Dear People of Christ Church,
I’m back in the office now for two weeks between last week’s trip to Central New York to meet people in advance of the Episcopal election there and my family vacation, which we’re taking the second and third weeks of August. I heard good things about your time with the Rev. Thea Keith-Lucas, Episcopal Chaplain at MIT, who will be back again for one Sunday in August. (Norm is taking the other.)
As you may know, my husband Noah is a candidate for bishop in the Episcopal Diocese of Central NY. Last week they had the “Walkabout” Meetings where the candidates answered questions from the diocese and we all visited ministries of the diocese. The transition and discernment committees’ hospitality was wonderful, even in the midst of long days. From Wednesday – Saturday, we all got on the bus around 10AM each day and got back to our hotel at 10PM. The diocese spans south to the Pennsylvania border, east to the Adirondacks, West to Ithaca and Elmira, and then north to Lake Ontario and the city of Watertown.
I have said many times that there is blessing on all sides—blessings if Noah is elected and new communities and ministries come into our life—and blessings if we stay in Massachusetts with our communities at Grace Medford and Christ Church. All along in this process it has been an exercise in “yes” to invitations—yes to the invitation for Noah to be nominated, yes to the discernment committee’s retreat, and then yes to joining the slate. Now that journey has come to an end, and it’s up to the people of Central NY. (Quick primer on bishop elections in the Episcopal Church: Each parish has lay voting delegates. Every canonically resident clergy person also votes. The final decision is made when a candidate has been elected in both the lay and clergy orders. They begin voting in the morning, and vote until there’s a clear decision. Church wide, there are 7 other couples of a bishop married to a priest; yes, I could still do parish ministry!)
It’s one thing, though, to believe that either outcome is a blessing (which they both would be) and another thing to stay centered in the midst of the not-knowing. The slate was first released on May 1 (after a months-long process of interviews and retreats for the candidates). Ten days now until the election, it’s even harder to know what either outcome would feel like.
Last week’s Gospel told us to pray: “God in heaven, your will be done.” But then what?
In June I quoted in this space a piece from Carlo Carretto, an Italian desert monastic (1910-1988) who wrote the book Letters from the Desert. Stay or go, be active or contemplative, city or country—the only decision there is to make is to follow the path of love. Reading Carretto in this time of my own uncertainty reminds me of an image of one of the speakers I heard at Wild Goose Festival earlier in July. Gabrielle Stoner talked about how we get attached to stories about ourselves— “I always ___” or “I could never ___”. Rather than be convinced of this insistence on narrow identity, in our spiritual lives we are invited to “widen the aperture”: to look wider than just the current moment or current question to a more transcendent consciousness. Spending time with Carretto’s invitation to focus on love rather than endless obsession on personal circumstance and clever understanding takes me out of the current roller coaster of wondering what will happen on August 6.
Here’s more about what Carretto says about prayer:
“As long as we pray only when and how we want to, our life of prayer is bound to be unreal. It will run in fits and starts. The slightest upset—even a toothache—will be enough to destroy the whole edifice of our prayer-life. ‘You must strip your prayers,’ the novice master told me. You must simplify, deintellectualize. Put yourself in front of Jesus as poor—not with any big ideas, but with living faith. Remain motionless in an act of love…don’t try to reach God with your understanding; that is impossible. Reach [God] in love; that is possible. (13)
Reach God in love. That is possible.
Blessings,
Sara+
Miss the sermon Sunday 7/24? It’s here!
Showing posts with label Episcopal Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Episcopal Church. Show all posts
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Thursday, July 2, 2015
"Get Up, Girl!"
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week I’ve continued to watch the events coming out of General Convention in Salt Lake City with a bit more focus. One of the highlights was seeing (now outgoing) Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori’s sermon on Sunday’s Gospel text, in which a girl, a daughter of a leader of the synagogue, is healed of her illness. Even after her father’s friends tell him to stop bothering Jesus, that she’s dead and he has to just deal with it, even when those friends laugh at Jesus when he tells them that she’s sleeping, not dead, this girl’s father keeps his faith and gets his daughter back.
Talitha cum, the phrase Jesus says to the girl, is rendered by Bishop Katharine as “get up, girl!” and what a word for our church. Institutionally, the Episcopal church nationwide is in quite a lot of hot water. Membership declines, money declines, buildings decline. Jesus comes and says, “Get up, girl!” As we celebrate marriage equality coming to every state, Jesus says, “Get up, girl!” As we weep over the nine murdered at Emanuel AME Charleston and rage against Southern churches burned in white supremacist attacks Jesus says, “Get up, girl!”
Get up to celebrate, get up to mourn, get up to speak out. Don’t die before you’re dead. Jesus speaks a word to us all to be the church as fully as we can. Not the church-as-institution, as building, as provider-of-“intangible spiritual gifts” (as our donor acknowledgement letter states). But Church as people-of-God, as disciples-of-Jesus, as body-of-Christ.
This week in Salt Lake City we elected our first African American Presiding Bishop. Just as having a black president didn’t end racism in the US, having a black presiding bishop doesn’t end racism in the church. The House of Bishops passed a resolution to remove references to gender in our marriage canons, so that full marriage equality will be the rule, not the exception in all Episcopal dioceses (currently it’s case-by-case, permitted in our diocese for some time now). And just as marriage equality has become the law in our country and our church, it doesn’t end violence and prejudice against our LGBT siblings. But as Presiding Bishop-elect Curry said: we have a God, there is a Jesus, and we are part of the Jesus movement. And nothing can stop the movement of God’s love in this world. Thanks be to God!
Some links to check out:
Coverage of the bishops’ led march against gun violence in Salt Lake City
Christ Church Cathedral in St Louis gets up: Rebuild Black Churches Fund
Michael Curry’s remarks (the standing ovation stops at about minute 9)
More on the nuts and bolts on the legislation on marriage
For updates from the Diocese of Massachusetts folks at Convention, check out their website here
And last but not least, the video about John Obergefell and his husband I preached about on Sunday, click here. Have tissues available.
Blessings,
Sara +
This week I’ve continued to watch the events coming out of General Convention in Salt Lake City with a bit more focus. One of the highlights was seeing (now outgoing) Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori’s sermon on Sunday’s Gospel text, in which a girl, a daughter of a leader of the synagogue, is healed of her illness. Even after her father’s friends tell him to stop bothering Jesus, that she’s dead and he has to just deal with it, even when those friends laugh at Jesus when he tells them that she’s sleeping, not dead, this girl’s father keeps his faith and gets his daughter back.
Talitha cum, the phrase Jesus says to the girl, is rendered by Bishop Katharine as “get up, girl!” and what a word for our church. Institutionally, the Episcopal church nationwide is in quite a lot of hot water. Membership declines, money declines, buildings decline. Jesus comes and says, “Get up, girl!” As we celebrate marriage equality coming to every state, Jesus says, “Get up, girl!” As we weep over the nine murdered at Emanuel AME Charleston and rage against Southern churches burned in white supremacist attacks Jesus says, “Get up, girl!”
Get up to celebrate, get up to mourn, get up to speak out. Don’t die before you’re dead. Jesus speaks a word to us all to be the church as fully as we can. Not the church-as-institution, as building, as provider-of-“intangible spiritual gifts” (as our donor acknowledgement letter states). But Church as people-of-God, as disciples-of-Jesus, as body-of-Christ.
This week in Salt Lake City we elected our first African American Presiding Bishop. Just as having a black president didn’t end racism in the US, having a black presiding bishop doesn’t end racism in the church. The House of Bishops passed a resolution to remove references to gender in our marriage canons, so that full marriage equality will be the rule, not the exception in all Episcopal dioceses (currently it’s case-by-case, permitted in our diocese for some time now). And just as marriage equality has become the law in our country and our church, it doesn’t end violence and prejudice against our LGBT siblings. But as Presiding Bishop-elect Curry said: we have a God, there is a Jesus, and we are part of the Jesus movement. And nothing can stop the movement of God’s love in this world. Thanks be to God!
Some links to check out:
Coverage of the bishops’ led march against gun violence in Salt Lake City
Christ Church Cathedral in St Louis gets up: Rebuild Black Churches Fund
Michael Curry’s remarks (the standing ovation stops at about minute 9)
More on the nuts and bolts on the legislation on marriage
For updates from the Diocese of Massachusetts folks at Convention, check out their website here
And last but not least, the video about John Obergefell and his husband I preached about on Sunday, click here. Have tissues available.
Blessings,
Sara +
Friday, June 26, 2015
A Dwelling Place for God
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week the wider Episcopal Church begins their ten day General Convention, an every-three-years bonanza of church policy making and community building. On the table this year is a pending change to the canons on same gender marriage (which is permissible in many places, including Massachusetts, but not officially the law of the whole church), the election of a presiding bishop (the head of the whole shebang—Katharine Jefferts Schori finishes her nine year term), and many, many, many other proposals of varying significance.
The violence in Charleston, though, and racism in America, is still more on my mind—it feels a bit beside the point to argue the finer points of church governance (will our currently bicameral system go unicameral? Oh, the suspense!). I read one reflection from Convention about “The Elephant in the Room” being that the African Methodist Episcopal Church was founded because African Americans were not welcome in those white-dominated denominations in their day. The Episcopal Herald author offers,
In the same way that a budget is a moral document reflecting our values, perhaps it is worth considering how the agenda for our time together reflects those same values. If one were to look at the proposed agenda, would it be clear as to where God is calling us to build the Kingdom of God in our communities throughout the world?
This is a good question for all of us engaged in church work to ask—how much of our vestry agenda every month directly relates to sharing the good news of God in Christ that we are reconciled, beloved, and freed for the work of being the body of Christ in the world? How are we engaging, every day, to confront all of the “evil powers of this world that corrupt and destroy the creatures of God” as we promised in our baptismal covenant along with Jane Harvey on Sunday? Instead of being fully focused on being hands and heart of Christ, how often do we instead flit in and out of doing that work? A special collection here, a fiery sermon there, and the box checked off of the to do list?
This Sunday after church, I’d like to invite anyone who is interested to spend some time looking at the Charleston Syllabus, an initiative begun by Brandeis professor Chad Williams. Both the Charleston doc and similar work on the Ferguson Syllabus preceding it (begun by Marcia Chatelain) are crowdsourced in-flux documents—(to see the whole conversation, see them on twitter at #FergusonSyllabus and #Charlestonsyllabus). So we’ll look at the list from the African American Intellectual History Society. What have you read? What do you want to read? How shall we work closer to home, to change ourselves as we change the world?
Finally, I want to offer you this prayer from Clementa Pinkney, offered just 2 months before his death. May we all be a dwelling place for God.
“Lord of all the names that we call you, we invite you into this space today. We pray that you would fill this place, Emanuel, with your love.
May we remember that the name Emanuel means ‘God with Us’ and so we invite you and we welcome you into this place.
And God we pray that you would make ‘Emanuels’ of all of us, that we may be filled with your love, for we know that only love can conquer hate, that only love can bring all together in your name.
Regardless of our faiths, our ethnicities, where we are from, together we come in love. Together we come to bury racism, to bury bigotry, and to resurrect and to revive love, compassion, and tenderness.
We pray that you would bless and empower all who are here to reach and to feel the love and to share the love.
We ask all now in reverence and holiness, may we together say, Amen.”
From Rev Mae Elise Cannon’s 5 Things White Christians Can Do in Solidarity with our Brothers and Sisters of Color
This week the wider Episcopal Church begins their ten day General Convention, an every-three-years bonanza of church policy making and community building. On the table this year is a pending change to the canons on same gender marriage (which is permissible in many places, including Massachusetts, but not officially the law of the whole church), the election of a presiding bishop (the head of the whole shebang—Katharine Jefferts Schori finishes her nine year term), and many, many, many other proposals of varying significance.
The violence in Charleston, though, and racism in America, is still more on my mind—it feels a bit beside the point to argue the finer points of church governance (will our currently bicameral system go unicameral? Oh, the suspense!). I read one reflection from Convention about “The Elephant in the Room” being that the African Methodist Episcopal Church was founded because African Americans were not welcome in those white-dominated denominations in their day. The Episcopal Herald author offers,
In the same way that a budget is a moral document reflecting our values, perhaps it is worth considering how the agenda for our time together reflects those same values. If one were to look at the proposed agenda, would it be clear as to where God is calling us to build the Kingdom of God in our communities throughout the world?
This is a good question for all of us engaged in church work to ask—how much of our vestry agenda every month directly relates to sharing the good news of God in Christ that we are reconciled, beloved, and freed for the work of being the body of Christ in the world? How are we engaging, every day, to confront all of the “evil powers of this world that corrupt and destroy the creatures of God” as we promised in our baptismal covenant along with Jane Harvey on Sunday? Instead of being fully focused on being hands and heart of Christ, how often do we instead flit in and out of doing that work? A special collection here, a fiery sermon there, and the box checked off of the to do list?
This Sunday after church, I’d like to invite anyone who is interested to spend some time looking at the Charleston Syllabus, an initiative begun by Brandeis professor Chad Williams. Both the Charleston doc and similar work on the Ferguson Syllabus preceding it (begun by Marcia Chatelain) are crowdsourced in-flux documents—(to see the whole conversation, see them on twitter at #FergusonSyllabus and #Charlestonsyllabus). So we’ll look at the list from the African American Intellectual History Society. What have you read? What do you want to read? How shall we work closer to home, to change ourselves as we change the world?
Finally, I want to offer you this prayer from Clementa Pinkney, offered just 2 months before his death. May we all be a dwelling place for God.
“Lord of all the names that we call you, we invite you into this space today. We pray that you would fill this place, Emanuel, with your love.
May we remember that the name Emanuel means ‘God with Us’ and so we invite you and we welcome you into this place.
And God we pray that you would make ‘Emanuels’ of all of us, that we may be filled with your love, for we know that only love can conquer hate, that only love can bring all together in your name.
Regardless of our faiths, our ethnicities, where we are from, together we come in love. Together we come to bury racism, to bury bigotry, and to resurrect and to revive love, compassion, and tenderness.
We pray that you would bless and empower all who are here to reach and to feel the love and to share the love.
We ask all now in reverence and holiness, may we together say, Amen.”
From Rev Mae Elise Cannon’s 5 Things White Christians Can Do in Solidarity with our Brothers and Sisters of Color
Friday, October 3, 2014
One of these things is not like the other one
Dear People of Christ Church,
In his letter to the Church in Rome, Paul tells the people, “weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice.” This week, in preparing for two very different liturgical events, I’m mindful of how broad our task is in being the church. On the one hand, we have a children’s sermon on Sunday and blessing of the animals. In church. All your dogs and birds and snakes and lizards are welcome to come to our 10am service. We did it for the first time last year as part of the liturgy, and it was great. For those pets who might not be ready for church, photographs and stuffed animals are welcome to join in their place. Our celebration this Sunday is in observance of the feast day of St Francis, October 4. He renounced a life of wealth and power in favor of a joyful simplicity, going into the wilds outside Assisi, so full of the Gospel that he preached to the birds. It will be quite a party!
At the same time, I’m preparing for our service the next day, for domestic violence awareness month. We have several speakers coming from REACH (www.reachma.org) to share personal and practical perspectives, and our own Anna Jones will be preaching. The service will be broadly ecumenical—your Roman Catholic as well as your non-faith practicing friends will be comfortable—so please come and invite everyone. Domestic violence has been much in the news lately with the NFL players’ conduct and the recent one year anniversary of the murder of Waltham resident Jennifer Martel, but those high profile cases only highlight the reality that many struggle with every day, no matter what’s going on in the media. 1 in 4 women have experienced domestic violence. 1 in 3 women who are murdered in the US are killed by their partner. Our culture is not doing well.
It’s strange to do something so serious so close to something that’s so, frankly, frivolous, with an arguably tenuous connection to the actual ministry of a decidedly un-frivolous saint. And maybe that’s an appropriate reticence, to acknowledge that one of these things is not like the other one. At the same time, I’m watching allegations and recriminations swirl at my seminary, General Theological Seminary, the Episcopal seminary in New York. General is the seminary that tries to be the most traditional and the most historic, while cautiously being open to the world and the inclusion of women and GLBT persons (which the other “traditional” Episcopal seminaries have not). Eight faculty members announced a strike, suspending teaching and saying they couldn't work with the dean and president. The board, in response, “accepted their resignations”—though they didn't exactly intend to resign—and so the accusations continue. No classes are in session, but lawyers on all sides are getting down to work.
General Seminary was not a particularly good fit for my desires for theological education; I didn't “enjoy” my time there, though I am grateful to have had three years to live in New York City. I have some fond feelings, as I was married in the chapel (the current dean was in my class, as it happens, and organized the potluck for the reception), so am not unaffected by the conflict. I don’t think it’s a simple labor issue of betraying striking workers, but I also think the dean has some reconciling to do. Collaboration wasn’t exactly part of our curriculum. Still, a la Romans, it’s possible to hold two different notions in our hearts and minds simultaneously. I can say that General was not a good fit for me, but I still hope for its future. I can say that Kurt, my friend and the dean, made some bad decisions, but ultimately was trying to adapt to a changing world—and General Seminary, in my option, has a lot of adapting to do so I’m cautiously on board with that. Maybe ironically, he did too much work trying to adapt the seminary to a changing world and not enough work adapting himself (a full media rundown can be had at www.episcopalcafe.com).
In the meantime, as always, we pray for a lot of things. We pray for those experiencing and healing from domestic violence. We pray to have the grace and power to support them, pray that we can be part of creating a world where violence is never overlooked. We pray in thanksgiving for God’s creation and for all the furry and scaly friends that call us home. And I pray for General, too, especially for the students who need to get back to work.
Blessings,
Sara+
In his letter to the Church in Rome, Paul tells the people, “weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice.” This week, in preparing for two very different liturgical events, I’m mindful of how broad our task is in being the church. On the one hand, we have a children’s sermon on Sunday and blessing of the animals. In church. All your dogs and birds and snakes and lizards are welcome to come to our 10am service. We did it for the first time last year as part of the liturgy, and it was great. For those pets who might not be ready for church, photographs and stuffed animals are welcome to join in their place. Our celebration this Sunday is in observance of the feast day of St Francis, October 4. He renounced a life of wealth and power in favor of a joyful simplicity, going into the wilds outside Assisi, so full of the Gospel that he preached to the birds. It will be quite a party!
At the same time, I’m preparing for our service the next day, for domestic violence awareness month. We have several speakers coming from REACH (www.reachma.org) to share personal and practical perspectives, and our own Anna Jones will be preaching. The service will be broadly ecumenical—your Roman Catholic as well as your non-faith practicing friends will be comfortable—so please come and invite everyone. Domestic violence has been much in the news lately with the NFL players’ conduct and the recent one year anniversary of the murder of Waltham resident Jennifer Martel, but those high profile cases only highlight the reality that many struggle with every day, no matter what’s going on in the media. 1 in 4 women have experienced domestic violence. 1 in 3 women who are murdered in the US are killed by their partner. Our culture is not doing well.
It’s strange to do something so serious so close to something that’s so, frankly, frivolous, with an arguably tenuous connection to the actual ministry of a decidedly un-frivolous saint. And maybe that’s an appropriate reticence, to acknowledge that one of these things is not like the other one. At the same time, I’m watching allegations and recriminations swirl at my seminary, General Theological Seminary, the Episcopal seminary in New York. General is the seminary that tries to be the most traditional and the most historic, while cautiously being open to the world and the inclusion of women and GLBT persons (which the other “traditional” Episcopal seminaries have not). Eight faculty members announced a strike, suspending teaching and saying they couldn't work with the dean and president. The board, in response, “accepted their resignations”—though they didn't exactly intend to resign—and so the accusations continue. No classes are in session, but lawyers on all sides are getting down to work.
General Seminary was not a particularly good fit for my desires for theological education; I didn't “enjoy” my time there, though I am grateful to have had three years to live in New York City. I have some fond feelings, as I was married in the chapel (the current dean was in my class, as it happens, and organized the potluck for the reception), so am not unaffected by the conflict. I don’t think it’s a simple labor issue of betraying striking workers, but I also think the dean has some reconciling to do. Collaboration wasn’t exactly part of our curriculum. Still, a la Romans, it’s possible to hold two different notions in our hearts and minds simultaneously. I can say that General was not a good fit for me, but I still hope for its future. I can say that Kurt, my friend and the dean, made some bad decisions, but ultimately was trying to adapt to a changing world—and General Seminary, in my option, has a lot of adapting to do so I’m cautiously on board with that. Maybe ironically, he did too much work trying to adapt the seminary to a changing world and not enough work adapting himself (a full media rundown can be had at www.episcopalcafe.com).
In the meantime, as always, we pray for a lot of things. We pray for those experiencing and healing from domestic violence. We pray to have the grace and power to support them, pray that we can be part of creating a world where violence is never overlooked. We pray in thanksgiving for God’s creation and for all the furry and scaly friends that call us home. And I pray for General, too, especially for the students who need to get back to work.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, January 16, 2014
New year and a new bishop
Dear People of Christ Church,
At long last, the slate for candidates for bishop for the Diocese of Massachusetts has been released. Our own Sasha Killewald was a member of the discernment committee that worked on compiling the slate, so thank you, Sasha, for all of your hard work! Candidates can also be nominated by petition process, described here, which closes January 31. (For an overview, read the Boston Globe article.) Our diocese spans churches large and small, mostly within the boundaries of Rt 495 and East into the Cape. Our current bishop, Tom Shaw, has served for twenty years. He's a monk (literally-he's a brother of the Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge). Open meetings will be held around the diocese March 14-19 for us to meet the candidates and ask questions. Rev. Holly Antolini is our dean here in the Alewife deanery, so we know her a bit better, as well as Rev. Sam Rodman, who works at the diocese with the Together Now Collaborative Campaign. Canonically resident clergy in the diocese will vote at a special convention on April 5, and each parish has two lay delegates as well-the same who attend Diocesan Convention each fall, in our case Mike Balulescu and Jonathan Duce, elected at the annual meeting. Voting members vote "by orders" (clergy in one pool and lay in the other) and the candidate with a majority of votes on the same ballot from both is the winner-occasionally bishops are elected on the first ballot, but usually it takes a few.
We could probably argue all day about whether the choice of the bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts is the most important choice of the year or the least important; institutional church politics are not exactly a thrill a minute. It is interesting, though, to think about the next steps for the diocese as we at Christ Church are perched at our annual meeting coming up in ten days. We're compiling the annual report, which is available online in its current form. Limited paper copies will be available this Sunday in advance of the meeting on 1/26, but please download it online if you're able to instead.
Looking back at 2013, we've also done some pretty amazing things. We concluded the Waltham CPA Historic Preservation-funded portion of our tower restoration. We emerged re-energized from the sabbatical time, an important time for me as rector and, I think, for you as a congregation to re-engage in ministry. We've welcomed a raft of new members, and grown our ranks of lay Eucharistic ministers, readers, and choristers (we can be particularly thankful that six of the new members who joined in 2013 are part of the choir!). We did new things, built on the old, and said goodbye to Amanda Gee, the Christie and August Families, and others who left Waltham. David, our organist, started a bell choir. We engaged a new, more open process for vestry nominations that will continue in 2014. There were deaths and births and Life just goes.
Through it all, there will be a bishop, there will be a rector, and there will be Christians of all kinds. Whatever the configuration of our diocese or our parish, the Spirit will be with us all. On Sunday, in my sermon I was sharing some background about the early church; what a change it was to understand that
absolutely everyone, without exception, could be part of it. What a change, too, for that community to discover that the Messiah John announced wasn't going to sweep in and set everything on fire with a big show of muscle. Instead, Jesus went to be baptized, to begin his ministry with the power of God's love and solidarity. Reconciliation doesn't come through force and dominance. That's the kind of church we need to be, and the kind of leaders we need. Let's pray to be open to what God will do.
Blessings,
Sara+
At long last, the slate for candidates for bishop for the Diocese of Massachusetts has been released. Our own Sasha Killewald was a member of the discernment committee that worked on compiling the slate, so thank you, Sasha, for all of your hard work! Candidates can also be nominated by petition process, described here, which closes January 31. (For an overview, read the Boston Globe article.) Our diocese spans churches large and small, mostly within the boundaries of Rt 495 and East into the Cape. Our current bishop, Tom Shaw, has served for twenty years. He's a monk (literally-he's a brother of the Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge). Open meetings will be held around the diocese March 14-19 for us to meet the candidates and ask questions. Rev. Holly Antolini is our dean here in the Alewife deanery, so we know her a bit better, as well as Rev. Sam Rodman, who works at the diocese with the Together Now Collaborative Campaign. Canonically resident clergy in the diocese will vote at a special convention on April 5, and each parish has two lay delegates as well-the same who attend Diocesan Convention each fall, in our case Mike Balulescu and Jonathan Duce, elected at the annual meeting. Voting members vote "by orders" (clergy in one pool and lay in the other) and the candidate with a majority of votes on the same ballot from both is the winner-occasionally bishops are elected on the first ballot, but usually it takes a few.
We could probably argue all day about whether the choice of the bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts is the most important choice of the year or the least important; institutional church politics are not exactly a thrill a minute. It is interesting, though, to think about the next steps for the diocese as we at Christ Church are perched at our annual meeting coming up in ten days. We're compiling the annual report, which is available online in its current form. Limited paper copies will be available this Sunday in advance of the meeting on 1/26, but please download it online if you're able to instead.
Looking back at 2013, we've also done some pretty amazing things. We concluded the Waltham CPA Historic Preservation-funded portion of our tower restoration. We emerged re-energized from the sabbatical time, an important time for me as rector and, I think, for you as a congregation to re-engage in ministry. We've welcomed a raft of new members, and grown our ranks of lay Eucharistic ministers, readers, and choristers (we can be particularly thankful that six of the new members who joined in 2013 are part of the choir!). We did new things, built on the old, and said goodbye to Amanda Gee, the Christie and August Families, and others who left Waltham. David, our organist, started a bell choir. We engaged a new, more open process for vestry nominations that will continue in 2014. There were deaths and births and Life just goes.
Through it all, there will be a bishop, there will be a rector, and there will be Christians of all kinds. Whatever the configuration of our diocese or our parish, the Spirit will be with us all. On Sunday, in my sermon I was sharing some background about the early church; what a change it was to understand that
absolutely everyone, without exception, could be part of it. What a change, too, for that community to discover that the Messiah John announced wasn't going to sweep in and set everything on fire with a big show of muscle. Instead, Jesus went to be baptized, to begin his ministry with the power of God's love and solidarity. Reconciliation doesn't come through force and dominance. That's the kind of church we need to be, and the kind of leaders we need. Let's pray to be open to what God will do.
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
from May 19: Episcopal Church, Old & New
Dear People of Christ Church,
Yesterday evening, our Introduction to the Episcopal Church class continued. The topic for was "The church's stance on contemporary moral issues." As with last week when we tried to cover the Bible, prayer, liturgy, and the sacraments in 90 minutes, we definitely had our work cut out for us, but still managed to have a great conversation.
The Episcopal Church is known for being a distinctive combination of traditional liturgy and "modern" social practice-or, as the comedian (and Episcopalian) Robin Williams puts it, "All of the pageantry, none of the guilt." On the "traditional" side, we share a deeply historic faith. The Episcopal Church is a daughter of the Anglican church (Anglican just means "of England" and we are still part of the worldwide Anglican Communion). But our history goes back before the church in England broke from Rome. Our confession of the Nicene Creed is 1600 years old, and our sacraments go back to the practice of Jesus. We gather, as his disciples did, in the breaking of the bread, and we, as they did, baptize in the name of the Trinity. At the same time, we are also a "modern" church-we ordain women and married people, support the right of people to limit their family size as they feel called, and respond to human sexuality in dialogue with the wider culture. What we sometimes forget, though, is that some of what is often called "new" really isn't-we're just being faithful to the theology we've shared for hundreds of years.
Early Anglicans talked about how the church was like a three legged stool, supported by Scripture, tradition, and reason. All three have equal claim-otherwise, you fall off! Too much Scripture, and you are worshipping a book instead of a living God. Too much reason, and you elevate human knowledge above mystery and faith. Too much tradition, and you find yourself in a museum, not a church.
This approach has real consequences for the practice of the church in the world. While it is true that women have only been regularly ordained since 1971 (Hong Kong was the first-the US followed in 1974 and 1976), it is not new theology that says this is finally OK. In our diocese, where gays and lesbians can legally be married, it is not "new theology"' that says that they should be offered the full benefit of the support and blessings of the church. It is our reason informing our tradition, reading Scripture for clues about how love is of God and how all love is to be honored. It is reason that looks at what homosexual practice was understood to be in Biblical times, and seeing how that's quite different from two people pledging their love as long as they both shall live. It is tradition that looks at the practice of marriage and thinks, "Gosh, it seems like marriage really helps society and it helps people keep their promises. Sounds like something everyone should have access to."
So, too, with women-the church is part of the world. It is a comparatively new thing that the world has "gotten" that women are equal to men. It's too bad that the church didn't figure it out first, but as the wider culture started to understand, so, too, did the church. But the church did so in applying its same old categories of analysis to the contemporary world-it didn't invent new justifications or new ideas. God is still the creator of all, and God is still a creator who named creation-all of it-good. God still wants to see the gifts of every person used to the fullest. This is a tradition that honors a Holy Spirit who still speaks.
When Henry the VIII wanted to get a divorce back in the sixteenth century, he was protesting the wider issue of a distant pope having say in English affairs. He wanted, in effect, for the church to respond to lives as they are lived, where they are lived. He wanted for decisions to be made close to the ground, in the same place where they impact people's lives. So, too, now: the Episcopal Church is nimble enough to allow same sex marriage in states where it is legal, but to allow dioceses (and, even congregations) where the people don't support it (either legally or theologically) to abstain.
Diversity, too, is the name of the game-we unite in prayer, but recognize that each of us may pray and believe differently. Queen Elizabeth I famously said that she did not "desire windows into men's souls." Each of us can believe differently, but coming together in those sacraments and those creeds feeds us in our differences. Not everyone has to agree on sexuality, or on abortion, or on the death penalty-but when we come to the altar, we are all equally fed-and there is enough for everyone. Thanks be to God!
Blessings,
Sara+
Yesterday evening, our Introduction to the Episcopal Church class continued. The topic for was "The church's stance on contemporary moral issues." As with last week when we tried to cover the Bible, prayer, liturgy, and the sacraments in 90 minutes, we definitely had our work cut out for us, but still managed to have a great conversation.
The Episcopal Church is known for being a distinctive combination of traditional liturgy and "modern" social practice-or, as the comedian (and Episcopalian) Robin Williams puts it, "All of the pageantry, none of the guilt." On the "traditional" side, we share a deeply historic faith. The Episcopal Church is a daughter of the Anglican church (Anglican just means "of England" and we are still part of the worldwide Anglican Communion). But our history goes back before the church in England broke from Rome. Our confession of the Nicene Creed is 1600 years old, and our sacraments go back to the practice of Jesus. We gather, as his disciples did, in the breaking of the bread, and we, as they did, baptize in the name of the Trinity. At the same time, we are also a "modern" church-we ordain women and married people, support the right of people to limit their family size as they feel called, and respond to human sexuality in dialogue with the wider culture. What we sometimes forget, though, is that some of what is often called "new" really isn't-we're just being faithful to the theology we've shared for hundreds of years.
Early Anglicans talked about how the church was like a three legged stool, supported by Scripture, tradition, and reason. All three have equal claim-otherwise, you fall off! Too much Scripture, and you are worshipping a book instead of a living God. Too much reason, and you elevate human knowledge above mystery and faith. Too much tradition, and you find yourself in a museum, not a church.
This approach has real consequences for the practice of the church in the world. While it is true that women have only been regularly ordained since 1971 (Hong Kong was the first-the US followed in 1974 and 1976), it is not new theology that says this is finally OK. In our diocese, where gays and lesbians can legally be married, it is not "new theology"' that says that they should be offered the full benefit of the support and blessings of the church. It is our reason informing our tradition, reading Scripture for clues about how love is of God and how all love is to be honored. It is reason that looks at what homosexual practice was understood to be in Biblical times, and seeing how that's quite different from two people pledging their love as long as they both shall live. It is tradition that looks at the practice of marriage and thinks, "Gosh, it seems like marriage really helps society and it helps people keep their promises. Sounds like something everyone should have access to."
So, too, with women-the church is part of the world. It is a comparatively new thing that the world has "gotten" that women are equal to men. It's too bad that the church didn't figure it out first, but as the wider culture started to understand, so, too, did the church. But the church did so in applying its same old categories of analysis to the contemporary world-it didn't invent new justifications or new ideas. God is still the creator of all, and God is still a creator who named creation-all of it-good. God still wants to see the gifts of every person used to the fullest. This is a tradition that honors a Holy Spirit who still speaks.
When Henry the VIII wanted to get a divorce back in the sixteenth century, he was protesting the wider issue of a distant pope having say in English affairs. He wanted, in effect, for the church to respond to lives as they are lived, where they are lived. He wanted for decisions to be made close to the ground, in the same place where they impact people's lives. So, too, now: the Episcopal Church is nimble enough to allow same sex marriage in states where it is legal, but to allow dioceses (and, even congregations) where the people don't support it (either legally or theologically) to abstain.
Diversity, too, is the name of the game-we unite in prayer, but recognize that each of us may pray and believe differently. Queen Elizabeth I famously said that she did not "desire windows into men's souls." Each of us can believe differently, but coming together in those sacraments and those creeds feeds us in our differences. Not everyone has to agree on sexuality, or on abortion, or on the death penalty-but when we come to the altar, we are all equally fed-and there is enough for everyone. Thanks be to God!
Blessings,
Sara+
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
April 15: Intro to the Episcopal Church
Continued Easter Blessings!
This week, our "Introduction to the Episcopal Church" Class met for the first time. I offer this every spring (or so) for new parishioners and for those who are considering confirmation or reception into the Episcopal Church. We had a good sized group meet, and we started with the rather ambitious goal of covering "The beginnings of the Anglican Church and the foundations of Anglicanism, The Episcopal Church in the US: polity, governance, and our diocese." Needless to say, it was a discussion from about 50,000 feet up.
In going around the room to talk about what people hoped to get out of the class, Christie mentioned that she had been raised in a non denominational church, which was an independent congregation, and liked the idea of how the Anglican Church spans the globe--and time. This is one of the things that I love about the Episcopal Church, too, and especially Anglicanism in general. Going all the way back to the beginning of the Reformation, the Anglican tradition has shared and honored some of the same traditions and commitments. We've always been "about" respecting local communities and local desires, even when those desires differ from place to place. We've always been "about" the experience of the individual and the local community, not about the dictates from a distant hierarchy.
At every stage of Anglican history, there has been someone saying, "That can't possibly hang together as a church. All those people are too different." But we're still here and still together. This is one of the tragic things about the disputes right now in the church; I think that those who would like to see the Episcopal Church in the US excluded in some way are misreading hundreds of years of Anglican theology. We are loosely allied, but that's been our strength. The Anglican Communion is a Communion because we are all, in some way, descended from the churches that have their home in the English reformation of the 16th century. All of us, in some way, are on a continuum of being "Catholic" and "Protestant," and all of us have some form of the Book of Common Prayer, whether it be the more recent books like our own, edited in 1979, or translations of the 1662 BCP translated into local languages. All of us believe in the Creeds, the Sacraments, and Scripture--and that we have experience and reason to guide our practice. That casts a pretty wide net, and it's one I'm comfortable with.
We had some news from our own diocese this week as well. Bishop Gayle Harris had taken a leave of absence this fall, which extended through the winter. She will be back in the diocese of May 3, working in some of the same capacities as before. Bishop Shaw goes on sabbatical starting in May as well, and Bishop Cederholm will be in charge of the diocese in his absence. Please keep them all in your prayers.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, our "Introduction to the Episcopal Church" Class met for the first time. I offer this every spring (or so) for new parishioners and for those who are considering confirmation or reception into the Episcopal Church. We had a good sized group meet, and we started with the rather ambitious goal of covering "The beginnings of the Anglican Church and the foundations of Anglicanism, The Episcopal Church in the US: polity, governance, and our diocese." Needless to say, it was a discussion from about 50,000 feet up.
In going around the room to talk about what people hoped to get out of the class, Christie mentioned that she had been raised in a non denominational church, which was an independent congregation, and liked the idea of how the Anglican Church spans the globe--and time. This is one of the things that I love about the Episcopal Church, too, and especially Anglicanism in general. Going all the way back to the beginning of the Reformation, the Anglican tradition has shared and honored some of the same traditions and commitments. We've always been "about" respecting local communities and local desires, even when those desires differ from place to place. We've always been "about" the experience of the individual and the local community, not about the dictates from a distant hierarchy.
At every stage of Anglican history, there has been someone saying, "That can't possibly hang together as a church. All those people are too different." But we're still here and still together. This is one of the tragic things about the disputes right now in the church; I think that those who would like to see the Episcopal Church in the US excluded in some way are misreading hundreds of years of Anglican theology. We are loosely allied, but that's been our strength. The Anglican Communion is a Communion because we are all, in some way, descended from the churches that have their home in the English reformation of the 16th century. All of us, in some way, are on a continuum of being "Catholic" and "Protestant," and all of us have some form of the Book of Common Prayer, whether it be the more recent books like our own, edited in 1979, or translations of the 1662 BCP translated into local languages. All of us believe in the Creeds, the Sacraments, and Scripture--and that we have experience and reason to guide our practice. That casts a pretty wide net, and it's one I'm comfortable with.
We had some news from our own diocese this week as well. Bishop Gayle Harris had taken a leave of absence this fall, which extended through the winter. She will be back in the diocese of May 3, working in some of the same capacities as before. Bishop Shaw goes on sabbatical starting in May as well, and Bishop Cederholm will be in charge of the diocese in his absence. Please keep them all in your prayers.
Blessings,
Sara+
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Receiving the Eucharist
Dear People of Christ Church,
This week, I've been reading up on Anglican practices around the Eucharist. We had our meeting on Sunday to talk about what we'd like to do moving forward here, and talked about it as vestry as well. The summary is, in the words of Marcia Luce: "If they want to dip, let them dip!" That's the upshot of the thing, but as I have been discovering, it's a lot more complicated than that-and more personal, too.
I was raised to be a drinker, even as a young child. No one, that I can remember in my church growing up, was a dipper. It was just what you did. I was reminded of this a while ago when my dad served as a LEM here at Christ Church and he presented the chalice to a rather perplexed Isaiah, who hadn't had it before but seemed OK with it. In my own spirituality, the sacraments are incredibly important to me; the sense of being fed, spiritually and physically, in the Eucharist is entirely what brought me back to church after I'd spent an angry adolescence away from it. I love celebrating with you on Sundays, and administering communion to each of you is my favorite part of my work as a priest. A smiling and excited 2 year old, a distracted teenager, a child-wrangling parent, and the creased palm of an 80 year old-I get to witness the faith of so many different people as they receive the sacrament, and it is a privilege.
A simple privilege... until I start to think too hard about it. I was away this fall when the bishops made their "no intinction" policy, so I didn't have a chance to do much teaching about it. Coming back, I was sad to see the number of people who didn't feel comfortable receiving the wine by drinking, so I am glad that we had a chance to reconsider the policy. The thing is-I'm still a drinker. And that being my personal experience and faith, I still encourage you to drink from the chalice, too.
We celebrate the Eucharist because we are doing what Jesus said to do; he took one cup, and shared it among the disciples. What we do at the rail is pretty far removed from an actual meal, but it seems important to me to do what we can to keep it in that realm; including real sips of real wine from a real cup. But that's my preference. As a seminary-trained priest, I could come up with a theological treatise on why you should do it my way, but that's not the way of our Anglican/Episcopal tradition.
There is a difference between a theological opinion and a matter of faith. It is a matter of faith that we receive the sacraments-a matter of faith that you should come to church, and participate in them, and that Jesus loves us and died for love and was raised. But it's a matter of theology whether you should drink or dip, and in that theology, it's a matter of where Christ best meets you, as an individual. And that is a question only you can answer. The Anglican Church is big on theological dialogue-not so much big commandments for how you should live your life and practice your faith. So... drink. Unless you want to dip.
We will make some new efforts at keeping the cup clean for everyone, but there is no way to be entirely germ free. The Anglican Church first took up the question of bacteria in the chalice during the Plague, when they enacted the Sacrament Act of 1547: The "most blessed Sacrament be hereafter commonly delivered and ministered unto the people... under both the kinds, that is to say of bread and wine, except necessity otherwise require." Necessity, in that case, being risk of illness. But we have to keep that fear of risk in perspective. Life is risky; that's why we have seatbelts and immune systems. Every time we are exposed to a germ, it doesn't mean we'll get sick. In their theological statement on the common cup during the SARS epidemic in 2003, the Anglican Diocese of Toronto wrote:
Our liturgy of faithful remembering must not make the avoidance of all risk the primary criterion -which would mean avoiding any authentic celebration of the Eucharist. After all, this gathering at table is of no practical use whatever (a morsel of bread, a sip of wine do nothing to fill the belly). But at the symbolic level, the bread and wine are food for life, a meal of hope, a banquet "rich in delights and suited to every taste."(Wisdom 16:20)
May our Eucharistic feast be rich in all delights, and delicious to our souls.
Blessings,
Sara+
This week, I've been reading up on Anglican practices around the Eucharist. We had our meeting on Sunday to talk about what we'd like to do moving forward here, and talked about it as vestry as well. The summary is, in the words of Marcia Luce: "If they want to dip, let them dip!" That's the upshot of the thing, but as I have been discovering, it's a lot more complicated than that-and more personal, too.
I was raised to be a drinker, even as a young child. No one, that I can remember in my church growing up, was a dipper. It was just what you did. I was reminded of this a while ago when my dad served as a LEM here at Christ Church and he presented the chalice to a rather perplexed Isaiah, who hadn't had it before but seemed OK with it. In my own spirituality, the sacraments are incredibly important to me; the sense of being fed, spiritually and physically, in the Eucharist is entirely what brought me back to church after I'd spent an angry adolescence away from it. I love celebrating with you on Sundays, and administering communion to each of you is my favorite part of my work as a priest. A smiling and excited 2 year old, a distracted teenager, a child-wrangling parent, and the creased palm of an 80 year old-I get to witness the faith of so many different people as they receive the sacrament, and it is a privilege.
A simple privilege... until I start to think too hard about it. I was away this fall when the bishops made their "no intinction" policy, so I didn't have a chance to do much teaching about it. Coming back, I was sad to see the number of people who didn't feel comfortable receiving the wine by drinking, so I am glad that we had a chance to reconsider the policy. The thing is-I'm still a drinker. And that being my personal experience and faith, I still encourage you to drink from the chalice, too.
We celebrate the Eucharist because we are doing what Jesus said to do; he took one cup, and shared it among the disciples. What we do at the rail is pretty far removed from an actual meal, but it seems important to me to do what we can to keep it in that realm; including real sips of real wine from a real cup. But that's my preference. As a seminary-trained priest, I could come up with a theological treatise on why you should do it my way, but that's not the way of our Anglican/Episcopal tradition.
There is a difference between a theological opinion and a matter of faith. It is a matter of faith that we receive the sacraments-a matter of faith that you should come to church, and participate in them, and that Jesus loves us and died for love and was raised. But it's a matter of theology whether you should drink or dip, and in that theology, it's a matter of where Christ best meets you, as an individual. And that is a question only you can answer. The Anglican Church is big on theological dialogue-not so much big commandments for how you should live your life and practice your faith. So... drink. Unless you want to dip.
We will make some new efforts at keeping the cup clean for everyone, but there is no way to be entirely germ free. The Anglican Church first took up the question of bacteria in the chalice during the Plague, when they enacted the Sacrament Act of 1547: The "most blessed Sacrament be hereafter commonly delivered and ministered unto the people... under both the kinds, that is to say of bread and wine, except necessity otherwise require." Necessity, in that case, being risk of illness. But we have to keep that fear of risk in perspective. Life is risky; that's why we have seatbelts and immune systems. Every time we are exposed to a germ, it doesn't mean we'll get sick. In their theological statement on the common cup during the SARS epidemic in 2003, the Anglican Diocese of Toronto wrote:
Our liturgy of faithful remembering must not make the avoidance of all risk the primary criterion -which would mean avoiding any authentic celebration of the Eucharist. After all, this gathering at table is of no practical use whatever (a morsel of bread, a sip of wine do nothing to fill the belly). But at the symbolic level, the bread and wine are food for life, a meal of hope, a banquet "rich in delights and suited to every taste."(Wisdom 16:20)
May our Eucharistic feast be rich in all delights, and delicious to our souls.
Blessings,
Sara+
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
July Pastor's Corner
Dear People of Christ Church,
This month’s issue crept up on us suddenly, and it occurred to me that last year I don’t think we even had a Fieldstone Crier in July; it’s a testament to just how much is going on that we didn’t want to skip the whole summer. The lunch program is up and running—thanks to our collaborative with other Waltham churches, free lunches are available to any child in our city under the age of 18, no questions asked, at an additional site in the city. In addition to the McDonald site where we’ve focused much of our energies, additional volunteers are also needed at the Whittemore school from July 6 to 31 during summer school (lunch is served 12-12:30; arrive 15 minutes early and stay 15 minutes later), so let me, Mike Balulescu, or Becky Phillips DeZalia know if you’d like to volunteer. There’s a lot to do—you’ll read more about B Safe on page 1 and Waltham history days below. Sarah Staley’s piece on page 3 concludes our series of “This I Believe” essays we wrote as part of our Lenten education. It’s been wonderful to hear each other’s stories as part of that series—thanks to everyone who participated.
It’s wonderful to see all of these signs of new life. I am so blessed to be the rector of such a growing church (yes, officially rector—the bishop signed the paperwork, so we are all set!). We have accomplished so much together in the last four years. I am so grateful to each of the parish leaders that have worked so hard over these last years, too, to get us where we are—I still remember what a gift it was to begin as priest in residence with Jim Hewitt and Marcia Luce as wardens back in 2005 (and to work again with Marcia as warden with Jonathan for these last 2 years). Chuck McCullough and Suzanne Hughes have managed our finances over these years with such grace and skill, and each and every vestry or committee member and pledger has been part of our success. Of course, there is still so much to do and we are not exactly on financial high ground, but we have traveled far together, and I am thankful to each of you for it. I’ve always had in the back of my mind the hope that I would be able to stay on in a more permanent way but to have it be officially settled is a great feeling. Deeper than a feeling—it’s a great vocation that we have been called into together.
Being the church isn’t so much about feelings as it is about who we are and what we do when we leave. A church I know has written in the bulletin after the dismissal, “the worship is over; the service begins.” The word “ecclesia” —Greek for “church” —means “called out.” We aren’t just called in to be church only on Sunday morning, we are called out to be the people of God in the world every day of our lives. Being a Christian is about proclaiming and practicing the truth that Jesus is Lord—not our national leaders in politics or government, not our own desire for esteem or comfort, but Jesus—the self-giving Beloved of God who lived his life in the service of peace and unconditional love for everyone.
Thanks be to God!
Blessings,
Sara+
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