that sacred place here.
There was a time when the Anglican tradition made a huge fuss about rejecting anything that seemed more in line with the Roman Catholic side of the church. Not politely, such things were dismissed as “popish” idolatry. In the mid 1800s, a group based at Oxford began a revival of heretofore “Catholic” practices, like incense, candles, and more formal ritual, coupled with a commitment to ministry in the city. The response? In 1874 the ‘Public Worship Regulation Act” sent clergy to jail for wearing chasubles (that’s the big tent-like garment worn by the priest at the Eucharist in some churches). Using wafers at communion and water in the wine—all pretty non controversial now—were also suspect.
Kneeling at communion had long been a political question. In 1552 a text was written that came to be known as the “black rubric” because it was pasted in afterwards clarifying that worshippers were to receive communion kneeling, but not to get any ideas about the traditional (Roman Catholic) understanding of transubstantiation: For as concernynge the Sacramentall bread and wyne, they remayne styll in theyr verye naturall substaunces, and therefore may not be adored, for that were Idolatrye to be abhorred of all faythfull christians.
The black rubric has come out of there since then and our Anglican view of what the sacraments mean has broadened, somewhat, and become a little depoliticized. Every church still has their own traditions about their practices, but the wider world just doesn’t view things in those categories quite the same way. Are you “low” church or “high” church? The distinction seems pointless. I hope to lead our worship into good church, to be able to pull out all the stops with incense and bells and all the rest once in a while, but also to be comfortable enough that we understand that our prayer is to help us to give glory to God, not our own performance.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, May 29, 2014
The Ascension: Belief with Head and Heart
Dear People of Christ Church,
Today is Ascension Day, which you will be forgiven for not realizing as the Thursday 40 days after Easter. It's one of the odder days of observance in the Christian tradition-we'll hear that Scripture from the book of Acts that describes Jesus being lifted up and disappearing into the clouds. It's an important one-for brothers and sisters in Roman Catholic side of the Christian family, it's a holy day of obligation (which in some places can be moved to Sunday, but not, apparently, in Boston.
We affirm the Ascension in the Nicene Creed-quite clearly, we declare that Jesus "ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father." We say this every Sunday. There's something about the literalism of the image-Jesus either did or did not levitate into the sky-that I find particularly difficult. As a doctrine, it solves some intractable issues-how, for example, would Jesus have been buried, and what would we make of his divinity alongside his holy but also mortal and dead body-but in our children's sermon this Sunday I will graciously sidestep whether it actually happened that way.Ascension Day is one of those times that, as I believe God will be gentle with me, I also will be gentle with our tradition. The truth is, I don't know. It seems implausible, but, then again, the whole marvelous story is implausible.
As contemporary believers, we just can't go back to a spatially three tiered universe of heaven, hell, and us in between. We can haz science. Why did Jesus go into the sky? Well, if you think that heaven is "up there," then that makes perfect sense. But the Ascension is much more about Jesus coming "in here."
The resurrection appearances of Jesus were a marvel, but they were also quite localized to a particular band of followers; individually Simon and Peter and James and John might have wanted to keep that exclusive connection to themselves, but Jesus is pretty clear that their relationship with him is not only a personal affair. The ascension is about the transcendence of the risen Christ, about how humanity and divinity are joined in a universal and no longer only particular way. St Gregory of Nazianzus (around 390) said that Christ's ascension is our ascension. Our humanity rose with Christ. That doesn't depend on whether or not Jesus levitated. It doesn't depend on how loudly I say the Creed or whether I am, occasionally, just too doubtful. That depends on so much more that I can't even wrap my brain around it, which, frankly, is a pretty good place for a person of faith to stand. More mystery, less judgment.
Thanks be to God (and the long legacy of Anglicanism) for that.
Blessings,
Sara+
Today is Ascension Day, which you will be forgiven for not realizing as the Thursday 40 days after Easter. It's one of the odder days of observance in the Christian tradition-we'll hear that Scripture from the book of Acts that describes Jesus being lifted up and disappearing into the clouds. It's an important one-for brothers and sisters in Roman Catholic side of the Christian family, it's a holy day of obligation (which in some places can be moved to Sunday, but not, apparently, in Boston.
We affirm the Ascension in the Nicene Creed-quite clearly, we declare that Jesus "ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father." We say this every Sunday. There's something about the literalism of the image-Jesus either did or did not levitate into the sky-that I find particularly difficult. As a doctrine, it solves some intractable issues-how, for example, would Jesus have been buried, and what would we make of his divinity alongside his holy but also mortal and dead body-but in our children's sermon this Sunday I will graciously sidestep whether it actually happened that way.Ascension Day is one of those times that, as I believe God will be gentle with me, I also will be gentle with our tradition. The truth is, I don't know. It seems implausible, but, then again, the whole marvelous story is implausible.
As contemporary believers, we just can't go back to a spatially three tiered universe of heaven, hell, and us in between. We can haz science. Why did Jesus go into the sky? Well, if you think that heaven is "up there," then that makes perfect sense. But the Ascension is much more about Jesus coming "in here."
The resurrection appearances of Jesus were a marvel, but they were also quite localized to a particular band of followers; individually Simon and Peter and James and John might have wanted to keep that exclusive connection to themselves, but Jesus is pretty clear that their relationship with him is not only a personal affair. The ascension is about the transcendence of the risen Christ, about how humanity and divinity are joined in a universal and no longer only particular way. St Gregory of Nazianzus (around 390) said that Christ's ascension is our ascension. Our humanity rose with Christ. That doesn't depend on whether or not Jesus levitated. It doesn't depend on how loudly I say the Creed or whether I am, occasionally, just too doubtful. That depends on so much more that I can't even wrap my brain around it, which, frankly, is a pretty good place for a person of faith to stand. More mystery, less judgment.
Thanks be to God (and the long legacy of Anglicanism) for that.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, May 15, 2014
The wide and wonderful Anglican "maybe"
Dear People of Christ
Church
This week in our Episcopal Church class I was reminded, as
always when I pay attention, how very grateful I am to be part of the Anglican
Tradition. Every church has something wonderful about it-the
Lutherans have their focus on the grace of God, the evangelicals have their
intimacy with Jesus, the Catholics have their long history and diversity, the
Presbyterians their commitment to democratic governance...but it's our
theological breadth and flexibility where I really find myself at home.
The number of times someone has asked a simple yes/no
question and I've answered "maybe" reminds me of just committed we
are to this diversity of belief. "Do I have to cross myself?" You
can, but you don't have to. "Isn't the difference between the Roman
Catholic and Episcopal belief about communion that one believes in
transubstantiation and one doesn't?" Some actually believe in Jesus as
really, bodily present, but for others it's more symbolic. But we do teach that
it has a reality independent of our own experience. Do you
believe in the Bible literally? That's actually a pretty clear
no.
Sometimes all this ambiguity feels like maybe it's because
we're not sure-we sometimes get accused of being a mushy middle, not committed
to anything. It's not mushy at all, though-it's incredibly
centered-centered on the freedom of your conscience, and also centered on our
liturgical practice. One of my favorite Anglican quotes is (said to be) from
Queen Elizabeth, who, during all the Catholic/Protestant controversies
imperially declared "I do not desire windows into my subjects'
souls." At the same time, in consolidating the practice of the church with
worship in the English Language and independence from the Pope, an undeniable
center still holds us together and links us to each other and across time.
A unified community coalesces around prayer, even if we
differ on the particulars of that prayer. This humility around
doctrine, I think, also leads us into a constructive humility around our place
in the world. We don't have all the answers. This means that part of
our work as Christians is the work of interpretation, of contemplating new
learnings from science and psychology and philosophy and theology and how our
tradition can be in conversation with them. From evolution to climate science
to the plasticity of the human brain, we are always learning about this good creation
God has given us, and there's always more exploration and curiosity to be had.
I'll leave you with the prayer we say for the newly baptized, which I think
captures this nicely:
Heavenly Father, we thank you that by water and the Holy
Spirit you have bestowed upon these your servants the forgiveness of sin, and
have raised them to the new life of grace. Sustain them, O Lord, in your Holy
Spirit. Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to
persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of joy and wonder in
all your works.
Amen!
Blessings,
Sara+
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