Flowing Waters

Ivan the Great Bell Tower

2012-01-17T20:27:00.001-05:00

Dark Shadows and a Floor Concierge

2012-01-17T18:30:00.003-05:00

The Odessa Hotel in the third year of the Great Soviet Reconstruction was not the jewel of Moscow's rugged tourist trade..., and when you stepped from the juddering lift and braved the frown of your floor concierge, ...you were quite likely to have the sensation of being returned to the vilest institutions of your youth. (from The Russia House by John Le Carre.)

This description brings to mind four Russian hotels I remember. Two were in St. Petersburg, one in Moscow, and another in a town between the two cities. The first hotel was the Hotel Moskva. I was there in the summer after the revolution and again a year or so later. The hotel was built for tourist in the late 1970's and located across from Alexander Nevsky Square where the main street of St. Petersburg, the Nevsky Prospect, meets the Neva river. My first encounter with the hotel was not as a guest. Rather, I was hoping to find someone who would exchange rubles for dollars. In a darkened bar I met with a man who had a large roll of rubles and was eager to exchange them. Inflation was high and getting higher in Russia. The official exchange rate ignored this so under the counter exchanges were common.

A second hotel that comes to mind was a large one in Moscow. Another tourist hotel. This one was located outside the city center across the street from the broadcast tower of Moscow's television stations. The tower was the tallest structure in town. Two things impressed me about the hotel. One was that my floor concierge was a woman who invited me into her room where she had set up shop, selling matryoshka dolls and various hand-painted items. This would not have been permitted a few months before I arrived but was tolerated after the revolution. The other thing that grabbed my attention in the hotel's lobby were the prostitutes that arrived each evening. Beautiful young women. I remember waking up early one morning and looking out my window to see a procession of these women leaving the hotel after a night's work.

On another occasion, while riding with some friends from Moscow to St. Petersburg, we stopped at a hotel about midway between the two cities. They checked into one room and Deborah and I into the other. Before acquiring a room we had to complete a four or five page form which asked for everything from our passport numbers to the names of our grandparents. The registration process was overseen by a woman who could have come directly from central casting. The room was ghastly.

In Russia, I have stayed in people's homes , in monasteries, and have camped out in Siberia. I have also slept overnight in the cab of a truck. One of my sad experiences was back at the Moskva sometime after my first adventure there. We had driven to St. Petersburg with our friends from Moscow and chose to stay at the Moskva. This was a special treat for our friends. As we walked through the main entrance, the door man greeted me but was going to stop my friend, a native Russian. The doorman asked me if the Russian was with me. I nodded and everything was ok. How disturbing! My friend needed the approval of a foreign tourist to enter a hotel.

Some features were common to all these hotels with the exception of the ghastly one. Lots of languages spoken, busy lobbies, and buffets with all sorts of what we might call lunch meats, especially at breakfast. At one hotel outside of St. Petersburg, I was put up for the night by Aeroflot Airlines after my flight was cancelled. I was driven to the hotel from the airport by a man who said he would pick me up late the next morning. I arose early and had just begun to partake of the buffet of luncheon meats when he raced into the dining room and said we had to leave immediately in order to catch the flight. No time to savor the buffet.

Nowadays there are less eccentric hotels in Russia. Some very nice ones, in fact. The ones where I stayed in Moscow and St. Petersburg are still going strong. I wouldn't bet on the one with the woman from central casting.

A Temple of the Holy Spirit

2012-01-16T18:09:00.003-05:00

Sermon

Epiphany 2B, January 15, 2012

St. Augustine’s, Morrow, Georgia

(All the readings today in one way or another call attention to the connection between our spiritual and physical selves. The readings demonstrate that the spiritual and physical cannot be separated.)

In the story of Samuel and Eli, young Samuel hears the voice of God calling in the night. He is one who listens for the sacred. The story presents a scene in which God seems more like a person than a spirit. The ancient storytellers had no difficulty depicting God in this way. The presence of God was made known in ways that brought together the physical and the spiritual. God did not always stay in heaven but had a way of blessing, cursing, and meddling on earth. God was to be taken seriously. We see this in Eli’s response to the message that Samuel received. Eli said, It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.

In the epistle, Paul also wants to connect the physical to the spiritual. What we do with our bodies has spiritual consequences. He goes so far as to say, …do you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own?

Not your own. That sounds downright un-American. Anyway, isn’t God supposed to stay in the spiritual realm? What has God got to do with my body?

For Paul, God’s domain included everything, all creation. He is in good company in asserting this. The gospel writers believed it strongly. For example, Luke in his gospel proclaimed that when Jesus rode into Jerusalem had not the people shouted for him, the stones, themselves, would have immediately cried out. The earth and all upon the earth belong to God. There is no ultimate distinction between the physical and the spiritual. Everything is called to holiness. So Paul can say, …therefore glorify God with your body.

William Willimon, theologian and Methodist bishop, tells of his ministering to a young woman with anorexia nervosa, the self-induced wasting away of the body. It is an affliction in our society that represents self-starvation in a land of plenty. Upon the young woman’s death, Willimon commented that in our culture some women think they must sacrifice themselves on the altar of the God of Leanness. He said that at her funeral, we rose and repeated the words of the creed, “We believe in the life everlasting, the resurrection of the body.” He noted, We repeated these words in holy defiance, in righteous indignation, in faith, hope, and love that the same God who gave us our bodies would one day redeem both our bodies and this world of sin.

We make a mistake when we think we can separate the physical from the material. We belong to God, the earth belongs to God, our resources belong to God, and our bodies belong to God. And as such, our bodies are, indeed, temples of the Holy Spirit.

And now we come to today’s gospel: a reading that brings to fulfillment this connection between the spiritual and the physical. On the surface it is a simple story about Jesus and his first disciples. Jesus finds Philip and Philip finds Nathanael. Jesus has noticed some things about Nathaniel and this astounds Nathanael. Jesus promises more than this.

What is going on here is a kind of discernment that embodies both the physical and the spiritual. It begins with the physical: Jesus saw Nathanial under the fig tree. He beheld him with both spiritual and physical vision. When we bring together these two dimensions in speaking of Jesus, we like to say that he was fully divine and fully human. It was in this fullness that Jesus beheld Nathanael. Jesus saw in Nathanael not only a physical body but also the presence of what would come to be called the Holy Spirit. There was more to Nathanael than met the ordinary eye, and Jesus called it forth.

Nathanael was impressed. Jesus had connected the physical and the spiritual within him. His response was to say, Rabbi, you are the Son of God! But Jesus had more to say. To Nathanael he responded, …you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.

This was not to be some sort of magic show. Jesus would reveal in his daily life the connection between the spiritual and the physical. Heaven and earth would be revealed through him. In the holiness of his being, Jesus would be the God man, revealing a dimension of wholeness that would expand the possibilities for humanity beyond imagination. Early on the disciples has some awareness of this, as did Nathanael in today’s gospel. But it would take much longer for them to grasp the full meaning of this union of heaven and earth in Christ.

In the beginning of the gospel reading is a simple statement that showed the path forward. It was the path toward all that Jesus promised. Jesus said, Follow me. This was not just the promise of a wild adventure although adventurous it was. Follow me. Follow me with your feet, yes, but also with your heart and mind. Follow me with your faith and with your decision-making, with your livelihood and with your relationships. Follow me in believing that God is in everything and that there is no separation between the physical and the spiritual. Follow me in learning to love with every ounce of your spiritual and physical being. And follow me in knowing that you and everyone else belong to God and God will not let you go.

That invitation still rings true. When we pursue it, our views change. We come to see others and ourselves differently. We give up on dividing reality into different spheres: everything belongs to God. We come to see that many of our fears are groundless. For example, we may cease to fear so much being alone because we discover that God is always with us, in this life and in the next. We see that we are truly blessed to be a part of God’s creation, that life is not just about conquering or competing but also about befriending and supporting. We discover that true joy is greater than we imagined because we are in touch with the ground of our being, and that ground is solid.

Follow me. An invitation of love. An invitation from God to the people of God.

Merry Christmas

2011-12-14T20:24:00.001-05:00

Father and Daughter on New York Weekend

2011-12-07T20:58:00.000-05:00

40th Anniversary of Priesthood Ordination, St. Ambrose Day, December 7

2011-12-07T18:19:00.003-05:00

Forty years ago today I processed into St. Peter's Episcopal Church in Washington, North Carolina to be ordained a priest. The procession of acolytes, choir, priests, presenters, the soon to be ordained candidate, and bishops stretched around the block occupied by the old church yard. The local television station had a crew present to film a segment for the evening broadcast of local news. Inside, the church was filled. Even the balcony was crowded. We entered singing, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God. Bishop Thomas H. Wright presided accompanied by Bishop Coadjutor Hunley A. Elebash. I was presented with a lavishly made chasuble, designed with all the colorful flowers favored in the early 1970's. The Rev. Arthur Underwood, the rector with whom I did field work while at Virginia Seminary, was the preacher. After the liturgy, there was a dinner reception in the parish hall. Speeches, gifts, prayers and laughter filled the chamber while we dined. I haven't been back to St. Peter's in years, but when I was last there, photos of the event still hung on one of the hallway walls. Surely they are gone by now.

It is interesting to recall this entry into forty years of priestly service. Those first years were strong markers. I remember how delighted I was to be on one of the beautiful waterways in East Carolina. Since then I have been privileged to serve several wonderful parishes, including Holy Trinity where I spent the last ten years. For most Americans, today is foremost Pearl Harbor Day. I cherish it not only for that national memory, but also as a reminder of St. Amborse, the 4th Century Bishop of Milan, and as a day I entered into a vocation full of grace, adventure and wonder.

Guatemala adventure

2011-11-07T22:26:00.006-05:00

Video of my 2011 trip to Guatemala.

Servant Leadership

2011-10-29T20:01:00.003-04:00

Sermon
Proper 26A
October 30, 2011
Matthew 23:1-12

Holy Week is a long way off, yet the gospel reading this morning brings to mind the story of the Last Supper. On Maundy Thursday we hear of how Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. In doing this, he turned the normal understanding of leadership upside down by showing that a leader must also be a servant. This was shocking and elicited protests from those present. For Jesus, however, this act represented the essence of who he was and who he was calling his followers to be. A person cannot lead others unless he or she is willing to serve them. In some ways this insight is as radical in our time as it was in the time of Jesus. There are, however, men and women who adhere to the heartfelt notion of servant leadership.

Some of you may remember that when Bennett Sims retired as Bishop of the Diocese of Atlanta, he created an institute for servant leadership, first at Emory, then near Hendersonville, North Carolina. The program brought together people from all over the country to see what it meant to approach leadership from a servant perspective. Sims was not the first person in the United States to promote this kind of leadership. A fascinating man named Robert Greenleaf had earlier pioneered what this could look like. If you Google servant leadership you will see there are a number of organizations that are working to encourage this leadership style.

The gospel today provides a background for servant leadership. Leadership as revealed in Christ is not about the accumulation of power. Nor is it about the accumulation of wealth. While power and wealth may seem to be essential to authority in our society, this is challenged by the life and teachings of Jesus.

Servant leadership is not centered on self-service, a way of behaving with the goal of self-promotion. Rather, it embraces humility. Here’s why: The energy for this kind of leadership comes from a particular view of stewardship. The servant leader sees herself or himself as representing the Source of grace. This means that the leader is not a free agent in the sense of having no accountability but a person called to serve the Creator and Redeemer of life. The Prayer Book reminds us of the great paradox of faith in announcing that perfect freedom is found in God’s service.

When we operate from that perspective, how we see ourselves changes from the popular image of one with authority. We come to see authority more as empowerment for servanthood than as a means to serve ourselves.

Here is how I have seen this play out in a parish. Somehow, usually through someone open to a new vision, a possibility for servant leadership arises. Let’s say that someone is inspired to support a new ministry. A shift in energy takes hold. Some might call this the movement of the Holy Spirit. In order to embrace this new energy, some changes need to be made such as an examination of mission and resources. Sometimes this becomes such an obstacle that further growth into servant leadership is not possible. People are unwilling to embrace change. But, it can also present an opportunity, a crisis that leads to a more mature faith. When this happens a parish can become more grounded in an understanding of stewardship that reflects the authority of Christ in its life.

Ideally as Christians we should be grounded in servant leadership all the time. But often it takes a crisis or an inspired occurrence for us to refocus on our calling as baptized members of Christ. We are always being tempted to approach our faith through the eyes of the scribes and Pharisees within us. We are tempted to put our self-interest above that of Christ’s interest.

Learning this lesson came hard for the first disciples. Take Peter for example. You may remember the story of Peter’s bringing Jesus to his house to heal his mother-in-law. When word of what happened got around the village, people started knocking on Peter’s door with sick relatives. Peter was in the envious position of controlling access to Jesus, something that would have been highly prized in a culture based largely on patronage. Just as Peter was enjoying his new authority, Jesus said it was time to leave. Peter protested but Jesus was determined that his movement not use authority for self-service.

Heaven knows that the church has neglected servant leadership plenty of times over the years. Still, we have held up those such as St. Francis who have modeled a leadership centered on faithful stewardship rather than self-service.

In our time the world is much in need of servant leadership. We need leaders who are willing to discern the call of grace, who are willing to deny themselves for the welfare of others and who are committed to an authentic and compassionate use of authority. Servant leadership is a gift to the world. The church can commit to being an embodiment of leadership that seeks to serve rather than be served.

So how does this play out in Madison? Is the Church of the Advent seen as a servant leader in the community? How is the Holy Spirit working among you to give energy for service in Christ’s name?

One of the things I noticed during my ten years at Holy Trinity Parish was that whenever the congregation became inspired about ministry, whenever the focus became more than self-service, adequate resources always materialized. When there would be a lack of focus on ministry, however, a concern for scarcity would often follow. Servant leadership is in the DNA of the church. We lose our authenticity when we fail to serve. Too much focus on self-service robs us of the grace we have been given.

Margaret J. Wheatley, writer, consultant, and speaker associated with servant leadership, writes of an interview she once heard on the radio. A geologist was explaining the effects of hurricanes on beaches. He said that he loved to visit beaches after hurricanes. The reporter wanted to know what the geologist expected to find. Margaret says that she thought he was going to say he expected to see the damage caused by the storm, but what he said was he expected to find a new beach. Finding a new beach is a good description of the joy of servant leadership. Finding a new beach in the midst of chaos, a new beach of reconciliation, forgiveness, and compassion.

Servant leadership focuses on the wonder of life and the love of God. It is not consumed with self because it knows that grace undergirds all existence. It identifies with generosity and seeks new beaches for service, new ways to express gratitude.

When I think of people who have truly inspired me, they are people with generous spirits. They are people who live by a vision that affirms and encourages and respects. Servanthood in this sense is not a life of slavery but a way to discover that there is more to life than we imagine, a way to find perfect freedom in God.

The gospel calls us to be servant leaders. That is what the mission of the church is ultimately about: a call to live more fully by serving the world through Jesus Christ our Lord. This can be messy and is often difficult. Consider, for example, the current crisis at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London regarding the protesters camped out around the building. There are many issues to consider. How does the church respond to a social movement that claims to address unfair economic policies largely through nonviolent demonstrations but may also inconvenience and possibly cause harm to the building, those entering it, and nearby neighbors? Does the church exercise force against the protesters? Are there similarities between what is going on at St. Paul’s and the biblical story of Jesus’ cleansing the temple? What, if anything, needs to be cleansed at St. Paul’s? When is it appropriate for the church to challenge economic structures?

The situation at St. Paul’s is provocative, but it demonstrates that servant leadership does not necessarily mean having ready answers. It always calls us to probe deeper into our motivations and to discern prayerfully our course of action as stewards of grace and servants of Christ.

We remember that Christians and others have died in the pursuit of servant leadership. It would be misleading to suggest that seeking to live a life of grace is easy and blissful. The gospel challenges us. We are called to make a difference in the world, and that call may nudge us beyond our comfort zones.

That is the leadership ministry into which we have been baptized. It is the way our Savior lived and died and rose again. Through the power of the Holy Spirit we are being shaped as servant leaders in the name of Christ. We are being called into the life of perfect freedom through service to the God of grace and wonder.

Going back to Texas

2011-10-23T12:39:00.007-04:00

Country musician Wayne Hancock sings about going back to Texas. I remember listening to another song with that same name recorded early in the 20th Century on a 78 rpm disc. Bob Wills, a founder of Western Swing, probably takes the prize for writing nostalgic songs about Texas. Anyway, this lead-in sets the tone for some reflections on my recent trip to Texas for my 49th high school class reunion.

Thank goodness for name tags! People change in almost half a century. Actually a few- very few-looked much like they did when we graduated in 1962. Others were identifiable once engaged in conversation. It was interesting to hear the stories classmates told. Some shared amazing adventures while others had not ventured far over the years.

On the week-end of the reunion, my home town held an annual October festival. Since it was a few days before my birthday, I saw it as a big birthday party. People were gathered all around the square and down side streets. Especially fun for me was a visit to the local train depot museum. I remember getting off the train at the station back in the 50's. Also interesting was a museum in the old fire station that housed a Don Meredith exhibit. Don grew up in Mt. Vernon where his parents operated a dry goods store. Upstairs in the museum was a rare bird egg collection. I remember hearing a story on NPR a few years ago about the collection. The Smithsonian wanted the bird eggs but the small Texas town was determined to maintain the collection. I was impressed with the climate controlled display area.

When I was growing up, US Highway 67 carried a large amount of traffic right through the center of town. Now, Interstate 30 runs two or three miles south of town and most of the traffic around the square is local. Where once there were department stores, cafes, drug stores, variety stores and the usual kind of shops available in county seat towns of mid 20th Century America, now there are antique stores, restaurants, gift shops and other businesses with few of the basic kinds of stores and services available. Some merchants have moved out toward the Interstate, which is typical of most towns on super highways. Amidst these changes, such as the closing of the Joy Theater where I spent many a Saturday afternoon as a child, the town has continued to grow. A lake south of town draws folks to the area as do some new industries and the peace and quiet of a small town only an hour and a half from Dallas.

For people who live in Mt. Vernon, the present takes precedent over the past. But as I drove around town, I kept remembering things the way they once were. It was good to see that the town had not withered away, that there were new schools and churches and that the courthouse was being restored. I had considered going back to visit family members who still live there for some time; the class reunion gave me impetus to hop on a Delta jet for Dallas. Going back to Texas was a good venture. I hope to mosey down that way again.

Hot day in Texas

2011-10-22T20:27:00.000-04:00

Where cowboys shop

2011-10-22T20:24:00.000-04:00

Changing directions

2011-09-24T21:55:00.002-04:00

Sermon
Matthew 21:23-32
Pentecost 15, Proper 21
September 25, 2011

The news headlines were pretty shocking this past week. There was worse than usual news of economic despair, debates about whether or not Palestine should be admitted as a sovereign country to the United Nations, word of fighting in the Middle East, bickering in the Congress, and stories of two men put to death, one in Georgia and one in Texas. All this and more make it exhausting to read a newspaper or watch the news.

So how does the gospel we heard today relate to the angst of our time? What would Jesus say to the headlines of this past week?

The parable Jesus relates about the two brothers and the vineyard speaks to where many of us find ourselves. Our intentions are good but somehow we don’t quite make the mark. The temptation is to stand by our intentions and disregard what is really happening. Whenever I see the U.S. House of Representatives stumble into dysfunction, I think of how intentions are not enough. The ability to work together requires an ability to change our minds and hearts when faced with destructive consequences.

Take the first son in the parable. Although he first refused to go to the vineyard, he changed his mind and went. He saw a need for change within himself. Maybe out of respect for his father or maybe because the work needed to be done, the young man was able to repent, which means to change direction. This ability to change direction is crucial for embracing the kingdom of God. That’s because everyone needs to repent from time to time. No call, no matter how noble or profound, can ever keep us from sinking. That was a lesson learned by the apostle Peter on the Sea of Galilee. We all have missteps.

When we work the need for repentance into the equation, we come to see the world differently. Whereas we may have believed that the most important thing was to be right, now we may place a higher value on grace. Forgiveness becomes a part of the rhythm of our lives. Forgiveness of others and forgiveness of ourselves.

Over the years I have seen families torn apart by an unwillingness to forgive. People became locked in their beliefs and refused to change direction. In the end they lost out on relationships that could have brought them joy and meaning.

Jesus goes on to talk about prostitutes and tax collectors going into the kingdom of God before those who considered themselves righteous. In our country these days we are sometimes challenged to avoid self-righteousness. One antidote for this is to learn how to forgive.

I thought of this the night Troy Davis was executed. There is probably nothing much harder to forgive than the murder of someone we love. We may say we want justice but what we likely mean is that we want revenge. There is no justice for the tragic loss of a loved one. We settle for what we think is the best we can get, which may be revenge. Revenge, however, cannot do for us what forgiveness can.

The Troy Davis execution is an extreme example of choices we face every day. Do I forgive the guy who pulled out in front of me or do I enter into road rage and go after him? Do I forgive my spouse for something she said or do I distance myself from her? Do I leave the church over something that happened or do I pray that I will be able to forgive as I am forgiven?

Years back, author Scott Peck wrote a book entitled, The Road Less Traveled. He presented a case for living with what we might call kingdom values. He noted that a commitment to such a way of life is not always easy. Repentance and forgiveness are foundation stones in the faith we proclaim. At the Great Thanksgiving this morning, notice how frequently the word forgiveness occurs.

Another little book that has been out for a while is entitled, How People Change. Primarily, the author says, change takes practice, practice, and more practice. This kind of discipline has a long history in the church where daily prayer, reading of the scriptures, and confession and reconciliation have shaped much of what we believe.

The gospel today calls us back to the basics of our faith. Repentance, a willingness to change directions. Forgiveness, a willingness to let go of what we believe is rightfully ours so that we may be reconciled with God, our neighbor and ourselves.

I find that I have to recommit to these basic values over and over. Recently, my neighbor decided to build a large deck on his corner lot. This meant that next to my front yard would be a monster deck with a large barbeque grill towering over our driveway. He built the deck without a city permit and then learned he needed a variance. Here was my chance to complain at the hearing. He had built the deck without any regard for his neighbor. On the day before the zoning board meeting, he came over to see if I planned to attend the meeting. I indicated that I planned to be there. He knew that a neighbor’s opinion would be taken seriously in a request for a variance. What, he wanted to know, could he do to keep from having to tear down the deck. I considered my opposition and decided that my relationship with my neighbor was more important than having to live with an eyesore. He agreed to plant an evergreen between the deck and my driveway and I told him I would support him at the meeting. Here was an instance where both of us needed to be willing to turn from our original intentions. I needed to forgive my neighbor.

These kinds of things come up over and over and give us the opportunity to practice repentance. Sometimes we choose not to repent. We address that choice in the confession we’ll say this morning. And we’ll celebrate forgiveness in the absolution of sin.

The parable of the two brothers represents the pulls and tugs we experience as we pursue a life of faith. The gospel invites us to walk courageously in the way of repentance and embrace joyfully the way of forgiveness.

Music and words flowed together

2011-09-16T10:39:00.001-04:00

Last week I attended a concert performed to remember those who were killed on 9/11/2001. Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit by Bach and Requiem, op. 9 by Duruflé were sung, accompanied by an orchestra and organ. Bach's piece drew heavily on the Hebrew scriptures while that of Duruflé mainly relied on verses from the New Testament. I was reminded of how art is able to express things deeply human. The music flowed in and through the words and vice versa. These art forms expressed what ordinary signs and sounds could not.

It takes imagination to explore the depths of life. Things that truly matter call for a soulful language; ordinary expressions struggle to convey their meaning. This is the role of religious language. It seeks to address matters that are too deep for ordinary words. Religious language is an art form not to be treated as normal conversation but as poetry, as words that transcend their ordinary meaning.

As I listened to the concert, I thought of how rich these ancient words are. Without such poetry to express the loss and sadness of 9/11, we would be left with lesser expressions of grief. The ancient poets drew deeply from the well of human experience.

There are those today who continue to have the courage and imagination to explore life poetically. We are indebted to them for giving us linguistic pathways to a fuller life.

9/11

2011-09-07T18:51:00.001-04:00

Prophetic Ministry in the National Security State
Walter Brueggemann1
Abstract

Faithful Christian preaching in the United States is in the context of the ideology of the national security state, an ideology that permeates every facet of our common life. In that difficult and demanding context, this essay urges that Christian preaching must go back to basics, that everything depends on the mystery of faith, that “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” From that elemental claim, it is proposed that at the center of faith and faithful experience is an abyss that in the Old Testament came as the destruction of Jerusalem and in the U.S. national security state comes to be epitomized as “9/11.” Focusing on the abyss, according to that ideology, evokes denial about going into the abyss and despair about ever getting out of it. The prophetic rejoinder to such denial is truth telling, and the prophetic response to despair is hope telling. This truth has a Friday tone, and this hope has a Sunday flavor. Such truth and hope expose the ideology of the national security state as a promise that cannot be kept and invite alternative discipleship that issues in joy and freedom outside that system of death. In its original form, this essay was an address delivered at the 2007 Festival of Homiletics in Nashville.

2011-08-27T15:52:00.000-04:00

Sermon

Matthew 16:21-28

Pentecost 11, Proper 17

August 28, 2011

The long, hot days of summer will soon come to an end. It’s the time of years when a few leaves lose their fight against the summer sun and fall to the ground. Unwatered grass begins to turn brown and the season of hurricanes comes upon us. The first signs of change are in the air.

In today’s gospel, the first signs of change are also in the air. At a time of enormous popularity, a time when followers of Jesus envisioned a domain of growing influence and power, Jesus began to speak of his execution. The first leaf had fallen. A shade of brown could be seen upon the grass.

Why speak of disaster when things are going well? Jesus’ disciples were shocked. Peter replied, God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.

I’ve never been to Las Vegas but I imagine it to be a place where good luck is highly valued. A place where some people want to beat the odds and others want to trust the odds. And behind this is the notion that chance can be controlled either by skillful playing or luck.

Maybe Peter and the disciples believed that luck was on their side or that Jesus could skillfully control the destiny of events. Jesus was having none of this. He knew what the odds were. He knew he had charted a course that would sooner or later run afoul of the rules of the game as determined by those in power. The house was against him

The task Jesus faced was to turn losing into winning. In the gospel today he began to do this by talking about what loss really is. He said that those who want to save their life will lose it. Those who lose their life for [his] sake will find it. Jesus was beginning to turn things upside down. He was changing the house rules.

Jesus was a rule changer. Through his life and death, he revealed that the kingdom of God did not follow the house rules.

Many of the rules in Jesus’ time were set by Caesar. Roman society and Rome’s occupied lands around the Mediterranean were structured like a social pyramid with Caesar on the top and people with no influence on the bottom. Those to be served were on the top and those who served were on the bottom. Jesus demonstrated that God’s kingdom did not follow Caesar’s rules. What Rome believed to be cast down was being raised up

One thing to keep in mind is that today’s gospel was written after the resurrection. It has the advantage of hindsight. It tells the story of Jesus from an Easter perspective. So when Jesus confronts Peter for protesting the news of his upcoming execution, we have a glimpse into the Easter faith of the early church. Matthew knows the rest of the story. He lets Peter speak for all who doubt the resurrection, for all who would prefer to play by house rules rather than by God’s rules. Matthew has a vantage point that sees beyond the immediate into a realm where, according to another bible witness, there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Matthew knows the rules have changed.

The gospel confronts us with the question, by whose rules are we living? Caesar vanished long ago, but Caesar’s Palace flourishes, not only in Las Vegas, but wherever we fail to live by the cross of Jesus. Wherever we live by fear or greed or death. Wherever we let the rules of the house rule our lives.

During this long, hot summer we have seen people in Arab lands rise up against tyranny. We have seen people refuse to live by house rules that disenfranchise them. In those lands things that were cast down are being raised up. Things are being turned upside down.

The good news in today’s gospel, which is challenging with its announcement of Jesus’ pending execution, is that we don’t have to be afraid of the future. We don’t have to depend on luck or even our skill at beating the odds. No matter how bad things are, no matter how bad the rules may be, there is power in the future that can transform the present. Even a death sentence can be redeemed. Even a broken relationship. Even a broken heart. Hopelessness can be transformed into hope.

This good news is hard to hear when the old rules weigh heavily. It is hard to hear hope in Jesus’ words about his death. But Jesus came to reveal that change is in the air. The kingdom of Caesar may not be trustworthy but the kingdom of God is. The church through the years has stood by this, stood by a risen savior who changes the rules so that we might know the love of God and the wonder of being alive. Jesus with wounded hands welcomes us into a realm where hope reigns. All we need do is take up our cross and follow him.

2011-08-06T10:03:00.004-04:00

Sermon

Proper 14A

August 7, 2011

William Thomas Deneke

Dysfunction lives on in today’s reading from Genesis. Jacob, like both his father and his mother, had a favorite child. His preferential treatment of Joseph led his other sons to despise their brother. Joseph, for his part, realized early on that he was special in the family and acted this out. So, on that day in the village of Dothan things came to a head. It is unfortunate that there was no intervention in this dysfunctional family. Had the family sought help, everyone might have been spared much pain and grief.

What we know from the rest of the story is that there was, indeed, a grand reconciliation. It came later in Egypt after life had tempered everyone’s passions and circumstances had greatly changed. In today’s reading, though, things don’t look so good. There is not a trace of redemption to be seen.

We sometimes find ourselves in situations that seem hopeless. Take Peter in the gospel reading we heard. There he was in the dark, a storm raging around him, and he found himself literally over his head.

In times like these we like to think that our faith will carry us through. But it doesn’t always work that way. It didn’t work for Peter. He may have entered the situation with faith but he seemed to lose it as he sank beneath the surface. In both the story of Peter and that of Joseph, things have spun out of control.

On this past Friday, I attended the burial of a dear friend I had known for 32 years. Lou Marshall was a remarkable person. As a psychiatrist, she had been chief of staff at a hospital in Augusta and the examining psychiatrist for those seeking ordination in the Diocese of Georgia. (Yes, we do have to have our heads examined in order to become a priest.)

Lou had an expression that has stuck with me over the years. She said, Sooner or later your parachute opens and down you go. If we live long enough we all find ourselves in the pit with Joseph or in over our heads with Peter. And like Peter, we may, one way or another, cry out, Lord, save me!

What strikes me about both of these stories is the way salvation is found. For Joseph, the very thing intended for evil – his being sold to passers-by – turns out to be what rescues not only him but also his whole family. In the gospel, what Peter and those in the boat feared – a ghost – turns out to be their rescuer.

The scriptures invite us to consider a providential view of life. Providence, not in the sense of predestination, but in the sense that life is ultimately redemptive.

We can certainly look around and question whether or not there is a force for redemption in the world. The very sad stories coming out of Somalia just this past week reveal almost endless suffering. As a people of faith, however, we are called to affirm that goodness is somehow a part of creation’s DNA. How redemption happens is entangled in the mystery of God’s providence.

I’m reminded of Harry Emerson Fosdick’s statement regarding the very poor, uneducated and suffering children he encountered in his ministry. Their plights appeared hopeless in this life so Fosdick believed that they would receive PhDs in heaven.

While heaven may promise redemption, both the Hebrew scriptures and the gospel also proclaim redemption for this planet and those on it. The stories of Joseph and Peter are about the love of God at work against great odds. In both accounts, rescue comes through sheer grace. Neither Joseph nor Peter pulls himself up by his bootstraps.

I have been fortunate to be a part of a team devoted to bring clean water to Haiti. The team is led by Ed Buckley, an Atlanta attorney. As planes land and depart from the Port au Prince airport, off to the side is a water tower with the word hope painted on it. Around that tower is a neighborhood built on a swamp. Not long ago it was a place of disease. Now it is a community with a school and a garden, with new houses that have replaced ones built of sticks and mud. Clean water is available to all. What was a place of misery is now a community of hope.

God’s redemptive providence is revealed in many ways. Wherever there is hope, forgiveness, and compassion redemption is at work.

In the story of Joseph and his brothers, forgiveness will restore a broken family. In the life of the disciples, hope will be discovered even as they mourn.

Remember Jesus’ words to those in the sinking boat: Take heart… Another translation is Hang in there; keep the faith. Those are words for hard times. And even better is the realization that we are not alone. The living Jesus is in the boat with us. God is in the pit beside us. Furthermore, we can support one another. We can be living reminders of hope and redemption.

I would like to close with a story about John Henry Newman who was recently canonized in London. Newman was deathly ill and had gone to Sicily to recover in the warm climate. This was when sea travel was by sailing ship. As he was recovering, a plague struck the island and Newman again became very ill. At last, as he set sail for his home in England, his ship became stuck at sea because there was no wind. After several days, the ship's stores were exhausted and Newman knew there was a likelihood that he would die. One night, terribly weakened, he dragged himself to the ship's deck and, staring into the windless darkness, he composed these lines:  

Lead kindly light, amid the encircling gloom,

Lead thou me on.  

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on. 

Keep thou my feet: I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.

2011-07-29T21:34:00.004-04:00

Sermon

Pentecost 7, Proper 13A

July 31, 2011

William Thomas Deneke

We’re presented with two great stories today. We hear how Jacob sought yet another blessing after he had already stolen one from his brother. And we hear about the feeding of over 5000 people on a lakeshore. A remarkable feat as there were only five loaves of bread and two fish to be had.

Let’s start with the story of Jacob. For several weeks we have been hearing about Jacob and his dysfunctional family. His grandfather Abraham had disinherited most of his children. His mother had schemed against his brother Esau to help Jacob steal his brother’s birthright, and his uncle Laban had tricked Jacob the trickster into years of indentured servanthood. The escapades of this family would make a good soap opera.

In today’s installment, we enter into the realm of mystery. A stranger comes in the night and wrestles with Jacob. It is never clear who the stranger is. After the encounter is over, however, Jacob is heard to say, I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.

The encounter Jacob had was life changing. This is revealed in the exchange Jacob and the stranger had regarding names. In the struggle Jacob wanted a blessing, something he always seemed to be after. Remember he had obtained by trickery the blessing meant for his brother. The stranger would not tell Jacob his name; that would have given Jacob power over him. However, when the stranger asked Jacob what his name was, Jacob told him. This, I believe was a crucial point in the story. Up to this time Jacob had never deliberately made himself vulnerable. He had lied about his name and denied who he was. He had tricked his way through life, meeting his match in his uncle Laban. Jacob was psychologically, emotionally and socially ready for a conversion. And it came that night under the stars. Through grace or exhaustion, he allowed the stranger, who appeared to him as God, to have power over him. And in the words of our evangelical brothers and sisters, Jacob was born again. His new name, Israel, revealed his new person.

Of course, this is more of a mythic story than a personal account. Still, in the wonder of Jacob’s encounter, something happened that was remembered as a defining point in the shaping of ancient Hebrews. From this point on, the family dynamics of the patriarchs and matriarchs would change. Jacob and Esau would be reconciled. What was broken would be redeemed.

Let’s look at the reading from Matthew. There are six stories in the New Testament about Jesus’ feeding multitudes. The one we heard this morning is typical with a few changes such as the number fed. The opening line of what we heard, Jesus withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself, follows on the heel of Jesus’ learning that John the baptizer was dead. According to the reading, …when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. That is the background for the story.

Over five thousand people in mourning turn up hungry. A surprising turn of events takes place when Jesus tells the disciples to solve the problem. You give them something to eat, he said.

What the disciples came up with was five loaves of bread and two fish. Jesus took what was available, and taking the role of a Jewish father at a meal, gave thanks, broke the bread and gave it to his disciples to distribute.

In this experience everyone had plenty to eat and there were twelve baskets of food left over. The story was clearly a favorite in the early church with six versions floating around. It spoke to Jesus’ compassion and to the mystery of abundance he proclaimed. The reading also included a strong eucharistic message.

There is a story that comes to mind about a young man who was listening to the priest explain the Eucharist and heard him speak of the "elephants" that would be brought down the aisle. He was entranced by the prospect of such great beasts coming down the aisle, wondered where they had been kept, and wondered how they would actually participate. Some months later, in another sermon focusing on the meaning of the Eucharist, the young man heard the word more accurately, and realized it was the elements that would be brought down the aisle. While his understanding had deepened and grown, he had also lost something - the excitement of waiting for the elephants, the mystery of the details, and the joy of the image of elephants somehow taking part in the Eucharist. This gospel reading is, in many ways, about elephants and the Eucharist. It highlights God’s compassion, tweaks our imaginations, and leaves us to wonder in thanksgiving.

One of the things I like about some of the alternative liturgies is the response of the congregation to the readings. The lector says, Hear what the spirit is saying to the church. With that in mind, let’s look again at Jacob. The story says a great deal about redemption. A trickster can be delivered from his sorry ways. In his willingness to wrestle with God, Jacob was redeemed. He prevailed against the shadows and darkness that he had earlier courted.

In one way or another most of us are called to wrestle with shadows. Perhaps inner demons or memories or unhealthy attitudes. In facing his shadows, Jacob came to terms with his past by the stream of Jabbok. He went forth a new man with a new name. We do well to remember the promise of this story.

Then there is the story of the loaves and fishes. While I was at Holy Trinity, an iconographer visited the parish from Romania. Sister Eliseea was a wonderful person and painted beautiful icons. A parishioner purchased one and gave it to the church. In the chancel behind the choir is a lovely icon entitled the multiplication of loaves. It is a depiction of the gospel we heard this morning. I liked where it was hung because it is near the steps leading to the nave. As worshippers return to their seats after receiving communion, they pass by this vivid reminder of the wonder and mystery of Christ’s compassion.

These days some people are convinced that too much attention is given to the poor and those in need. Today’s gospel challenges this view. Wherever there is hunger, we can hear the voice of our lord say, You give them something to eat. Our stewardship of resources empowers us to share, not hoard. The gospel story presents the abundance of God’s gifts, gifts put in our care to share compassionately.

It is a marvel to see what can happen when gospel stewardship is practiced. Over five thousand people were fed from an initial offering of five loaves and two fish. Hear what the spirit is saying to the church.

Let us pray. O God, we give thanks for Jacob, a scoundrel redeemed and blessed. Give us his courage to face our demons. We give thanks for the Gospel stories of multitudes fed. Give us the faith and the courage to embrace the truth of your abundance and help us not to be hoarders and misers. We pray in the name of the one who saves us, Jesus the lover of people. Amen.

Winky Dink and You

2011-07-21T20:12:00.003-04:00

Thinking about Erector Sets reminds me of another episode from my childhood. A couple of years before I had the joy of owning an Erector Set, I had developed the habit of watching television on Saturday mornings until something more promising came along. One of the early children's programs of those days was called Winky Dink and You. Winky Dink was a poorly animated little guy who appeared on a small monitor beside host Jack Barry. He had a knack for getting into misadventures, and that's when the Winky Dink sets came in.

A frequent miss step for the little fellow was to come to a river without a bridge. The solution was to draw one on the magic Winky Dink screen stuck to the front of the tv. To do so, it was necessary to have a Winky Dink kit. And therein lay my problem. I had joined some Saturday morning television clubs and received cards and such in the mail but I had never ordered a Winky Dink kit. Ever resourceful, I taped a sheet of wax paper on the television. True, this challenged my ability to see where to draw the bridge. But it was possible through the blur of the paper to make a pretty good guess. The real problem came in drawing on the wax paper with crayons. There was nothing to be seen even when I went over the drawing several times. Fortunately, even though the bridge I drew was invisible, Winky Dink was always able to cross the stream.

In time Winky Dink fell out of favor and was replaced by such shows as Watch Mr. Wizard. I'm sure my mother was glad as her wax paper was no longer needed.

Summertime

2011-07-21T19:17:00.003-04:00

As a kid, I found summers both freeing and challenging. I was so glad when the last day of class came, but as weeks dragged on, things could become a little boring. Of course, there were lots of friends like David, Jimmy and Terry. But then there were long hot afternoons in Texas that called for a cool imagination. Fortunately, I had a lot of games and things to help deal with heat waves.

One of the most useless resources at my command was an Erector Set. The set was given to me one Christmas and promised entertainment only limited by my imagination. It came in an attractive box and consisted of a myriad of metal pieces ready to be joined in all sorts of configurations. Included were wheels and even a small electric motor.

If it sounds boring, that is because it was. If I set out to build, say, a merry-go-round, there would not be enough uniform pieces. It might be round on one side and square on the other.

Erector sets were hot items in the 1950's, and that probably says something about the decade. In keeping with the times, I had a grand vision of building a robot. The idea likely came from watching science fiction movies on Saturday afternoons at the Joy Theater. The wheels provided with the set did not appear to me worthy of a robot base. A much better option was the base of an old Hoover vacuum cleaner I found in a storage room. It turned out that the base was bigger than the robot. Also, the electric motor was not strong enough to move the heavy Hoover part along. Even if it had been, there would have been extension cords to deal with. The final design called for a long piece of twine attached to the front wheels.

The project likely kept me busy for a couple of hours while the summer sun blazed and parents sought to keep their children safe from polio and sun burns. Somewhere along the way I lost track of the Erector Set. The Hoover vacuum cleaner base would still make a good anchor for a cruise ship.

Holy place

2011-07-16T02:06:00.005-04:00

Sermon

Pentecost 5, Proper 11A

July 17, 2011

William Thomas Deneke

Again, the Hebrew scriptures present us with Abraham’s dysfunctional family, and with the wonder of God who brings forth grace from chaos.

After stealing his brother Esau’s blessing with the help of his mother, Jacob takes off for a safe haven far away from his brother. On his way he comes to a place where he and his entourage choose to spend the night. A place, it turns out, that had long been considered holy and would again become a blessing even to this wayward descendent of Abraham.

Holy places are interesting. They proliferate in the bible. Even today we sometimes associate places with sacredness. The seminary I attended sits on the holy hill in Alexandria, Virginia. We may even say that some places represent a thin place between heaven and earth, a place where the wonder of God may be encountered.

Here at Holy Comforter, no doubt, there are places on the grounds or in the buildings that have more meaning than others. Places where you may feel close to God or find that you have a sense of well-being.

That’s what Jacob found at his campsite. He discovered this through a dream. In the dream, he saw a ramp reaching to heaven. This often gets translated as ladder, but ramp is more accurate. It was not a ramp for him to ascend but one on which angels moved up and down. Then the Lord stood beside Jacob with a message very similar to one given to his grandfather Abraham years earlier. Essentially, the land there and beyond would one day belong to his offspring, family, tribe.

Awakening from the dream, Jacob pronounces the place holy. He takes the stone that he had placed under his head and sets it up as a monument. He blesses it by pouring holy oil upon it and names it Bethel.

Likely the stone had already been put there as a sign that the place was holy. In fact, the name Bethel means House of God in the language of the Canaanites, the people who lived in this region before the Israelites.

There is a hymn entitled, Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place. Maybe you have sung it or heard it. Yesterday I put a video of Tonica Campbell singing the song on my blog, www.williamdeneke.com. If you are able, check it out. She does a good job.

A good question for us is, What makes a place holy? Probably a number of things go into something being identified as sacred, but two are especially important. The first is what it means for human well-being and the second is how it reveals the beauty of God.

I put human well-being first because of the Incarnation. Jesus lived and died for people. A special place, a holy place, should affirm people. Certainly, the church as a holy place exists to bless and love people.

A holy place also needs to reveal wonder and beauty. That is the main reason that we decorate and beautify our churches. It is also the reason that we are drawn to beautiful places in nature. They reveal the beauty of God. Of course, we can also worship in a warehouse or in the middle of a wasteland, but beauty remains important in defining holy places.

At my house in Decatur there is a flower garden in the side yard. I love to work in it, to tend the flowers, water the plants, and simply be in the midst of a place of beauty. I find it to be a sacred experience. The garden reveals to me something of the beauty and wonder of God.

At Holy Comforter, holiness is revealed in your concern for the well-being of all who come here and even for those who do not. Love for people makes this place, this community, holy.

And beauty is everywhere at Holy Comforter. First in the people, and also in the building and grounds, the liturgy with its music and color, and in the details of community life carefully tended to. Surely, the presence of the Lord is in this place.

The story of Jacob’s experience shows us that holy places have a long history among the people of God. We are forever looking for places that join heaven to earth. Through Christ we also know that holiness resides in people as well as places. God’s love falls generously upon the earth. We are called to find beauty and sacredness in one another, and to celebrate that holy presence in every way we can.

This morning, I join you in giving thanks for this holy place and for the holy people of God here gathered. Like Jacob’s pillar of stone, the stone in the altar before us reminds us of the goodness and beauty of God and that these holy attributes are present within and among us. We proclaim this holy presence whenever we say the simple but powerful words, the gifts of God for the people of God.

Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place

2011-07-16T01:57:00.001-04:00

Grace and fear

2011-07-09T15:01:00.003-04:00

Sermon, Proper 10, Year A

July 10, 2011

William Thomas Deneke

The Hebrew scriptures today present a portion of the Story of Esau and Jacob, twin brothers who were the epitome of sibling rivalry.

The story reminds me of the birth of my grandson, Courtland. When he was born, his sister, Ella, was four. Up until that then, she had been an only child and we figured there would be some challenges for her when her brother arrived. Courtland’s birth was due at the end of December, 2008. Ella was focused on Christmas. Then on December 17th my wife and I got a call in which Ella said in a disappointed matter, “Granddad, he’s already here!” Her dad told us that when he was driving everyone home from the hospital, Ella informed him that Courtland was “being mean to her”. Also, she was upset that he had a blanket and she didn’t. Before they walked through their front door, sibling rivalry was well at work.

Anyone who has ever been a part of a family or even a group knows that families and groups bring together all sorts of dynamics. Take the family of Esau and Jacob for example. There are two ongoing themes at work. One is that God’s hope is at work in this family, and the other is that the family is sadly dysfunctional. We end up with a spirit of grace and hope manifested through broken relationships and self-serving behaviors.

Esau sold his birthright as the firstborn to his brother for a bowl of stew. He came in from the field hungry one day and there was Jacob ready to take advantage of his brother’s impulsiveness. Plotting, deceit and irresponsibility were all at work early on in this family. Grandfather Abraham had disinherited seven of his eight sons and their families, while the fear and brokenness seen in the rivalry and competition between Esau and Jacob was encouraged by their parents, Rebekah and Isaac. Rebekah favored Jacob, the second born twin, and did all she could to better his position in the family. Issac favored Esau, the first-born twin who was set to inherit Jacob’s birthright. It is hard to imagine a better way to perpetuate animosities.

The human family is a lot like that of Abraham and his descendants. There is plotting and deceit a plenty on this small planet. This is what God has to work with.

That is not to say that we cannot be gracious. Indeed, that is also within humanity’s ability. When we are tempted to turn against God’s compassion, and when we become discouraged with human brokenness, it is important to remember that grace still makes the world go round. Grace still revealed the God of hope in the dysfunctional family of Esau and Jacob.

The gospel for today, the story of sowing seeds, also addresses how we respond to the challenges of life. The grace of God is sown upon the earth, sometimes falling where it is not wanted, sometimes falling on rocky ground, places in us where there is no depth, sometimes falling where something else takes priority and grace goes unnurtured, and sometimes falling on just the right place.

That leaves the spiritual feeding of the world up to those who will cultivate and nurture the grace they receive.

Grace faces plenty of competitions in our lives. Such weeds as bitterness, despair, revenge, prejudice, cynicism, selfishness, and greed can choke out the seeds of grace. Hard hearts can prevent compassion from developing deep roots. And, goodness knows there are thorns enough in life to choke out hope.

A big question for this small world is “How do we develop spiritual farming methods on this earth, ways of being faithful stewards of God’s grace that encourage growth of compassion and hope among all people?"

A number of years ago I came to a time in my ministry when I wanted to find a place where people were really grappling with how to cultivate hope not only for themselves but for others as well. I wanted to find a model of community built around a commitment to cultivate the rich soil of God’s grace. I came upon Koinonia Partners near Americus, Georgia. Koinonia was the Greek word used by early Christians to describe their communion with one another. They formed a fellowship of sharing.

Koinonia Partners in Sumter County, Georgia went back to the 1940’s when Clarence Jordan took his PhD in New Testament and his University of Georgia degree in Agriculture and moved to south Georgia in order to create a community that would be a “demonstration plot for the kingdom of God”.

It all began by providing resources and education for impoverished sharecroppers in the area. Hired workers were paid equally, eating and worshipping together, regardless of race. For such activities the community endured persecution, including boycotts, death threats, KKK rallies, property damage, firebombs, and bullets. These forms of terror were used by those who would not cultivate their souls for the nourishment of grace. In the face of these acts of violence, Koinonia remained a witness to nonviolence and racial equality.

The good soil of Koinonia Partners enabled grace to grow in that area a hundredfold. And the fruit that was borne included hope for some of the poorest people in Sumter County, the founding of Habitat for Humanity, Jubilee Partners near Athens, and New Hope House with its ministry to prisoners and their families.

Clarence Jordan had a vision of turning rocky soil into a garden where grace could flourish. And in his commitment to develop spiritual farming methods, the seeds of God’s grace fell on cultivated souls and brought forth a rich harvest.

The year I spent at Koinonia Partners enabled me to have time for self-examination and to step back and look at life afresh. I left south Georgia clearer about my ministry and the love of God for all people. I left with my hope renewed.

Yes, there are rocky places in the human family. There are thorns in life. Clearly, there were rocky places in the lives of Abraham, Isaac, Rebekah, Essau and Jacob. Weeds sometimes flourished in their family as they do in ours.

But that is only part of the story. Seeds of grace also fall on good soil. And therein lie our hope and our call: our hope for bountiful grace and our call to cultivate, nurture and share the hope God provides.

That’s what I thought of when my wife and I took Ella and Courtland to an animated movie over the Fourth of July weekend. About half way through the film, I looked over and saw Courtland slumped in his seat, fast asleep. Beside him sat Ella with one hand in a bag of popcorn and the other gently placed around her brother.

Photon Magazine article on solar energy

2011-06-30T16:47:00.002-04:00

www.gipl.org/News/Customer-files/Photon_2011-06.pdf

Sermon for Sunday, June 26, on Mattthew 10:40-42

2011-06-25T14:18:00.007-04:00

Given the readings we have heard this morning, we might add a second prayer to the Collect of the Day, the one used to celebrate the life of John Dunne, priest, poet and preacher in 17^th Century England. It goes like this: Almighty God, the root and fountain of all being: Open our eyes to see, with your servant John Donne, that whatever has any being is a mirror in which we may behold you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever.

Open our eyes. That theme runs throughout the gospels. Jesus is forever opening blind eyes to see. Opening eyes to truth and light and compassion and hope.

In the ancient Middle East, individualism, as we know it, did not exist. People had what is called a “ dyadic” view of personality. Every person is embedded in other persons, especially the family. People derived their sense of identity from the group to which they belonged. When an individual welcomed another individual, this symbolized one group welcoming another group. When Jesus says, Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me, he is speaking from a dyadic point of view.

The early church sought to embrace this understanding of personality even though to do so was difficult at times. Welcoming the messenger as one would welcome the message-sender led the first Christians to adopt guidelines for following this practice. Traveling evangelists were to be welcomed and provided with food and lodging in exchange for their ministries of healing and teaching. The expectations around this kind of hospitality came to be carefully defined.

Today we are challenged in our heavily individualistic culture to maintain a strong sense of the group, and sometimes even the family. We don’t always like to have our options determined by our family or group. Yet, as the church we are called to discern how the Spirit is speaking among us and to honor that sacred presence.

Let me share with you an example of how we can be challenged to listen to the Spirit in our community. In Saturday’s Atlanta Journal-Constitution there was an article on the opinion page about the Lawrenceville City Council giving thought to evicting people who stayed in resident hotels for more than 45 days. There was a city law to this effect that had not been enforced. One of the Council members had seen a school bus pick up 15 children at the Villa Lodge and Suites and believed it was time to enforce the law. The writer of the column thought this was callous. He wrote, If it were me, I’d want to hear their stories, learn how that came to be. {The Council member} prefers to send them on down the road.

How do we apply today’s gospel reading to this kind of situation? We all have our prejudices, our favored ways of seeing. But if we want Jesus to open our eyes to his way, what helps us to discern this and what gets in the way? How can we prepare ourselves, in the words of the gospel reading, to give a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple?

I have really had to struggle with the approach to illegal immigration taken by the government of Georgia. There is a problem that needs to be solved, but the problem is not just the presence of illegal immigrants. There are families desperate for enough money to support themselves. As Christians how much do we want the Spirit to open our eyes to ways that we can make a positive difference in the lives of those families? It is a difficult question. Sometimes we do not want our eyes to be opened.

That is why it is so important for us to seek to live into today’s gospel. To grow in our understanding of how we see God at work in our church, communities, and families. Together as the church, we especially need to devote ourselves to discernment.

When I was rector of Holy Trinity Parish in Decatur, I saw this happen around the issue of discerning how we could respond to the need for clean water that a small village had in central Honduras. For the parish even to entertain such a question suggests that the Spirit had been at work. The need had been made known to the parish by those who had traveled to the village on a mission trip. Eyes had been opened. And the parish was called on to respond. And the parish did. A water system was provided with the village doing most of the labor. People no longer had to drink water fouled by cattle and available only from a creek that dried up occasionally in the summer.

For the Spirit to open our eyes we have to do more than focus on ourselves as individuals. We are called to see what is possible in our church, our community and our family. We are called to listen to what the Spirit is saying and to make ourselves available to have our eyes opened. This is community work. This is the labor of a parish, the ministry of the church. This is discipleship that provides us with new vision.

Almighty God, the root and fountain of all being: Open our eyes to see that whatever has any being is a mirror in which we may behold you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

And it was good

2011-06-21T23:08:00.000-04:00

The tree of life

2011-06-21T12:38:00.003-04:00

God told Adam and Eve not to eat of the sacred tree. Various religions have recognized particular trees as sacred. For example, the ancient Celts believed that the tops of trees reached to the heavens and the roots to the underworld of spirits. When a tribe cleared the land for a settlement, they left a great tree in the middle, known in Ireland as the "crann bethadh," or tree of life.

In Egypt, the evergreen date palm was a sacred tree, and a palm branch was the symbol of the god Heh, the personification of eternity. In India the Bo-Tree or Sacred Fig has been recognized for centuries. This plant is considered sacred by the followers of Hinduism, Jainism and Buddhism. Siddhartha Gautama is said to have been sitting underneath a Bo-Tree when he was enlightened or "awakened".

Even in our secular culture, the Christmas tree is given special honor as it is placed in homes and decorated.

The sacred tree is an apt symbol for our call to be stewards of the earth. An ecological rendering of the tree in Genesis suggests it represents a sacredness to be honored and not devoured. Adam and Eve were told they could eat freely of every other tree of the garden but not of the sacred tree.

It is always a temptation to disregard what is sacred. But as Genesis warns, we do so at our own risk. That is evident in regard to the sacredness of the earth today.

In today's Atlanta Journal-Constitution there is a report by a top panel of scientists that says the health of the world's oceans is declining much faster than was thought. A combination of factors is behind this situation. Most of the factors are products of our failing to respect the sacred nature of the earth.

I believe it is time to discover a new vision in Genesis, to embrace the sacredness of the tree of life so that the ground may be blessed rather than cursed. The tree of life calls us to respect creation rather than subdue the earth.

June days in our garden

2011-06-03T14:59:00.002-04:00

Easter in June

2011-06-01T19:40:00.001-04:00

Our island home

2011-06-01T16:46:00.004-04:00

He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead...

I continue to be impressed with the connections between theology and ecology. Stewardship of the earth is a foundational block in any responsible understanding of ultimate things.

When I hear talk of God's judgment being proclaimed with fire and destruction, I wonder why anyone would want to portray the One who brings all into creation as wanting to destroy the world. If the earth is destroyed it will likely be because of some incident in the solar system or because of human madness.

Those who glory in predicting that God will destroy the world may have a sort of hate relationship with the earth. This leads to what I call subdue theology. According to this viewpoint the earth represents human limitations; it is a reminder of our creatureliness. Were it not for earth, we would be as free as angels rather than constrained to a creature status. Images of the so-called rapture portray people "saved" from the earth and free to roam the heavens. The earth is then ultimately subdued by fire. Those who do not buy into subdue theology are also destroyed.

This world in not my home, I’m just a passing through; My treasures are laid up Somewhere beyond the blue. The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door, And I can’t feel at home in this world any more.

(First stanza of a gospel hymn.)

Subdue theology is not only future oriented. It figures into everyday living. Seeing the earth as a limitation upon one's destiny leads to disrespect of this island home. The earth is here only to be used; it is not where we belong.

Of course, this redefines who we are as human beings. No longer are we a part of creation. Somehow we are above it all as exemplified in the rapture.

Recently, I was passing through Oxford, Alabama on Interstate 20. Near a busy intersection were the remains of a tall hill that had been bulldozed into unsightliness. Where once trees and other vegetation had covered the hill, only two sad looking trees stood on the top. This was an apt logo for subdue theology.

I am not suggesting that all human engineering is bad. The problem is an attitude that disrespects the planet and maintains that human beings do not belong to the earth. Theologians once talked about the fall of creation. It is not creation that has fallen but humanity's distortion of its place in creation. That is what brings sorrow to the world.

The earth is our home. We belong to this small planet.

What's up?

2011-06-01T12:52:00.000-04:00

With all the recent talk about rapture, it is worth mentioning that the term was first coined by a British evangelist named John Nelson Darby in the 1800’s. While there have been times in history when some thought the end of the world was at hand, the notion of a rapture of the faithful before such an event is a relatively modern proposition.

Those who believe they are among the select are the primary champions of the rapture. The concern is less for blessing the world than for judging it. God is portrayed as anything but compassionate.

If the rapture proposition seems self-serving for its adherents, that is because it is. It is less reflective of Jesus as portrayed in the gospels than of the attitudes he questioned.

A gentle breeze

2011-05-19T12:57:00.004-04:00

I sat on the porch swing enjoying the coolness of the morning. Sounds of birds filled the air. Beside me were my flower snips. A humming bird flew by. A chipmunk scurried beneath the hedge. I thought of the lazy days of my childhood when I sat on porches or in trees and was a part of the outdoors.

Yesterday I said good-bye to Alexi, the little dog that had lived with us for 16 years. Things are different here without him. A little dog can become a big companion.

From the porch swing I watched the trees move in the breeze. Few cars went by. The world around me moved in gentle rhythms. Birds flew by. The swing swayed.

In the distance was a tree that had died. Its bare branches revealed that it had once been as tall as any in the neighborhood. In the midst of life we are in death.

Yesterday I saw a car with a big American flag attached and a USA sign in the window. I was mourning a death and the driver was celebrating a death.

In the world beheld from my porch, the wonder of life amazes me.

The Road

2011-05-07T18:25:00.002-04:00

Quite the opposite from Cormac McCarthy's book entitled The Road, the metaphorical story of the Biblical road to Emmaus leads us into a realm of hope. This is my favorite resurrection story. There are no empty tombs or messengers from God hanging around. Just the road, two walkers, a stranger, and a meal. These ordinary things weave a portrait of resurrection.

Marcus Borg, in his latest book, Speaking Christian, contrasts what he calls "heaven-and-hell" Christianity with faith in God as "sacred presence." The literalism of the "heaven and hell" Jesus tends to turn the Emmaus story into a tale of magic. Something like pixie dust opens the eyes of the two walkers, and then poof, Jesus disappears. That's pretty much the meaning of the story.

For me the story speaks to the sacred presence all around us. In their despair over the death of Jesus, the two disciples discover hope. Not even the murder of their rabbi could take away sacred presence. They find this presence (or are found by it) through remembering as Jesus tells the story of God's presence and through communion as they break bread with the risen Christ. Word and sacrament provide a form for an encounter with sacred presence.

The mystery in the story is not magic but the presence we sometimes call the living Christ. It is the same as sacred presence. And it is always present. We believe it was even present at the crucifixion of Jesus. This is the mystery beneath all being. And because of that, it will not go away.

The two disciples discover this in their sorrow. In the death of their hopes for Jesus, a new faith is born. A faith built on sacred presence. The story is about resurrection because we all experience death, all kinds of deaths, and the gift of new life revealed in sacred presence is resurrection.

In the story Jesus doesn't hang around after the disciples discover resurrection. He doesn't need to be embodied in human form any longer. His presence is every where. The two walkers have discovered that God's universal grace (the living Christ) will always be with them. And they can't wait to share the good news.

Dancing on graves

2011-05-02T19:03:00.003-04:00

Today the news has been about the death of Osama bin Laden, and rightfully so. It is an event to which people around the world can connect.

There are figures in history that come to be identified with evil. In the last century Adolf Hitler in Europe and Idi Amin in Africa became faces of evil. Now in the 21st Century, Osama bin Laden will be remembered for that distinction.

We people are amazing. We have the capacity for both good and evil. Capable of embracing both the saints and history's violent dregs, our complexity is greater than we want to imagine. In Jesus Christ we see humanity at its most compassionate, something perhaps beyond our reach, but nevertheless, something to which we may aspire. In someone like bin Laden, we see a hideous side of humanity that propels us to disassociate from it as much as possible.

These are normal responses. However, they can become unhealthy if we allow ourselves to believe that either the face of goodness or the face of evil can control human complexity. For example, if I believe that I am all good, I may fail to see the less compassionate dimensions of myself, and I run the risk of giving too much free reign to my demons within.

I suspect this is at least partially what happened to Osama bin Laden. He came to confuse evil with goodness. His zealous cause was, in his eyes, righteous.

We will do well not to dance too long on bin Laden's grave. Not only does goodness have a way of rising from the grave but so does evil. The complexity of life does not keep things down for long.

For now we are relieved. We can sing, the wicked witch is dead. But God help us not to deny our complexity but to be transformed by the grace at the heart of our being.

Busy panda

2011-04-19T18:07:00.000-04:00

Retirement

2011-04-19T17:16:00.003-04:00

These days of Holy Week are very full for parish clergy. Included among the activities in the Diocese of Atlanta is the annual reaffirmation of ordination vows at the cathedral. I attended this event today and enjoyed being among my brother and sister clergy. I was asked by a number of people if I'm enjoying retirement and if I'm staying busy.

I hear these questions a lot, and I have asked them of other retired clergy. But it always feels awkward to respond to these queries. First, I sometimes enjoy being retired and sometimes I don't. I think I felt the same way before I retired. Some days I loved my work and some days I did not. Also, these responses are not clear-cut. For example, I am glad I don't have to deal with all the responsibilities of Holy Week but I also miss the liturgical drama of the parish during these days.

The other question, Are you staying busy, is even harder for me to answer. In retirement days continue to have 24 hours. While I may not do the same things I did before I retired, I am still occupied with living every day. However, if I respond to the question by saying, "I'm just hanging out," I feel that I'm disappointing myself and others.

Staying busy is an American obsession. Maybe this need, which I take to mean more than living through the day, is encouraged by the Protestant work ethic. This is pretty deeply engrained in some of us. Somehow our worth is enhanced by being busy. It is probably wise not to be overly driven by this ethic in retirement, especially if your previous work kept you with a full calendar.

Too much attention to busyness keeps me from reading and writing and even working in my garden. Of course, one can stay busy with these activities. So maybe busyness is a state of mind as much as a full calendar. If you enjoy what you do, then it probably doesn't matter whether you see it as keeping busy or not.

This brings us back to the question, Are you enjoying retirement? Yes...sometimes...most of the time...not all the time.

Palm Sunday

2011-04-17T19:30:00.004-04:00

It is 7:30 pm and the sun is waning. This opening day of Holy Week is almost gone. Palm Sunday is not one of my favorite liturgical days. Maybe I have known too many years of trying to tie together the festivity of a palm procession with a long and sometimes tediously read passion gospel. Palm processions always promise more than they deliver. Typically, ushers run out of palms or they forget to hand out bulletins. There is usually some confusion around the liturgy of the palms, such as should palms be handed out before or after they are blessed. Singing in a procession outside the church especially can be disastrous as the front of the line ends up a verse or two ahead of those trailing behind.

While I am not overly fond of this day's liturgy, I do think it is important in the life of a congregation. People are usually quite understanding about mistakes and readily participate in the day's liturgy. One of the values of Palm Sunday is that it teaches patience and endurance. On the other hand, it somewhat steals the thunder of Good Friday. In the balance, it makes for a colorful, rather emotional and reflective church morning and allows plenty of time for it.

Our island home

2011-04-11T20:30:00.001-04:00

Earth to earth

2011-04-11T20:28:00.001-04:00

Let's return to the subject of sky gods. Too much attention to the sky has gotten us in trouble with the earth. This world is not my home; I'm just passing through theology has robbed the earth of the care it needs and has robbed us of what Paul Tilllich called the Ground of our being. We have pretended to be grounded in the sky but the earth is really our home.

Jack Spong, in his book, Eternal Life: A New Vision, writes, While I am alive I will plumb life's depths, scale life's heights, and share my life and my love with those who are fellow pilgrims with me in my time and space. When I die, I will rest my case in the "being" of which I am a part.

For Spong that "being" is our connection to what we call God. Eternity is within us. Rather than reach into the heavens for a transcendent God, Spong reaches inward and finds cosmic meaning. He writes, I enter the realm of eternity only by embracing the finite.

This has major implications for earth stewardship. A pathway to the heavens is found in the smallest leaf. The ordinary relationships we share with one another are windows into eternal life. We are not just passing through this world; we have entered the threshold of eternity. The holiness with which the earth and all being are gifted beckons us to partake of wonder with thanksgiving and care.

2011-04-11T20:25:00.000-04:00

Sermon

April 3, 2011

FourthSunday of Lent

It’s good to be with you in Madison this Sunday. Years ago I attended a conference with a priest from the Church of the Advent. He was quite an interesting person and I enjoyed getting to know him. I don’t remember his name but he wore cowboy boots and drove a convertible sports car. That’s what always came to mind when I heard Madison mentioned.Cowboy boots and a red convertible.

The Fourth Sunday of Lent has historically offered a break from the penitential nature of this liturgical season. The gospel reading traditionally took another course.

In England this Sunday was called Mothering Sunday. It was the Sunday when people returned to the main or mother church in their area. It came to be a holiday for some as people were sometimes given a day off because they had to travel some distance to visit their mother church.The origins of Mothering Sunday are quite different from that of the American Mothers’ Day.

Over the years the lectionary readings have changed and today we hear the gospel story of the young man whose eyes were opened. A theme for this the reading might beopening blind eyes.

In the account there is not much of a community celebration around the opening of the young man’s eyes. In fact the occasion turns out to be rather disturbing. What would seem a cause for joy instead brings into play anger, fear and judgment.

We have probably all been a part of something that started out with great promise but soon headed in a different direction. That is a very human experience. It is one that can easily play out around events as diverse as a family vacation or a wedding. Tensions can run high and before long frustration has replaced joy.

In the gospel story the stage was set for intense reactions. There was the view that blindness was caused by someone’s doing something to displease God. This was a way of giving meaning to suffering, and though it may sound superstitious, it offered a way to believe there was some control over falling prey to illness and tragedy. So, if someone who was said to represent God, namely Jesus, caused the blindness to go away, that could stir up some confusion. Wasn’t God supposed to be punishing the blind man? Why would God give him sight?

There are some interesting developments in the story. The young man grows in boldness each time the authorities question him. First, he simply tells them what happened.When questioned further, he says of Jesus, ”He is a prophet.” Finally, he proclaims that Jesus is from God. The man’s testimony becomes more and more forceful and the authorities respond by becoming more and more resistant. No one is convinced by what the young man says. Instead, the authorities finally drive him out.

No doubt, the man felt very much alone. On the day his eyes were opened, not only did people not celebrate with him, but he was driven out. There was no one to congratulate him. No one to give thanks with him.In a sense he was as alone as he had been all those years he was blind and people believed God was punishing him.

There are some very important things going on in the story. For one thing, the people just didn’t get it.There was no room in their imaginations for what they had seen.Their own eyes could have been opened along with the blind man’s, but they chose to deny what they had seen. Maybe it required too much of them. After all, it is easier to close our eyes to what we do not want to see even if doing so diminishes our sight.

There are millions of examples of this. One is being played out now in the Middle East where autocratic rulers refuse to see the needs of their people and refuse to see how they can use their power to address those needs compassionately. Another example was our past blindness as Southerners to the evils of slavery in our own land. It took a long time for us to open our eyes.

Sometimes we fail to see the blessings God has bestowed upon us because we lack the imagination and the willingness to see things differently. We settle for tunnel vision in our families, at work, at school, among our friends, and even in our view of ourselves. For whatever reason we fail to open our eyes to new possibilities all around us.

None of us is immune from some sort of blindness, some sort of blindness we choose. It is most tragic, however, when we choose not to see God’s presence. When we lack the imagination to discover holiness before our eyes. When we cannot see Christ in those who are not the way we want them to be, whether that is others or ourselves.

In the gospel story, the young man’s parents were afraid, so afraid they did not even support their own child. Their fear robbed them of seeing God’s wonder. And the religious authorities, those called to seek the truth, were blinded by what they perceived as a threat to their status. They were not seeking truth; they were protecting their turf. They believed they were the experts, and if God spoke, it would be through them and not through some sinner born blind. Moreover, this opening of eyes had taken place on the Sabbath, a sure sign that it could not be from God.

So, a lack of imagination plus fear plus the self- interest of those in authority made any kind of community celebration impossible. There was an abundance of blindness by the pool of Siloam that day.

The gospel writer makes another point toward the end of the story. The young man has not only had his eyes opened but his mind has been opened to a far greater reality than that cherished by the religious authorities. When Jesus invites him to be a disciple of opening blind eyes, we can sense his gratitude and amazement. This man, born blind and dismissed as a sinner, is called into a ministry of helping others to see, and not only with their eyes but also with their hearts and minds. He is not afraid; his eyes have been opened. What would never have been thought possible became reality.

John ends the story with his appreciation of paradox. Jesus says, I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.

Sight and blindness play off one another. For John it is in our blindness that we are given sight. In our willingness to have our eyes opened by grace, we gain our true sight. In our refusal to embrace our blindness we are denied true sight.

Let us pray.

O God, we train our eyes on those things we want to see and so fail to take note of your presence. In our blindness open our eyes to see you in those we don’t want to see, in those we want to go away and in those we can’t imagine that you love. Spirit of life, we thank you for having the imagination and the compassion to open blind eyes. Amen.

Zipping along

2011-04-07T12:45:00.002-04:00

They'll be some changes made

2011-04-05T22:01:00.002-04:00

I've added some features to the Flowing Wells blog. You can automatically receive new postings by adding your email address to the home page. Easy to do. Also, I am now able to post your comments.

Thanks for following the blog. Let me know your comments.

Bill

Lent

2011-03-16T18:28:00.003-04:00

Sounds of Wonder

2011-03-10T06:49:00.002-05:00

I awoke in the dark just before sunrise. With the first light came the sounds of birds awakening and claiming the new day. I listened. Whether music or territorial claims, the chirps were reassuring that wonder had not become lost in the darkness.

Story images

2011-03-06T11:46:00.003-05:00

Myths to live by

2011-03-06T11:28:00.001-05:00

I am fascinated by the myths and stories we live by. Religions consist of stories that communicate an earthly and even cosmic view of reality.The stories are shaped by the experiences of their adherents but also transcend ordinary experience. Jealously guarded by myth believers, the stories of each religion are normally seen as absolute, maintaining exclusive rights to ultimate truth.

We need myths to interpret life and to find meaning. We are born into life with no control over the process, and we ultimately die with no choice over death. It is extremely anxiety provoking. Our religions give us some control, or the illusion of control, over our fate.

We should choose our myths wisely, avoiding the temptation of possessing exclusive truth and righteousness. A good story is always open to new revelation. Stories that deny reality in favor of preferred doctrine do not serve humanity well in the long run. Neither do myths that encourage disregard for those who do not adhere to particular cherished views.

I favor myths that encourage us to love our neighbor and to live thankfully. We are on earth for only a short time. Embracing the wonder of this planet with all its fascinating life is a spiritual discipline that serves us well and respects those to come. In this way we create stories of joy and hope for new generations.

Maximon

2011-02-13T14:12:00.007-05:00

While in Guatemala, I learned that approximately 60% of the country is Mayan. Although in the majority, Mayans have been repressed through the years. Still, they have tenaciously held to their culture. We encountered this in Chichicastenango, a market town in the highlands. Here a Roman Catholic church was built on the site of a Mayan temple. The front steps of the church were those of the temple. Mayan prayers are said from the steps amid much incense. Inside, the Roman authorities have acquiesced and allow Mayan liturgical rites to take place in the center aisle.

We also discovered an interesting Mayan holy entity named Maximon. Something of a rogue, Maximon is prayed to for all sorts of things including healing, money, and revenge. One place his effigy is housed is in a home in the village of Santiago Atitlan. We visited this site to see what the whiskey drinking, cigarette smoking deity was up to. There we found a group who were offering prayers. Watch the video by clicking on the link below.

Color and Guatemala

2011-02-13T14:09:00.000-05:00

Color provides perspective. While in Guatemala a couple of weeks ago, I was struck by the colorful textiles and architecture. They matched the flowers that took my breath away. It is amazing what can be done with colors. From clothing to table runners to pastel colonial buildings, the area we visited was awash in colorful details. However hard life may be for some in Guatemala, the beauty of color is a gift. It is a feast for the eyes.

The Art of Being

2011-01-15T13:50:00.000-05:00

There is a lot to learn from my dog, Alexi. He is an old poodle, completely deaf, almost blind, and suffers from arthritis. Yet he never complains and retains curiosity while he goes about his daily routine. From one point of view, you could say Alexi is pretty worthless, but he reminds me every day of the importance of being.

In a culture that values productivity to the neglect of simply being, Alexi has been a good corrective for me. Since my retirement, I have had to come to terms with my tendency to seek affirmation through what I do. The loss of my vocational position has threatened my well-being. My challenge has been to rely less on accomplishment and enjoy more the gift of being alive, to savor each day and seek in all things the wonder of God.

I'm not always so generous in my opinion of Alexi. He barks too much and can be a nuisance when he stays underfoot. Still, he is a living icon of the gift of life, a master at the art of being.

So long 2010

2010-12-31T19:24:00.001-05:00

Well, the last day of the year is here. In fact,the day is drawing to a close. Street lights have come on and the trees beside our house are like long shadows barely letting through the darkening blue sky. 2010 is nearly spent.

For me it has been an unusual year. Six months ago I entered into a new adventure. It has not been altogether what I expected. I knew retirement would be an adjustment but I did not expect that these months would be so much about recovering from surgery and accidents. Enough! As I type this post with one hand (the other is in a sling) I am ready for knee scooters and hand braces and arm slings to go away. And I trust they will.

Now the long shadows have crowded out the sky and night has fallen. I see occasional car lights making their way in the darkness. The new year will soon arrive amid the shadows. And with it, the promise of a new day. With it, the promise of morning light.

The Future

2010-12-15T22:02:00.001-05:00

I've seen the future, brother, and it is murder. When they said repent, I wonder what they meant. Leonard Cohen

Cormac McCarthy's The Road presents a hopeless journey into the future. The dire view of the author sounds a little like that of John the baptizer, warning those brave or foolish enough to listen to him of horrid things to come.

The blizzard of the world has crossed the threshold and it has overturned the order of the soul. Leonard Cohen

John places hope in repentance although one wonders who wants to be around when the one mightier than John comes. Too much fire.

They'll be phantoms: they'll be fires on the road. Leonard Cohen

My job is to take care of you. I was appointed to do that by God. I will kill anyone who touches you. Do you understand?

Yes.

He sat there cowled in the blanket. After a while he looked up. Are we still the good guys? he said.

Yes. We're still the good guys.

And we always will be.

Yes. We always will be.

Okay.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

2010-12-14T20:00:00.000-05:00

O Darkened Days

2010-12-14T19:28:00.004-05:00

The winter solstice is around the corner. This is the season of long nights.

Of course, darkness for us is only partial. There are street lamps and lights throughout our homes. Our cars have lights as do our appliances. Even some shoes have lights. I bought my grandson a large toy airplane for Christmas. The propeller has an array of lights, flashing and changing colors.

Still, this is the time of year when I like to enter a largely darkened church with flickering candle lights. It is refreshing to the soul to see the shadows. It is refreshing to hear hear the sounds of the solstice, ancient sounds that speak of mystery and wonder. All this prepares our hearts for Christmas, a largely nocturnal celebration of awe and heart-warming amazement.

The holy nights have come. The shadows beckon.

Preparing to Celebrate Christmas

2010-12-09T19:58:00.004-05:00

In her book, An Altar in the World, Barbara Brown Taylor writes, Why did Jesus spend his last night on earth teaching his disciples to wash feet and share supper? These acts, she says, gave his followers specific ways of being together in their bodies,... something so real that they would not be able to intellectualize it.

Advent invites us to remember/discover how God is among us in the earthly/earthy encounters we have every day. I think that must be a reason why gritty John the baptizer is associated with the season. He represents something down to earth. His river baptisms were not out of body experiences but acts of repentance that involved the whole person. John was critical of those who wanted to spiritualize their faith. Do works worthy of repentance, he said.

There is always the temptation to make Christmas stay in the ancient world of Bethlehem. We may believe it gives us more control. However, deep down what we really love about Christmas is how it connects God to earth and earthly/bodily experiences, how it brings the wonder of the sacred into the grittiness of being human. It affirms all that we are from our toenails to our cowlicks.

An altar of color

2010-12-07T19:49:00.000-05:00

The Second Sunday of Advent

2010-12-05T17:39:00.000-05:00

Odo Casel, a Benedictine theologian and liturgist of the last century, wrote, “The Spirit of God is something disturbing, driving . . . for {God} desires to turf us out of our everydayness. Do we have the commitment to stay in the place of disturbance; the uncomfortable place where the Advent God is? It is rarely safe to long for God, and impossible if we are unwilling to be changed.”

We have just about succeeded in taking the sting out of Christmas. There’s not much about the season left to disturb us. But the Incarnation, the birth of baby Jesus, is a birth into a world often indifferent to suffering, a world sometimes given to ambivalence when confronted with human need. And that is exactly what Matthew and John call into question in today's gospel reading (Matthew 3:1-12).

Do we expect the baby Jesus to change the world or just to look sweet? Whatever difference the Incarnation makes, as people baptized into Christ we have a part to play. So an Advent question for us to ask is how do we reorder our lives in order to welcome the One who asks, “What have you done for the least of mine?”

Cast away the works of darkness

2010-11-28T22:21:00.002-05:00

Advent draws its meaning from the future. It calls us to let the future empower us.

Thomas Friedman, in his column this week, cites a poll showing 47% of America's likely voters believe the "best days are in the past." Thirty-seven percent believe they are in the future. We are a fickled people. Less than two years ago 48% believed our best days were still ahead.

Advent sees the future more in terms of what God is up to than in terms of current events. The future is not so much determined by the present as the present is by the future. For Advent the future holds the promise of God's wonder.

In this season of Advent we are reminded to draw hope from the future and to prepare not only for the Christmas holidays but also for God's wonders that are still to come and are breaking into the present even now. This sort of preparation usually requires a change of heart, what the prayer for the first Sunday in Advent calls grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. It is difficult to let go of the works of darkness; they make the past seem safe and morally superior. But the future calls, and with it comes the promise of Advent. Go ahead, says this season, put on the armor of light and be shaped by that which is to come.

The season of hope is near

2010-11-27T16:20:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving ushers in a fanciful time of year. Never mind that Advent has its own wonderful tone; for many the holidays have begun and will continue into the new year.

Of course, it all began with a story. Exactly what the story is about is not always clear. Sometimes Santa and reindeer and mistletoe work their way into the script, but basically the story is about a birth which is about God and how much God loves the world.

The story is mostly about celebrating life. And that is a good thing. In a world where many of its people are hungry or sick or living in fear, celebration is a way that joy can be expressed. What is there to celebrate? The story says that God loves the world.

For some that may seem a silly reason to rejoice. What difference does God's love make if there is so much hunger, fear and suffering? I believe the story is meaningful because it offers hope and does so not because things are dandy but because love keeps breaking through.

We don't really know how to handle that very well. We're not sure we can trust the story, but around this time of year we become at least a little more open to the story's possibilities. We may be willing to enter into hope at least enough to send a card or put some lights around the front door or on a tree. Maybe it is just a season of unreality when many cannot hold their consumerism in check. No doubt that is a part of what the story has become for some. Still, there is a promise in the air, and in a world heavy with doubt, a whisper of hope that has come down through the ages is something to celebrate.

So let the season of hope begin. And for those brave enough to enter more fully into the story, let it begin with Advent. A real celebration takes preparation, and that is what Advent provides.

Come all that is holy. Come to us with our fear, hunger, greed and longing. Break into our lives with love that we may embrace your joy.

An ever rolling stream

2010-10-29T00:40:00.002-04:00

I couldn't keep from smiling when I thought of an incident from my teen years. Some times I would like to recapture the wonder and energy of that period of my life, but there is a big barrier called time that separates then from now. Yes, there are occasions when time seems to be transcended, moments when we experience what Paul Tillich called the eternal now. Mostly, though, the call of life is in the present. Doubtless the past holds treasures but heartaches dwell there as well. It might be interesting to have another go at some of the best times but it is probably wiser to remember fondly, give thanks graciously and live fully now.

Time, like an ever rolling stream, bears all our years away:

they fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come,

be thou our guide while life shall last, and our eternal home.

from hymn 680 of The Hymnal 1982

Walk and not faint

2010-09-20T23:51:00.001-04:00

Here is a question and answer that may seem familiar. Someone asks, "How are you?", and the response is, "I'm hanging in there."

"Hanging in there" usually refers to our stress level. Maybe something like, "I don't know how I'm going to get through the week but I'm taking it day by day." We all have times like that. Times when we feel overly burdened and unsure of what lies ahead.

There is no doubt that life can be stressful. And we may or may not be the cultivators of whatever stress we experience. In very poor communities where obtaining food and water can be a daily challenge, stress is just a part of being alive. But it also can also be experienced in situations where there is abundance.

When someone says, "I'm hanging in there", I'm reminded of the passage from the prophet Isaiah that describes the kind of power God gives to those who wait in hope. He says, "They shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint". Sometimes just to walk and not faint is a gift. Perhaps that is what we mean when we say, "I'm hanging in there". Maybe we're grateful to be able to walk and not faint.

Road signs

2010-09-19T13:02:00.002-04:00

Traveling along Interstate 75 south of Macon, huge billboards invite drivers to indulge in all sorts of experiences. They promise a good time. Every once and a while there is even a religious encouragement offered, such as one sign that promises opportunities for Christian acting, modeling and other talent. It is next to a billboard that promotes a strip joint at the next exit.

Once off the interstate, old fashioned and much smaller signs begin to appear, warning motorists of God's wrath. Most of these have been around for years. A frequently seen one simply states, "Christ is coming". I like this one because while the author/sign painter may have intended it as a warning, this is not readily apparent. In fact, we regularly say in the Eucharist, "Christ will come again."

This is good news, not a threat of damnation. Christ does come among us, and we are blessed whenever we welcome Christ. When we fail to do so, well, there is the good news that Christ will come again.

One of the worst theological distortions that I've seen was on a huge billboard between Athens and Atlanta. There was pictured a menacing cloud over the earth with the words, "Don't make me come down there." Of course, God has already come to earth, as we celebrate in the Incarnation, and it was a blessing, not a curse. And Christ continues to come down here as we discover through eyes of faith. When the fading sign nailed to a barn or fence post proclaims, "Christ is coming", we can smile and say, "Ain't it the truth".

Scooter talk

2010-08-27T13:32:00.005-04:00

A year later and I'm back on the scooter again. Actually, it's not really called a scooter but a roll-about or a knee walker. I call it a scooter because it is closer to a real scooter than the motorized chairs that go by the same name.

I'm off my foot for a month because of surgery to my left foot that matches the surgery to my right foot last year. There is nothing like foot surgery to slow me down so I can give some attention to this blog.

These last days have seen many changes in my life. The six weeks I spent in England were wonderful. One of the highlights was staying in western Cornwall. From the old stone cottage high upon a hill, I could see the sea below on one side and the desolate moor on the other. Cornwall is full of cliffs and crannies that lead to the sea. Celtic and prehistoric runs abound.

Since returning home, I have moved books and art and papers from my parish office to my house. That turned out to be as unpleasant as I thought it would be. However, I did enjoy throwing away several containers of papers. My contribution to recycling was considerable.

One other ecology note: the Cornwall cottage had no utility connection. The lights were powered by a solar array. Water from the well, also pumped by solar energy was heated by a Rayburn, fueled by propane. What a mixture of ancient and modern.

Body language

2010-06-29T13:08:00.003-04:00

There I was, kneeling in church. My mind may have been wondering but the rest of me was paying attention. Being present, physically present, sometimes counts as much as being consciously present. We relegate so much attention to what we think, but non-thinking acts such as kneeling or making the sign of the cross or holding out our hands for communion also shape us. That is one of the things I love about Anglican liturgy: I don't have to depend totally upon my state of mind in order to pray. Sometimes my hands and legs can lead me in prayer. Sometimes my presence is as important as what I think.

Sweet, sweet smell

2010-06-04T21:11:00.002-04:00

Walking home from the square, I noticed a delightful fragrance as I passed the Agnes Scott campus. Beside me were several giant magnolia trees, full of big blooms, sending forth all their fragrant charms. It was a humid day with a slight breeze, just enough to carry the sweet scent passed the trees and onto the sidewalk where I chanced to be. The cars whizzed by, but I lingered long enough to take note of something readily present for all who walked by. I remembered that fragrance from earlier years. It was satisfying to be encountered again by the scent of those big creamy white blossoms.

Show your colors

2010-04-24T21:08:00.000-04:00

change, change change, change

2010-04-24T20:34:00.003-04:00

As I approach retirement, I feel caught up in change. But in reality I have been embraced by it all my life. Change is a constant in life. We are always called to let go of something that has been and to be open to that which is not yet. We live on the meeting place of these two.

Now my sense of belonging is with what I have known. The people I love and the place where I have ministered and the visions I have shared continue to pull on my heart. Yet, there is the call to be open to that which is not yet, that which will emerge with new meaning and new dreams.

I am blessed beyond measure. I walk on clouds of grace, supported by wonder and gratitude. It is in thanksgiving for what has been and for what is to come that I face the transition.

The Great Fifty Days

2010-04-14T10:28:00.002-04:00

The Easter stories in the Gospels are strange and fantastic. They don't make a lot of sense in terms of normal reality. There are various ways to look at them. One is to see them as symbolic accounts of new life in the early church. The resurrection was the raising of the Body of Christ. A good example of this is revealed in Peter, who was transformed from denying Jesus to giving his life in witness to Jesus.

Another possibility for the Easter accounts is to see them as attempts to communicate a new reality. The Easter experience introduced the disciples to something beyond anything they knew. They were amazed and hardly had words to describe what they had experienced. The stories they told partook of the extraordinary reality that had encountered them. Although ordinary words were insufficient, they were necessary for communication. What we are left with are strange accounts of events and a new and confident faith embraced by the Easter community.

During these fifty days of Easter, we have a lot to consider. Alleluia.

Solar power

2010-03-24T21:13:00.002-04:00

On the day after tomorrow around noon, the activity of the solar array at Holy Trinity goes on line. By going to the parish web site, www.htparish.com, and clicking on a link, everyone can see how much power is being generated at any particular time. Holy Trinity has invested quite a bit of money in this ability to produce electricity from the sun. While adding this green source to the grid is important, for the church it is also a symbol of responsible stewardship of the earth. Holy Trinity is making earth stewardship one of its core ministries.

Years ago I took a group of young people from another congregation on a mission trip to the Dominican Republic. Those middle class kids had never experienced any thing like the poverty we witnessed. After we returned, a reporter from the local newspaper did an interview with the young people. One young man was asked how he would compare life in the U.S. with life in the D.R. He responded that the Dominicans he met had to get by with very little while here we use and abuse.

Well, I hope that is changing. When a church is willing to raise funds and even borrow additional money to promote sustainability, I would say that is a hopeful sign on a grass roots level that change is afoot.

Disarray

2010-03-06T20:27:00.002-05:00

This week I cleaned off my desk. It looks so good. I can see the wood on the top. Only a few papers remain, just a small stack.

I've done this before, many times. It usually stays this way for a while and then the stacks grow taller. Soon, the papers spill out all over the top, and my orderly desk is in disarray.

My life is a lot like that, too. There is always some clutter.

But then again, sometimes I find something buried on my desk that gets my attention. It is like treasure buried in a field. And like the man in the parable, I know I must buy the whole field.

In the beginning was the Word

2010-03-06T19:47:00.002-05:00

Words can be a window to the soul, or they can hinder the discovery of our true self. In an age of sound bites and political posturing, words often convey little of substance. There is no encouragement from such empty words to explore our center, the threshold for holy conversations.

Jesus spoke in parables, a poetic way of conversing with truth. The words are not ends in themselves but offer a way out of self-absorption. These words invite us into the mystery of being, into a conversation with reality. To turn them into prose is to deny their invitation to open doors to more than ourselves.

Poets are courageous. They know the power of words and dare to raise questions that are usually avoided. The poetry of the Book of Common Prayer, for example, can shape our beliefs and draw us into a wider vision of God than ordinary words reveal.

The 23rd Psalm does this so very well. Through its poetry our great fears and hopes come into play. There is neither denial of vulnerability nor pious invincibility. We walk with death and discover God's presence.

Turn off the television and dare to begin a conversation with some part of yourself you have neglected to know. Let your poetry provide the introduction.

The Help

2010-02-09T21:04:00.003-05:00

I recently read Kathryn Stockett's The Help. The book was engaging as it peeked into the world of some southern women and their maids in the early 1960's.

I remember that period, and although I did not live in the deep south, it was not until I was in college that I attended classes with African Americans. During my childhood, there were two separate and unequal worlds. We did not see racial prejudice for what it was. Nothing seemed wrong with separating a group of people into a lesser category.

I think of that whenever someone says he or she longs for the good old days when values were more upright. While there were valuable things about the 50's and 60's, racial attitudes were not high on the list.

I know that I and my generation continue to be influenced by those early days of formation. And while we still have much to learn about relating to those different from us, I hope and pray that we have left behind the attitudes described by Stockett.

I recommend the book.

Winter Scene

2010-02-01T13:14:00.002-05:00

Winter

2010-02-01T12:12:00.002-05:00

Today is the first day of February and I'm ready for warm sunshine to fill the landscape. What was a flower garden last summer is now a collection of sticks flourished with dead leaves. I can hardly wait to be back among the blossoms.

Of course, there are sunny days in February. I notice on such days that winter shadows make known their presence in bold ways. The trees, empty of leaves, create long and lanky silhouettes that crawl along the ground and over walls and even embrace the garden shed. What was green a few months ago appears now in tones of brown.

I do like winter and am thankful for the different seasons. And the things I want to do outdoors can wait a few weeks. Meanwhile, there is a wonderful view from my front porch through the woods and over the pond to the street beyond. That view will diminish as leaves fill the empty spaces with their spring colors. Now is the time to look upon it so I can remember the distant hillside of barren trees and lengthy shadows come summer.

Former grounds of the Hotel Montana in Port au Prince

2010-01-27T23:26:00.003-05:00

A struggle with immortality

2010-01-26T20:35:00.005-05:00

The Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98 by Johannes Brahms reveals in the second movement a rendezvous with death. Such a preoccupation is typical of a requiem.

These days the sound of death can be heard on any news cast as stories of the dead and dying are told from Haiti. The symphony of death is played in tones of human misery.

We pray that the symphony's somber tones are nearing the end of their movement. While the struggle with immortality will continue to play its melody, new notes offer relief from the dirge of the earthquake's aftermath. A chorus of hope promises to break forth from the great passion and begin a new movement. A great chorus whose voice can be heard around the world.

Humanity is always struggling with immortality. But in this great symphony of Haiti, death cannot have the final sound. A rendezvous with death must give way to a transformation into hope. These are the chords of promise we long to hear. These are the sounds to be sung in Haiti.

A few days later

2010-01-16T21:43:00.003-05:00

So many of us want to do something to help the people of Haiti. The tragedy pulls at our hearts, especially when we see the photos and television images of Port au Prince. In time some may want to go to Haiti to help out. For now, the best we can do is pray and send money.

The helplessness of the earthquake victims is something hard to bear, especially for those of us who are can do Americans. Out of compassion we want to change the situation.

Perhaps in a time like this, we realize on some level that we are the heart and hands of Christ. Maybe we even feel that we must redeem the situation. If God is present, that presence must be in humanity.

In such a crisis as this, we may sense that creation has betrayed us. This is shocking if we believe that we are somehow shielded from such harm. This is too close to home.

One fading television figure has blamed the people of Haiti, charging that the tragedy is caused by the Haitians' rebellion against the French in the 19th Century. This is weird and cruel. I wonder if such an opinion does not arise from a deep-seated fear that God does not protect us from such a tragedy. Someone must be blamed in order to protect God.

It is frightening to realize that we are so vulnerable. But it is wondrous to see how caring we can be. Some of that, no doubt, comes from our fear of vulnerability. But a great deal of our compassion reveals a goodness planted deep within the heart of humankind. A place within us where Christ dwells.

Haitian kindergarten

2010-01-12T22:17:00.002-05:00

Things can change so quickly

2010-01-12T21:40:00.002-05:00

This evening's earthquake in Haiti is a horrible tragedy for the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Earlier today, before the earthquake, I received two emails and a phone call from people I know in Haiti. All were in need of money. With an 85% unemployment rate, many in Haiti have never known employment. Living from day to day without any certainly about how tomorrow's needs will be met is frequently the norm. Now this tragedy.

There are a number of relief organizations in Haiti. I am most familiar with Food for the Poor, the largest such organization in the country. Holy Trinity has worked with FFP for years in providing clean water wells along the northern coast. I have visited many of their projects around Haiti and in Port au Prince. Their work includes food relief, housing, clean water, schools, medical services, orphanages, fishing enterprises, agriculture work and numerous other ventures to bring hope to the poor.

In an earlier blog I wrote about my experience in visiting a Haitian prison. On that trip, as well as others, I stayed at the Hotel Montana in Port au Prince. This evening I learned that the grand old hotel was demolished by the earthquake. This says a great deal about the level of damage as the structure was formidable by Haitian standards.

Tonight I pray for the people of Haiti in their shock and loss. Tomorrow I will begin to see how we at Holy Trinity can reach out to our devastated neighbors to the south.

The snow lay on the ground

2010-01-11T17:27:00.003-05:00

I was surprised on Sunday to see the chapel at Holy Trinity almost full for the 8 a.m. Eucharist. I said to the congregation that I did not expect such high attendance given the cold and snowy weather. Someone responded, We couldn't stand being cooped-up at home any more.

Later I thought about the honesty of that statement and wondered if maybe that's what got the three magi on the trail of a star. They needed to get out of the house (or tent). And it could be that something similar is in part what drove the multitudes to wander down to the Jordan River to hear John the baptizer. Never underestimate the power of boredom to get something started.

Rolling past the shadows

2010-01-01T17:05:00.001-05:00

Shadows on the new day

2010-01-01T16:29:00.002-05:00

It is late afternoon and the first day of the new year already has shadows falling on it. These are the first evening shadows of 2010.

I've been thinking today of New Year's resolutions. Apart from my annual promise to lose weight, exercise and only eat healthy foods, I am filled with gratitude for the opportunities before me. I am surrounded with blessings.

Having said that, my resolution is to live into life's blessings more fully. This means confronting the anxiety and fear that I tend to drag up too regularly.

Overcoming fear is one of the big challenges of life. A lot of us carry a sense of fear around even when we don't recognize it. It is a lot like always seeing the glass half empty. Will there be enough? What will happen if I lose control?

The evening shadows today demonstrate that life goes on. Fears and anxieties will not keep the sun from setting. But they may prevent us from seeing the stars.

This year I want to enjoy the stars.

Christmas Lights

2009-12-22T18:33:00.003-05:00

Silent Night

2009-12-22T18:07:00.003-05:00

Many of us have favorite scenes around Christmas. These often involve children, those of our families or friends, or even memories of our own childhoods. I certainly remember the magic of Christmas from my preschool years.

As an adult, something I've come to treasure is that silent time after the congregation goes forth from the late service on Christmas Eve. All of the wondrous work is completed and an aura of holiness hangs in the air. The last door is secured and the empty road beckons home. It is a time to ponder the marvelous hymns we have sung, the children's pageant we have adored watching and strained to hear, the old friends we have seen and the ones who seem to be around only a couple of times each year. I love the great festivals of the church. And the silent time that follows is a gift for reflection.

A full reading of the Christmas gospel ends with Mary's pondering all these things in her heart. That silent, holy time is such an important part of Christmas. I look forward to it even though it will last only a few short hours before the sounds of my wonderful grandchildren will fill the air and the celebration will continue. And there will be even more to ponder.

Where life flows

2009-12-16T19:52:00.002-05:00

Some time ago I signed up for a free membership to a classmate site that promised to connect me with old friends. I soon found out that the free membership was mostly about receiving an invitation every few weeks to subscribe for a fee to more deluxe services. One day, however, I received, as a promo, a photo and some biographical data about an old friend. She was a couple of years behind me in high school. I replied to her and asked how she was doing.

Recently I checked out the latest promotion and found that several months ago she had replied to my query. She brought up a few memories and then related that her brother had committed suicide several years back.

Her brother had been one of my heroes. He was a couple of years ahead of me and the coolest guy in high school. I thought he was every thing I wanted to be. Now I learned that he had killed himself.

In my mind all my old friends are just as I remember them. I know that is not realistic but that is the only knowledge I have of most of them. So it was shocking to hear that someone as gifted and as cool as he was would commit suicide. I felt like I should have been around, should have been a better friend. Of course that doesn't make sense; I don't know anything about his adult life. So I just felt the sadness and remembered how much I thought of him.

I sometimes wish that I had kept in touch with all my old friends. But the truth is, for the most part, we went our separate ways. Few stayed behind in the small Texas town we cheered for on the gridiron.

I will include my friend from long ago in my prayers tonight.

Life can be hard

2009-12-08T18:37:00.001-05:00

Inside a Haitian Prison

2009-12-08T17:45:00.005-05:00

Life in Haiti is hard for almost everyone. With 85% unemployment, Haiti is a land of entrepreneurs who sell everything from charcoal to bananas. People stay alive by selling or trading whatever is available.

Recently, while in Haiti with Food for the Poor I visited a prison. The conditions were horrible. Thirty-nine men were kept in a cell approximately 10' by 14'. There were no bathing facilities and the toilet was a bucket in the center of the cell. To sleep the men took turns as there was not room enough on the floor for all to rest at the same time.

Food for the Poor had arranged for a prisoner to be released. He had been imprisoned for nine months for stealing rice. There had never been a trial as the man had no money for an attorney.

At his release we participated in a ceremonial washing of feet. The point was to show the love of God for this person who had so suffered. Afterward, we gave him new socks and shoes as well as other gifts. After driving him to his home town, we said good-bye and watched him head toward his home.

The gospel speaks of release for prisoners. I had never experienced the words of Matthew 25 in the way I did that day at the Fort Liberte Prison. Praise God for the glory of Christ.

For more information on our Haitian trip visit www.waterlifehope.blogspot.com.

Autumn lane

2009-11-23T17:00:00.002-05:00

Memories on a dreary, autumn day

2009-11-23T15:09:00.003-05:00

This afternoon I walked out to the road. The leaves were almost gone; only a little color remained. The sky was full of gray and the ground was wet from autumn rain. It was a gloomy scene that carried me back to such days of my youth. Sunday late afternoons were especially dreary. The sun that had befriended me throughout the summer seemed to have taken leave. The barren trees spoke of a loneliness that rested somewhere inside of me.

When I walked out to the road, I did not know that I was stepping into a memory. But looking down the lane, I knew the sights of autumns past. And I knew a bit of sadness, too.

The crucified king

2009-11-23T00:05:00.002-05:00

The reign of justice

2009-11-22T20:38:00.003-05:00

Today is Christ the King Sunday. The imagery of royalty hardly seems in keeping with the gospel of love and justice. Certainly in Jesus' time, kings and emperors were at the other end of the social pyramid from those who found hope in him. The use of royal language by the gospels turns upside the norms of imperialism. The kingdom of God was a counter kingdom. It mocked the values of Caesar by presenting a reign of truth and justice. Salvation claimed to be offered by both kingdoms, but what a different view of power and wealth and meaning they offered.

Along the way the church at times has looked more like it represented the kingdom of Caesar than the reign of the carpenter from Nazareth. It is something we have to guard against. Christ the King Sunday is about a mocked holy man who wore a crown of thrones. A man who revealed the love of God for the least in the kingdom of Caesar. It is the reign he incarnated that we celebrate.

Bleak day on Dartmoor

2009-11-16T17:58:00.001-05:00

That Great Void

2009-11-16T17:40:00.002-05:00

In reflecting on my last post (the imagery of the silent, frozen north ), I thought of a poem by R. S. Thomas. Thomas was so good at finding God in the shadows and voids. Here is his poem from a collection he entitled Counterpoint:

He is that great void

we must enter, calling

to one another on our way

in the direction from which

he blows. What matter

if we should never arrive

to breed or to winter

in the climate of conception?

Enough we have been given wings

and a needle in the mind

to respond to his bleak north.

There are times even at the Pole

when he, too, pauses in his withdrawal

so that it is light there all night long.

From Collected Later Poems 1988-2000 by R. S. Thomas (BloodaxeBooks)

Green earth

2009-11-15T21:39:00.000-05:00

Do we belong to the earth or does the earth belong to us?

2009-11-15T20:37:00.004-05:00

Recently I had lunch with Woody Bartlett, co-founder and board chair of Georgia Interfaith Power and Light. Woody maintains that the basic question for our stewardship of the earth is Do we belong to the earth or does the earth belong to us?

I was thinking of that question tonight at a Taize service. The candles flickered, the icons beckoned, and I entered into the silence offered in the middle of the service.

I got to thinking about Woody's question. Do we belong to the earth? An image that captured my imagination was of some barren, frozen place in the far north, with no one around and nothing to break the silence. It was uninviting and deathlike.

Then I remembered an experience I once had wherein I was reminded that the earth will receive me at my death. Earth to earth and ashes to ashes. And that was ok. I would return to the ground of creation, that which is molded by God and rests in God's hands. Since that experience, I have come to see death as a part of the cycle of life and deeply blessed. Moreover, I know more fully that it is to creation that I belong.

Perhaps we want to separate ourselves from the earth in part because if the earth belongs to us, that makes us a sort of god. We seem above it all and can even use the earth for our own purposes. We are no longer bound to the life cycle of creation. We belong to heaven, freed from the processes of creation.

That kind of thinking detaches us from who we truly are. It robs us of the honor of blessing creation and denies the sacredness of the earth.

Someone remarked that perhaps creation belongs to the future and we are its stewards. If so, faithful stewardship may depend on our willingness to see our destiny and that of earth as inseparable.

Crossroads

2009-11-09T20:08:00.000-05:00

Like still water

2009-11-09T19:42:00.003-05:00

We can make our minds

so like still water that

Beings gather about us

that they may see,

it may be, their own images,

and so live for a moment

with a clearer, perhaps even

with a fiercer, life

Because of our Quiet.

W. B. Yeats

River Flow

2009-11-01T19:04:00.000-05:00

The Well of Grief

2009-11-01T18:34:00.003-05:00

Today is All Saints' Day and it has encouraged me to think about what it means to be a saint. I believe being a saint has more to do with grace than with accomplishments, more to do with a willingness to accept God's gifts than achieving a certain status. If anyone is a saint, it is a gift bestowed and accepted.

Poet David Whyte writes, Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief...will never know the source from which we drink, the secret water, cold and clear...

Most of us spend a lot of time staying on the surface. Avoiding the deep can become a preoccupation. Today as we celebrated Holy Baptism, the call of deep water rose up in the liturgy and we were confronted with grace beyond our imagination.

Baptism is about living deeply. David Whyte is right to point out that moving into the depths does bring us grief. Baptism is as much about dying as it is about resurrection. Where death and new life touch can be found the secret water, cold and clear. There we are transformed, and there through grace, we become saints.

(David Whyte's poem is found in his collection entitled Where Many Waters Meet and is published by Many Rivers Press.

Blow your horn!

2009-10-31T22:23:00.000-04:00

Golden Apples of the Sun

2009-10-31T21:42:00.004-04:00

A few days ago I had the pleasure of attending the concert release of Caroline Herring's new album, Golden Apples of the Sun. From Abuelita, imagined underneath the trees of Costa Rica, to A Little Bit of Mercy, set on the train line in Decatur, Georgia, Caroline sings with a touch of melancholy that draws the heart home.

One of my favorites is See See Rider, a song that was first recorded by"Ma" Rainey of Columbus, Georgia in 1924 and later made popular by such diverse artists as Wee Bee Booze, Chuck Willis, Elvis Presley and the Grateful Dead. Caroline has produced a masterful arrangement in keeping with her forte.

My favorite track is Long Black Veil, a 1959 country ballad that has never sounded so good, thanks to Caroline's arrangement.

I'm always impressed with Caroline's talent, and this new cd reveals even more of the gifts of a friend and great artist.

Living with Mystery

2009-10-08T21:46:00.003-04:00

Richard Rohr writes, In the West, religion became preoccupied with telling people what to know more than how to know, telling people what to see more than how to see.

I find that it is usually when I am engaged by the other that I'm most likely to experience the sacred. Perhaps the other is another person, but it can also be another frame of mind or another way of listening. Just sitting on my porch swing or reading a book or simply listening in silence can be a gateway into a sacred experience.

The liturgy has the job of leading us into our souls. I believe that and sometimes experience it. At other times, however, my role in the liturgy is more about doing than being. More about accomplishment than surrender. Yet, the liturgy is probably the best teacher we have to open us to mystery and grace. It always encourages us to set aside what we know (or think we do) and simply experience the mystery of God.