A few sessions ago, our professor showed us this icon, which is on the interior of the dome of her church. It is of the last judgment, with the sheep to Jesus' right hand and the goats to his left. She pointed out to us that the goats remain in the presence of Jesus, even though they are miserable there. According to her, those who live according to God's will find his presence blissful; those who have not will find his presence - that light - tormenting. There is no place where God's light is not, so there cannot be a place in the universe without God. Hell therefore is being pained by God's presence, not absence. And she asked us to think about hell being not the absence of God, but rather God's presence. Hell could be not God sending people to eternal damnation, but rather the way we feel in the company of Someone so loving and holy. And we bring that on ourselves, my friends. It's got nothing to do with God's vengeance. God just loves us. How we feel about and react to that makes the difference in our experience.
Imagine how you'd feel watching some heinous act - a rape of a child, for instance, or a real enaction of one of these lovely movies come out recently (Saw, Hostel, etc). You couldn't stand it - it would repulse you and make you absolutely miserable. We can't abide the presence great evil.
So the one who has rejected God feels similarly in the presence of God. She or he can't abide such great goodness. It actually would hurt.
One of my books insisted that God's love has a "dark side," and hell is the jealous wrath of God toward those who rejected his love or harmed the community of humans with one another, Godself, and creation. This author insisted that hell is the absence of God, the eternal banishment from the comforting love of the Almighty into a place of utter isolation and loneliness.
Anyway, these days I tend more towards universalism, so I have trouble with that admittedly orthodox viewpoint. Yet I really like my prof's explanation. It wasn't something I'd thought about before. And the icon got me thinking about several things.
I was wondering who could feel terrible in the presence of such wide all-encompassing love? Who would actually be miserable? Apart from the utter evil person my professor talked about, which is obvious. I think it could only be a person who believes God's love should not be as wide or open as it is. One who hates God's mercy on those who are not what they consider worthy. A person who doesn't believe in the truly forgiving, graceful love of God (toward everyone - even gay people, abortion doctors, African bishops, you name it) would reject that love and be uncomfortable watching it lavished on others.
I fear that many who call themselves Christians will be uncomfortable - or pained - by it.
J also mentioned that if you see how much God loves you, but you don't love yourself, you won't be able to stand it. Your shame will overtake you.
See, there are a lot of ways to think about God's presence not being blissful. But they all depend on us and our reaction, not on who God is.
But I wonder: could the love of God, being in that presence, eventually stop hurting? After eons of time spent bathed in light, eventually would you stop being pained by it and maybe accept it? Would our own judgment on ourselves eventually drop away and we'd accept God's love and mercy?
Again, that's universalism. But if eternity is really the long time we think it's going to be, then I wonder whether we limit God's power by saying it's resistible for all time.
Of course, if you believe you don't have a chance to change after death, then this isn't applicable. But you have to ask yourself what kind of sense it makes for this blip on the face of history to count for all eternity? I know it's the traditional position, you only get one shot, it can be too late. But really, nobody knows for sure.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Schmemann Review
Alexander Schmemann’s Introduction to Liturgical Theology (3rd edition, St. Vladimir’s Press, 1986) is much more than a basic introductory textbook on liturgical theology. In dealing with his perceived problems in the Ordo of the church (specifically referring to his own church, Eastern Orthodox), Schmemann gives a fascinating treatise on the origins of the Ordo and its relationship to time and eschatology.
For Schmemann, the fundamental question of liturgical theology is the “Problem of the Ordo,” defined as the “elucidation of the content of the Ordo and its place in the liturgical tradition of the Church” (33). He begins the book by defining liturgical theology and its task and method: “From the establishment and interpretation of the basic structures of worship to an explanation of every possible element, and then to an orderly theological synthesis of all this data” (23). In doing this work, Schmemann has come across what he calls the Problem of the Ordo – not only that he wants to discover the historical and contemporary content of the Ordo, but also explore how it has changed throughout the ages, and where we are distorting or misunderstanding the original intention of the Church to the detriment of our worship and theology.
The primary distortion in Schmemann’s view is that liturgical scholars (and most theologians, following their lead) have determined that the early Church’s eschatological viewpoint put its Eucharistic worship at odds with a “liturgy of time” (that is, a liturgical calendar or daily prayer cycle). Schmemann explains that the earliest Christians, as good Jews, would have recognized the fulfillment of their eschatological hopes in Jesus the Messiah, and therefore their eschatology would not have been future-oriented because they would have understood the central act of history to have been accomplished. Christ’s entering time made it “truly real” and ushered in the redemptive “time of the Church: the time in which the salvation given by the Messiah is now accomplished” (72). Because it understood Jesus as the fulfillment of the work of God in history, the early Christian Church would not have rejected time bur rather seen it as redeemed and sanctified, and they celebrated yearly festivals, weekly fasts, public hours of prayer, and a fixed day for Eucharistic worship in confirmation of this understanding.
Schmemann’s book is extremely interesting for students of worship, ecclesiology, and eschatology. The first section on this oft-misunderstood discipline is instructive and understandable, persuading the reader that in fact we all do liturgical theology when planning worship and perhaps should be more intentional in doing so. The second section on the Problem of the Ordo is directed primarily at liturgical and Orthodox theologians who have either neglected the Ordo or so over-emphasized it that worship has become mechanical. However, I found many comparisons in this section to similar problems in non-Orthodox churches and for any worship planner to consider (explored in detail below). Finally, section three is a fascinating historical account of the understanding of time in the ancient world. Any student of the early Church or even history in general would be intrigued by Schmemann’s research and conclusions. He reaches provocative conclusions about the “now and later more” (rather than “already but not yet”) of the redemption of the world that would give many Evangelicals pause, but I found it to be absolutely mind-blowing – a completely new way to think about the meaning of the incarnation and its effect on time itself.
As a budding liturgical theologian, I strongly agree with Schmemann’s methodology in exploring the liturgy for clues to understanding the beliefs of the Church (then and now). He calls worship “the life of the Church, the public act which eternally actualizes the nature of the Church as the Body of Christ” (14) and later talks about Eucharist as the “manifestation in this aeon of another Aeon,” (75) and of the assembly of believers as the actualization of the messianic Kingdom (72). Clearly, what we do in worship – how we do worship – holds eternal significance for the life of the world. That is why studying the Ordo, both now and especially through the ages, is so important to our self-understanding and to properly present the Kingdom to the world. What we do in worship manifests God’s New Age – may we engage this task with utmost care!
Schmemann also points out how a full engagement with the liturgy can teach a great deal about the Church. He talks about the Church calendar as merely a rubric until one begins to understand the reasons behind the seasons. He strongly recommends (and I concur) that a division between corporate and private worship must cease to exist. Privatized, “Jesus-and-me” worship only is detrimental to believers’ self-understanding as One, Holy, Catholic body. Schmemann gives a wonderful description of these classic “marks” of the Church explicated through worship: “The purpose of worship is to constitute the Church, precisely to bring what is ‘private’ into the new life, to transform it [Holy]…to express the Church as the unity of that Body whose Head is Christ [One]…that we should always ‘with one mouth and one heart’ serve God [Catholic]” (24, emphasis added). The student of ecclesiology surely will find much to commend in Schmemann’s liturgical approach to the subject.
There are many areas in which an Evangelical or otherwise Protestant believer can use Schmemann’s arguments for her own edification. Schmemann laments his own church’s lack of interest in the meaning of worship, stating that worship “is accepted and experienced in mystical and aesthetic but never ‘logical’ categories” (31). Here he hits upon the “experience trap” that many smells-and-bells churches – as well as those with pulse-pounding-followed-by-heart-tugging music sets – fall into (I find this a particular danger for emerging churches). If the believer comes to worship simply to feel good, be moved emotionally, or have a spiritual “experience,” he is missing the point of worship and is dangerously close to bowing before a false god (frequently his own emotion). Liturgical theology is one answer to a deeper relationship with God, to more fully understanding the purpose of our gathering as Church. Schmemann’s Problem includes churches that refuse to abandon liturgical books in spite of changing language and culture (here I am reminded of those who fight against gender-inclusive language or updating prayer books), as well as churches which have put the Ordo in the background in favor of more “popular” moments of worship (I think of churches that do a 30-minute praise set and a 30-minute sermon). Schmemann’s assertion that “the meaning of the Church’s liturgical life must be contained with the Ordo” (39) – and here he is speaking of a four-fold Eucharistic worship pattern – may not sit well with many Evangelicals, but I truly believe they are missing out on a huge part of the Christian walk by not enriching their worship with the classic Ordo of the Church.
Briefly touching on the section regarding the Ordo in the first centuries of Christianity: we find here the most radical idea of Schmemann’s, which is a complete rethinking of the meaning of the word “eschatology” and time in general. Schmemann’s arguments for Jewish understanding of time and its fulfillment are compelling and it makes good sense that the early Church would adopt them. This leads to a challenge for us to wrap our minds around the Ages as “now and later more” rather than “already but not yet” (my semantic trick to emphasize the importance of the “now”). In other words, everything that needed to be accomplished for the redemption of the world and the fulfillment of history was done in Christ. The Church therefore, when assembled, is the Body of Christ and the manifestation of his Messianic Kingdom – the New Age – in the world. The partaking of Eucharist is our way of entering Christ’s heavenly glory, the parousia, and ushering the New Aeon here into the Old. The world does not see or understand, but one day will recognize all of this.
This section (pp. 68-80) is extremely dense and takes a few readings to fully grasp (especially because the ideas are so foreign to those of us raised as good Dispensationalists!). But once understood, they are most exciting and life-giving. They point to a purpose behind our worship which is truly world-changing and cosmically significant. I found this new way of thinking about the redemption of the world and the sanctification of time to be utterly challenging and at the same time absolutely affirming. I don’t believe I can ever again take Eucharist or pray Morning Prayer without considering the awesome significance of the actions of our worship.
Although the Evangelical reader may find this book foreign and confusing at first, I believe with perseverance she or he will discover much to commend and ponder in it. She will learn about the meaning and significance of worship; he will be challenged to rethink eschatology and time. They will re-engage the ancient Ordo of the Church in a new commitment to fulfilling their roles as “Kingdom-actualizers” and “New-Age-Manifesters.” And that would certainly change the world.
For Schmemann, the fundamental question of liturgical theology is the “Problem of the Ordo,” defined as the “elucidation of the content of the Ordo and its place in the liturgical tradition of the Church” (33). He begins the book by defining liturgical theology and its task and method: “From the establishment and interpretation of the basic structures of worship to an explanation of every possible element, and then to an orderly theological synthesis of all this data” (23). In doing this work, Schmemann has come across what he calls the Problem of the Ordo – not only that he wants to discover the historical and contemporary content of the Ordo, but also explore how it has changed throughout the ages, and where we are distorting or misunderstanding the original intention of the Church to the detriment of our worship and theology.
The primary distortion in Schmemann’s view is that liturgical scholars (and most theologians, following their lead) have determined that the early Church’s eschatological viewpoint put its Eucharistic worship at odds with a “liturgy of time” (that is, a liturgical calendar or daily prayer cycle). Schmemann explains that the earliest Christians, as good Jews, would have recognized the fulfillment of their eschatological hopes in Jesus the Messiah, and therefore their eschatology would not have been future-oriented because they would have understood the central act of history to have been accomplished. Christ’s entering time made it “truly real” and ushered in the redemptive “time of the Church: the time in which the salvation given by the Messiah is now accomplished” (72). Because it understood Jesus as the fulfillment of the work of God in history, the early Christian Church would not have rejected time bur rather seen it as redeemed and sanctified, and they celebrated yearly festivals, weekly fasts, public hours of prayer, and a fixed day for Eucharistic worship in confirmation of this understanding.
Schmemann’s book is extremely interesting for students of worship, ecclesiology, and eschatology. The first section on this oft-misunderstood discipline is instructive and understandable, persuading the reader that in fact we all do liturgical theology when planning worship and perhaps should be more intentional in doing so. The second section on the Problem of the Ordo is directed primarily at liturgical and Orthodox theologians who have either neglected the Ordo or so over-emphasized it that worship has become mechanical. However, I found many comparisons in this section to similar problems in non-Orthodox churches and for any worship planner to consider (explored in detail below). Finally, section three is a fascinating historical account of the understanding of time in the ancient world. Any student of the early Church or even history in general would be intrigued by Schmemann’s research and conclusions. He reaches provocative conclusions about the “now and later more” (rather than “already but not yet”) of the redemption of the world that would give many Evangelicals pause, but I found it to be absolutely mind-blowing – a completely new way to think about the meaning of the incarnation and its effect on time itself.
As a budding liturgical theologian, I strongly agree with Schmemann’s methodology in exploring the liturgy for clues to understanding the beliefs of the Church (then and now). He calls worship “the life of the Church, the public act which eternally actualizes the nature of the Church as the Body of Christ” (14) and later talks about Eucharist as the “manifestation in this aeon of another Aeon,” (75) and of the assembly of believers as the actualization of the messianic Kingdom (72). Clearly, what we do in worship – how we do worship – holds eternal significance for the life of the world. That is why studying the Ordo, both now and especially through the ages, is so important to our self-understanding and to properly present the Kingdom to the world. What we do in worship manifests God’s New Age – may we engage this task with utmost care!
Schmemann also points out how a full engagement with the liturgy can teach a great deal about the Church. He talks about the Church calendar as merely a rubric until one begins to understand the reasons behind the seasons. He strongly recommends (and I concur) that a division between corporate and private worship must cease to exist. Privatized, “Jesus-and-me” worship only is detrimental to believers’ self-understanding as One, Holy, Catholic body. Schmemann gives a wonderful description of these classic “marks” of the Church explicated through worship: “The purpose of worship is to constitute the Church, precisely to bring what is ‘private’ into the new life, to transform it [Holy]…to express the Church as the unity of that Body whose Head is Christ [One]…that we should always ‘with one mouth and one heart’ serve God [Catholic]” (24, emphasis added). The student of ecclesiology surely will find much to commend in Schmemann’s liturgical approach to the subject.
There are many areas in which an Evangelical or otherwise Protestant believer can use Schmemann’s arguments for her own edification. Schmemann laments his own church’s lack of interest in the meaning of worship, stating that worship “is accepted and experienced in mystical and aesthetic but never ‘logical’ categories” (31). Here he hits upon the “experience trap” that many smells-and-bells churches – as well as those with pulse-pounding-followed-by-heart-tugging music sets – fall into (I find this a particular danger for emerging churches). If the believer comes to worship simply to feel good, be moved emotionally, or have a spiritual “experience,” he is missing the point of worship and is dangerously close to bowing before a false god (frequently his own emotion). Liturgical theology is one answer to a deeper relationship with God, to more fully understanding the purpose of our gathering as Church. Schmemann’s Problem includes churches that refuse to abandon liturgical books in spite of changing language and culture (here I am reminded of those who fight against gender-inclusive language or updating prayer books), as well as churches which have put the Ordo in the background in favor of more “popular” moments of worship (I think of churches that do a 30-minute praise set and a 30-minute sermon). Schmemann’s assertion that “the meaning of the Church’s liturgical life must be contained with the Ordo” (39) – and here he is speaking of a four-fold Eucharistic worship pattern – may not sit well with many Evangelicals, but I truly believe they are missing out on a huge part of the Christian walk by not enriching their worship with the classic Ordo of the Church.
Briefly touching on the section regarding the Ordo in the first centuries of Christianity: we find here the most radical idea of Schmemann’s, which is a complete rethinking of the meaning of the word “eschatology” and time in general. Schmemann’s arguments for Jewish understanding of time and its fulfillment are compelling and it makes good sense that the early Church would adopt them. This leads to a challenge for us to wrap our minds around the Ages as “now and later more” rather than “already but not yet” (my semantic trick to emphasize the importance of the “now”). In other words, everything that needed to be accomplished for the redemption of the world and the fulfillment of history was done in Christ. The Church therefore, when assembled, is the Body of Christ and the manifestation of his Messianic Kingdom – the New Age – in the world. The partaking of Eucharist is our way of entering Christ’s heavenly glory, the parousia, and ushering the New Aeon here into the Old. The world does not see or understand, but one day will recognize all of this.
This section (pp. 68-80) is extremely dense and takes a few readings to fully grasp (especially because the ideas are so foreign to those of us raised as good Dispensationalists!). But once understood, they are most exciting and life-giving. They point to a purpose behind our worship which is truly world-changing and cosmically significant. I found this new way of thinking about the redemption of the world and the sanctification of time to be utterly challenging and at the same time absolutely affirming. I don’t believe I can ever again take Eucharist or pray Morning Prayer without considering the awesome significance of the actions of our worship.
Although the Evangelical reader may find this book foreign and confusing at first, I believe with perseverance she or he will discover much to commend and ponder in it. She will learn about the meaning and significance of worship; he will be challenged to rethink eschatology and time. They will re-engage the ancient Ordo of the Church in a new commitment to fulfilling their roles as “Kingdom-actualizers” and “New-Age-Manifesters.” And that would certainly change the world.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Stewardship
I love where I live. I love my neighborhood, I love walking around, I love our many birds (including wild parrots), I love that my cats can go out and roam around, I love my neighbors. I'd rather have a house of my own, of course, but that doesn't seem to be in the cards.
Yet I am strongly feeling as if we are being bad stewards of our money. We spend about half our income on rent. It is not terribly hard to find places comparable or smaller that would save us up to $500/month. Especially in our tumultuous financial situation, I wonder if we are not being responsible with how we manage our budget. We took this apartment in stronger times, and since then money's gotten tight and rent's gone up.
You're probably wondering why we don't live in student housing. I really, really wish we could! But our cats prevent it. They did finally open one place that will take pets, but only one per household. So we don't qualify because we have two. Some people have sincerely asked why we don't just get rid of the cats. One sweetie offered to take one for the time being. And we had the horrible conversation about which one we'd give up if we went that way. We actually considered it! And I'll tell you, there is something deep between me and those animals, because just thinking of giving them up made me almost vomit. I cried and cried. I love them so deeply. They give me so much peace. They comfort us when we are sad or sick. They come when I'm scared alone at night. There is seriously nothing like a cat's purr to lower the blood pressure. They've even inspired me to deeper spiritual thought on occasion (see my old post on The Messenger).
No, I don't think I can just give up my kids. Even one. I don't think so. And it makes me sad that Fuller has this policy, because really cats are quieter and cleaner and less destructive than children, and people have all kinds of those in the student housing! Especially in these places with hardwood floors, there's literally nothing the cats could bother. And these are old ladies, who don't do much anyway but sleep. And purr. They are really the sweetest darlings in the world. I'm so sad that they stand in the way but there's really nothing I can do.
So we continue thinking about finding another place, a place that will take cats, and I get mad at Fuller every now and then for their dumb policy.
I'd be so sad to leave this apartment. I finally feel like I'm home again (this little town is "home" for us). And I'd feel materialistic giving this up just for extra money. But it's not so we can be rich - it's so we can buy groceries and gas.
I don't know what the answer is. I'm just throwing it out to the universe and praying something will arise that either makes me feel better or perhaps we'll get offered a year-long house-sitting gig (yeah baby!). Anyway, this is what is on my heart today. As a seminarian, I can't help overthinking and overChristianizing everything. Well, I write this blog to tell you what it's like to be in my shoes. So these are the things you think about when you're trying to do God's work.
Yet I am strongly feeling as if we are being bad stewards of our money. We spend about half our income on rent. It is not terribly hard to find places comparable or smaller that would save us up to $500/month. Especially in our tumultuous financial situation, I wonder if we are not being responsible with how we manage our budget. We took this apartment in stronger times, and since then money's gotten tight and rent's gone up.
You're probably wondering why we don't live in student housing. I really, really wish we could! But our cats prevent it. They did finally open one place that will take pets, but only one per household. So we don't qualify because we have two. Some people have sincerely asked why we don't just get rid of the cats. One sweetie offered to take one for the time being. And we had the horrible conversation about which one we'd give up if we went that way. We actually considered it! And I'll tell you, there is something deep between me and those animals, because just thinking of giving them up made me almost vomit. I cried and cried. I love them so deeply. They give me so much peace. They comfort us when we are sad or sick. They come when I'm scared alone at night. There is seriously nothing like a cat's purr to lower the blood pressure. They've even inspired me to deeper spiritual thought on occasion (see my old post on The Messenger).
No, I don't think I can just give up my kids. Even one. I don't think so. And it makes me sad that Fuller has this policy, because really cats are quieter and cleaner and less destructive than children, and people have all kinds of those in the student housing! Especially in these places with hardwood floors, there's literally nothing the cats could bother. And these are old ladies, who don't do much anyway but sleep. And purr. They are really the sweetest darlings in the world. I'm so sad that they stand in the way but there's really nothing I can do.
So we continue thinking about finding another place, a place that will take cats, and I get mad at Fuller every now and then for their dumb policy.
I'd be so sad to leave this apartment. I finally feel like I'm home again (this little town is "home" for us). And I'd feel materialistic giving this up just for extra money. But it's not so we can be rich - it's so we can buy groceries and gas.
I don't know what the answer is. I'm just throwing it out to the universe and praying something will arise that either makes me feel better or perhaps we'll get offered a year-long house-sitting gig (yeah baby!). Anyway, this is what is on my heart today. As a seminarian, I can't help overthinking and overChristianizing everything. Well, I write this blog to tell you what it's like to be in my shoes. So these are the things you think about when you're trying to do God's work.
Monday, July 17, 2006
did i do right?
So.
This job at USC, putting together the national interfaith conference, seemed like such a great opportunity. I'd get to keep working with the students I love, and I'd make some money, and I'd have a very cool thing to put on my resume.
But they just couldn't get me hired. They couldn't work out how to do it through USC. So for several weeks they fought the system. Then it finally came down that I'd have to go through a temp agency. So I went and signed up and did a mound of paperwork and a background check and all the hoopla.
Through all this I've been praying for guidance. I've felt on one hand unsure about going forward with the job, because it sets me back another year for graduating (because I have a 9-month internship at a church to fulfill, and I can't do both that and the job and school full-time). But I felt a lot of loyalty to USC and we need the money. And when I met up with my mentor after she'd been away 6 weeks, I felt really good about working with her again.
So I did all the temp agency stuff, and then randomly Friday night I got a call from my friends at 'SC saying the temp agency declined me. I couldn't find out why until this morning, when I called and they said they couldn't tell me why, "by law." My best guess is that I had a worker's comp claim back a few years ago when I worked for 'SC. Now it is illegal for them to deny me employment because I've used worker's comp, so that's why I figure they won't tell me the reason. But there is absolutely no other possible reason. So I'm a victim of ugly circumstances.
Or another way to think of it is that perhaps my gut telling me all along to stick with school has been correct. Maybe I was pushing to hard for this other thing, and God is sending the sign I was asking for.
Anyway, Friday night at the same time I was getting the call about the denial, I was sent an email by a priest friend at a very prominent Episcopal church. I haven't talked to her in ages and we've never specifically discussed working together. But she said she'd thought of me in her prayers, and she asked me if I'd like to do an internship with her.
Now if that's not a sign I really don't know what is.
I mean, I didn't even ask. She randomly offered. And it came out of her prayers, out of the Spirit prompting her. And I've been praying for God to guide me to the right thing, every day praying this. And there really couldn't be a clearer door slamming than "we can't tell you why, we just won't hire you."
So why do I feel so bad?
Well, I talked to mentor this morning, and she was thrilled with my internship prospect. To her, this is a seriously important offer and one that will stand me in very good stead for my career and ordination process. I felt great after that conversation.
Then I got a call from the head of the office at USC, and she had been working all morning on an alternative way to hire me, and had found a couple ways (one is another temp agency that the first temp agency said "probably won't have a problem hiring her"; the other is just saying I'm an independent consultant even though I'm not technically independent because they're giving me all my direction). I told her a bit about the events of the last few days and how I really felt guided towards this other option. She said, "So you just want to pull out?" And I said yes.
She is the kind of person who is very much all business and basically once I said that she ended the conversation. And really that is fine and appropriate. Why waste any time with me? But now I do feel bad. I feel like they put all this work into me and I dropped the ball. But I didn't - I really tried, and they did too, and the doors were just slamming all over the place. It just seemed not destined to be. But I hate talking like that to "normal" people because it sounds so superstitious. Of course she's a rabbi and she gets the whole God guidance thing. But I still feel icky. She certainly wasn't mean or anything, nor rude or short. She simply could tell it was over and that was that. I desperately hope I didn't leave on bad terms.
Anyway, how does this look to the impartial observer? I'm trying not to worry about it but I do feel quite badly, because they were ready to try anything to get me and I cut it short. When we can't pay for groceries in a few months (or more likely, gas), will I regret this? When I am trying to get a chaplain job and I want her recommendation...? When I am killing myself to finish "on time" because I'm anal...
I don't know. I don't feel great about it anymore. I did at one point. It seemed so clear. Now I'm muddled again. God, it had been a long time since something seemed that clear. It was great for a moment.
This job at USC, putting together the national interfaith conference, seemed like such a great opportunity. I'd get to keep working with the students I love, and I'd make some money, and I'd have a very cool thing to put on my resume.
But they just couldn't get me hired. They couldn't work out how to do it through USC. So for several weeks they fought the system. Then it finally came down that I'd have to go through a temp agency. So I went and signed up and did a mound of paperwork and a background check and all the hoopla.
Through all this I've been praying for guidance. I've felt on one hand unsure about going forward with the job, because it sets me back another year for graduating (because I have a 9-month internship at a church to fulfill, and I can't do both that and the job and school full-time). But I felt a lot of loyalty to USC and we need the money. And when I met up with my mentor after she'd been away 6 weeks, I felt really good about working with her again.
So I did all the temp agency stuff, and then randomly Friday night I got a call from my friends at 'SC saying the temp agency declined me. I couldn't find out why until this morning, when I called and they said they couldn't tell me why, "by law." My best guess is that I had a worker's comp claim back a few years ago when I worked for 'SC. Now it is illegal for them to deny me employment because I've used worker's comp, so that's why I figure they won't tell me the reason. But there is absolutely no other possible reason. So I'm a victim of ugly circumstances.
Or another way to think of it is that perhaps my gut telling me all along to stick with school has been correct. Maybe I was pushing to hard for this other thing, and God is sending the sign I was asking for.
Anyway, Friday night at the same time I was getting the call about the denial, I was sent an email by a priest friend at a very prominent Episcopal church. I haven't talked to her in ages and we've never specifically discussed working together. But she said she'd thought of me in her prayers, and she asked me if I'd like to do an internship with her.
Now if that's not a sign I really don't know what is.
I mean, I didn't even ask. She randomly offered. And it came out of her prayers, out of the Spirit prompting her. And I've been praying for God to guide me to the right thing, every day praying this. And there really couldn't be a clearer door slamming than "we can't tell you why, we just won't hire you."
So why do I feel so bad?
Well, I talked to mentor this morning, and she was thrilled with my internship prospect. To her, this is a seriously important offer and one that will stand me in very good stead for my career and ordination process. I felt great after that conversation.
Then I got a call from the head of the office at USC, and she had been working all morning on an alternative way to hire me, and had found a couple ways (one is another temp agency that the first temp agency said "probably won't have a problem hiring her"; the other is just saying I'm an independent consultant even though I'm not technically independent because they're giving me all my direction). I told her a bit about the events of the last few days and how I really felt guided towards this other option. She said, "So you just want to pull out?" And I said yes.
She is the kind of person who is very much all business and basically once I said that she ended the conversation. And really that is fine and appropriate. Why waste any time with me? But now I do feel bad. I feel like they put all this work into me and I dropped the ball. But I didn't - I really tried, and they did too, and the doors were just slamming all over the place. It just seemed not destined to be. But I hate talking like that to "normal" people because it sounds so superstitious. Of course she's a rabbi and she gets the whole God guidance thing. But I still feel icky. She certainly wasn't mean or anything, nor rude or short. She simply could tell it was over and that was that. I desperately hope I didn't leave on bad terms.
Anyway, how does this look to the impartial observer? I'm trying not to worry about it but I do feel quite badly, because they were ready to try anything to get me and I cut it short. When we can't pay for groceries in a few months (or more likely, gas), will I regret this? When I am trying to get a chaplain job and I want her recommendation...? When I am killing myself to finish "on time" because I'm anal...
I don't know. I don't feel great about it anymore. I did at one point. It seemed so clear. Now I'm muddled again. God, it had been a long time since something seemed that clear. It was great for a moment.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Liberal Christianity Losing It?
This article appeared in last Sunday's LA Times (may require free registration but they don't spam). My first reaction was that this a conservative Catholic wrinkling her nose at the grossness of gay people under a veneer of moral rectitude and incorrect "facts" about the decline of the Episcopal and Presbyterian Churches. Basically, our churches are "failing" because we let in the gays, ordain women, and don't demand a list of righteous do's-and-dont's from our members (we actually let people think for themselves...scary). She's also mad because we won't do resolutions that state things we obviously believe because we say them in our creed every week. In her world, all churches of these denominations are down to 80 people who will die in a generation leaving no Episco's or Presby's anymore.
I hope she never visits California. All the churches of that ilk that I've attended out here are - gasp - thriving. Really. If the Presby's are so bad off, I'm not sure why hundreds of them come to my seminary each year to reach a deeper level of discipleship and often pursue ordination. If the Episcopalians are so bad off, I'm not sure why my church has 250 children in Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.
Anyway, I can only go from my own anecdotal evidence and my gut reaction (not that I'm incapable of doing a fine response, I'm just too busy reading hundreds of pages about eschatology right now - and I gotta say, for the end of the world, it's not as exciting as you might think. Say you what want, Left Behind is at least engaging). But our bishop wrote a really lovely response, which I will post for you now.
Open Hearted, Open Minded Christianity
by The Right Reverend J. Jon Bruno and The Reverend Bryan Jones
In recent years the Episcopal Church has acted from a firm foundation of biblical, historic faith, not on “whatever the liberal elements of secular society deem permissible or politically correct” as contended by Charlotte Allen in her diatribe against the Episcopal and Presbyterian churches, “Liberal Christianity is paying for its sins” (Los Angeles Times, Sunday, July 9, 2006).
Episcopalians seek to follow Jesus’ own understanding of scripture when he identified two commandments from the Torah (Deuteronomy 6:5, Leviticus 19:18): “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” as greater than any other portions of Scripture (Matthew 22:36-40). We believe that the central biblical mandates are clear: to love, welcome, and include all people into an egalitarian Christian fellowship, in which “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28, Colossians 3:11). It is in these overarching commandments and central mandates from the Bible as a whole that we find the authority of Scripture. We do not look for that authority in any handful of scattered, isolated passages selectively gathered to rationalize intolerance, cruelty or unfairness.
This basic call of God in Christ leads Christians in each age to new awareness of still unresolved divisions and unaddressed exclusions in the Church and in society. In our own times, this dynamic has led the Episcopal Church and many other American churches into conflicts over injustice and oppression against people of color, the poor, and immigrants, as well as over the equality of women and the full humanity of gay and lesbian people.
Our current conflicts are real but should not be overblown. Out of more than 7,000 congregations nationwide fewer than 150 have sought to leave the Episcopal Church. Out of 111 dioceses, seven are seeking ecclesiastical oversight from someone other than our newly elected Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, while making it clear that they do not wish to leave the Episcopal Church.
The Episcopal Church is open to all people regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation. Within the broad parameters of essential Christian conviction and practice, it celebrates a diversity of opinions and positions on many issues. We are bound together by common prayer and shared worship, so we have no need to impose uniformity in thought and doctrine. At our best we are open-hearted and open-minded followers of Christ. We democratically elect our bishops, priests, and lay leaders at all levels of the church. We respect each person’s right to conscience. We know our understanding is limited and often mistaken but we strive together to hear God’s voice in Scripture, in the tradition of the Church and in our God-given capacities to think and feel, to reflect and to learn.
In her article, Charlotte Allen paints a picture of the Episcopal Church in particular and the American religious landscape in general that is simplistic and inaccurate. In her view churches can be neatly divided into denominations which are declining because of their liberalism and denominations which are growing because they are conservative. Reality, as usual, is a bit more complex. The Episcopal Church was never simply “the Republican Party at prayer.” It always has been and still is home to people who are both theologically and politically conservative, moderate and liberal. It is the church of Gerald Ford and George H.W. Bush, but also of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a life long active Episcopalian whose social conscience was formed by the Episcopal schools of his youth. Even the Southern Baptists are more diverse than their commonly assigned caricature. The last three Baptist Presidents were named Truman, Carter and Clinton.
Declining Church membership and attendance is a broader phenomenon as well. The Southern Baptist Convention now publicly worries that its plateaued membership numbers and declining baptism rates augur future decline. Some recent studies reveal that attendance has started to decline in evangelical congregations and conservative mega churches as well. It is true that the overall membership of the Episcopal Church has declined since the 1960’s. But it also true that a majority of its dioceses experienced increases in their active members (communicants) between 1993 and 2003. For example here in California the “liberal” diocese of Los Angeles and the “conservative” diocese of San Joaquin grew at nearly equal rates. (13.9% with 1,018 new communicants for San Joaquin and 12% with 5,869 new communicants for Los Angeles.)
Christianity in North America is moving through a great historic transition which may have first expressed itself among mainline denominations, but is not stopping there. We have moved into an era where, regardless of nominal identifications, only a minority of Americans are active, church-going Christians of any stripe. The rivers of societal sanctions and cultural norms no longer flow through church doors depositing people in the pews. Today the majority of Americans no longer fear either social ostracism or eternal damnation when they choose not to go church. The palpable tone of hostile resentment in so many public voices of American Christianity today arises out of grief at the passing of that socially conventional church. But we are convinced that its passing is all to the good. Too often the motivation of religious fear bore the bitter fruit of anxious lives and judgmental communities, hardly the joyous fruits of the Spirit which the poetry of St. Paul sings praises to (Galatians 5:22-23). Far better for churches of any size to be filled with people who have consciously chosen to sing praises faithfully and gratefully towards the loving God they find there.
And while we are at it, let’s sing a few praises for Katherine Jefferts Schori, newly elected as the first woman Presiding Bishop in the Episcopal Church. Her ministry continues to embody what Christian churches in the 21st century should be about. Her vision for the Church calls us beyond the current disputes to Christ’s call to comfort the mourning, feed the hungry, and preach good news to the poor.
Every week in tens of thousands of churches, including Episcopal congregations, people are quietly living into that vision by caring for their neighbors. A recent study from the University of Chicago revealed that presently 50% of Americans report they have fewer than three people in their lives they can confide in. Twenty-five percent report they have no one to confide in at all. In such unprecedented social isolation, loneliness may be the hunger and poverty that is shared most often by people at all levels of our society. Although we make no claims that it is the only place where a life different from this can be found, we know the local Episcopal congregation offers a blessed alternative. There you will find a faith community where people know and care for each other; respect differences, and share the presence of God, whose love passes all our understanding.
J. Jon Bruno is the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles. Bryan Jones is Rector of St. Thomas of Canterbury Episcopal Church in Long Beach.
I hope she never visits California. All the churches of that ilk that I've attended out here are - gasp - thriving. Really. If the Presby's are so bad off, I'm not sure why hundreds of them come to my seminary each year to reach a deeper level of discipleship and often pursue ordination. If the Episcopalians are so bad off, I'm not sure why my church has 250 children in Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.
Anyway, I can only go from my own anecdotal evidence and my gut reaction (not that I'm incapable of doing a fine response, I'm just too busy reading hundreds of pages about eschatology right now - and I gotta say, for the end of the world, it's not as exciting as you might think. Say you what want, Left Behind is at least engaging). But our bishop wrote a really lovely response, which I will post for you now.
Open Hearted, Open Minded Christianity
by The Right Reverend J. Jon Bruno and The Reverend Bryan Jones
In recent years the Episcopal Church has acted from a firm foundation of biblical, historic faith, not on “whatever the liberal elements of secular society deem permissible or politically correct” as contended by Charlotte Allen in her diatribe against the Episcopal and Presbyterian churches, “Liberal Christianity is paying for its sins” (Los Angeles Times, Sunday, July 9, 2006).
Episcopalians seek to follow Jesus’ own understanding of scripture when he identified two commandments from the Torah (Deuteronomy 6:5, Leviticus 19:18): “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” as greater than any other portions of Scripture (Matthew 22:36-40). We believe that the central biblical mandates are clear: to love, welcome, and include all people into an egalitarian Christian fellowship, in which “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28, Colossians 3:11). It is in these overarching commandments and central mandates from the Bible as a whole that we find the authority of Scripture. We do not look for that authority in any handful of scattered, isolated passages selectively gathered to rationalize intolerance, cruelty or unfairness.
This basic call of God in Christ leads Christians in each age to new awareness of still unresolved divisions and unaddressed exclusions in the Church and in society. In our own times, this dynamic has led the Episcopal Church and many other American churches into conflicts over injustice and oppression against people of color, the poor, and immigrants, as well as over the equality of women and the full humanity of gay and lesbian people.
Our current conflicts are real but should not be overblown. Out of more than 7,000 congregations nationwide fewer than 150 have sought to leave the Episcopal Church. Out of 111 dioceses, seven are seeking ecclesiastical oversight from someone other than our newly elected Presiding Bishop, Katharine Jefferts Schori, while making it clear that they do not wish to leave the Episcopal Church.
The Episcopal Church is open to all people regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation. Within the broad parameters of essential Christian conviction and practice, it celebrates a diversity of opinions and positions on many issues. We are bound together by common prayer and shared worship, so we have no need to impose uniformity in thought and doctrine. At our best we are open-hearted and open-minded followers of Christ. We democratically elect our bishops, priests, and lay leaders at all levels of the church. We respect each person’s right to conscience. We know our understanding is limited and often mistaken but we strive together to hear God’s voice in Scripture, in the tradition of the Church and in our God-given capacities to think and feel, to reflect and to learn.
In her article, Charlotte Allen paints a picture of the Episcopal Church in particular and the American religious landscape in general that is simplistic and inaccurate. In her view churches can be neatly divided into denominations which are declining because of their liberalism and denominations which are growing because they are conservative. Reality, as usual, is a bit more complex. The Episcopal Church was never simply “the Republican Party at prayer.” It always has been and still is home to people who are both theologically and politically conservative, moderate and liberal. It is the church of Gerald Ford and George H.W. Bush, but also of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a life long active Episcopalian whose social conscience was formed by the Episcopal schools of his youth. Even the Southern Baptists are more diverse than their commonly assigned caricature. The last three Baptist Presidents were named Truman, Carter and Clinton.
Declining Church membership and attendance is a broader phenomenon as well. The Southern Baptist Convention now publicly worries that its plateaued membership numbers and declining baptism rates augur future decline. Some recent studies reveal that attendance has started to decline in evangelical congregations and conservative mega churches as well. It is true that the overall membership of the Episcopal Church has declined since the 1960’s. But it also true that a majority of its dioceses experienced increases in their active members (communicants) between 1993 and 2003. For example here in California the “liberal” diocese of Los Angeles and the “conservative” diocese of San Joaquin grew at nearly equal rates. (13.9% with 1,018 new communicants for San Joaquin and 12% with 5,869 new communicants for Los Angeles.)
Christianity in North America is moving through a great historic transition which may have first expressed itself among mainline denominations, but is not stopping there. We have moved into an era where, regardless of nominal identifications, only a minority of Americans are active, church-going Christians of any stripe. The rivers of societal sanctions and cultural norms no longer flow through church doors depositing people in the pews. Today the majority of Americans no longer fear either social ostracism or eternal damnation when they choose not to go church. The palpable tone of hostile resentment in so many public voices of American Christianity today arises out of grief at the passing of that socially conventional church. But we are convinced that its passing is all to the good. Too often the motivation of religious fear bore the bitter fruit of anxious lives and judgmental communities, hardly the joyous fruits of the Spirit which the poetry of St. Paul sings praises to (Galatians 5:22-23). Far better for churches of any size to be filled with people who have consciously chosen to sing praises faithfully and gratefully towards the loving God they find there.
And while we are at it, let’s sing a few praises for Katherine Jefferts Schori, newly elected as the first woman Presiding Bishop in the Episcopal Church. Her ministry continues to embody what Christian churches in the 21st century should be about. Her vision for the Church calls us beyond the current disputes to Christ’s call to comfort the mourning, feed the hungry, and preach good news to the poor.
Every week in tens of thousands of churches, including Episcopal congregations, people are quietly living into that vision by caring for their neighbors. A recent study from the University of Chicago revealed that presently 50% of Americans report they have fewer than three people in their lives they can confide in. Twenty-five percent report they have no one to confide in at all. In such unprecedented social isolation, loneliness may be the hunger and poverty that is shared most often by people at all levels of our society. Although we make no claims that it is the only place where a life different from this can be found, we know the local Episcopal congregation offers a blessed alternative. There you will find a faith community where people know and care for each other; respect differences, and share the presence of God, whose love passes all our understanding.
J. Jon Bruno is the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles. Bryan Jones is Rector of St. Thomas of Canterbury Episcopal Church in Long Beach.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Now and Later More
This is my new way to think about eschatology. Not "already but not yet," which can end up sounding like Jesus left the job half-finished. I like "now and later more," which is what I gathered from Alexander Schmemann's explanation of early church eschatology. I'll post my notes below. It's dense stuff, but really mind-blowing. Maybe I'll also post my review of his entire book, if you think that would be interesting.
Alexander Schmemann, Introduction to Liturgical Theology
(p 68-80)
Background: Schmemann has explained that previous scholars have asserted that the “liturgy of time” (that is, recognition of special times for worship and prayer) arose only in the monastic era (fourth century). He says they are missing a huge connection from Jewish to Christian prayer at the very outset of the church (“liturgical dualism”). As Prof. Todd Johnson says, “Christian prayer didn’t fall out of the sky at Pentecost.”
But why would someone even make such a claim? Schmemann says it “is based on the supposed impossibility of the combination of such a liturgy with the eschatological content of the Eucharist” (68). If eschatology refers only to future events that signal the end of time (not just the “end times” but the actual end of time), then the current cycles of time and indeed history in general are negated in favor of a coming era freed from the constraints of time. Thus, any prayer pattern that relies upon time (morning, evening, weeks, etc.) would be sanctifying a part of nature that will one day pass away, and could not be connected to an “eschatological” act such as the Eucharist. Many liturgical theologians simply assume that the eschatology of the early churches denies any daily prayer cycles, turning a blind eye to the evidence of an organic evolution out of the Jewish cult of prayer. Schmemann says this is a mistake drawn from a misunderstanding of eschatology and the “sanctification of time” (69).
“Eschatology does not signify a renunciation of time as something corrupt, nor a victory over time, nor an exit out of it.” In the Hebrew understanding, time is a process directed “not toward that which would render it meaningless but toward its consummation in a final event revealing its whole meaning.” The eschaton is not the end but the fulfillment of all history. Everything moves in this direction, but to be fulfilled, not erased or ended. Thus God is a God of history, of incarnation, of action in time. God sanctifies time. And all the liturgical acts of time have “an ‘eschatological’ significance, as reminders of the ultimate and great ‘Day of the Lord’ which is coming in time” (70, emphasis added in last quotation).
And so when Jesus came, his message was that the Kingdom was “at hand.” “The Messiah has come, that event has been accomplished toward which the whole history of Israel…was directed.” The eschatological orientation of the early church could not have referred to expected future events or to some “end times,” because for them, eschatological fulfillment had already been accomplished in Christ! And so Christians differ from Jews in that Jewish eschatology is still “directed toward the coming of the Messiah,” but for us, this has already happened. Christianity is not unique from Judaism in its conception of time, but rather because it believes the Jewish “center” of time – the coming of the Messiah – has already happened. The Christ event is “eschatological” – “since in it is revealed the ultimate meaning of all things – creation, history, salvation.” So eschatology is “not something which is coming in the future, but that One who has already come!” (71, emphasis added). Eschatology simply means fulfillment of God’s plans for and in history – it does not mean timelessness nor future events or “the end.”
Obviously, we are still existing in time – the advent of the Day of the Lord did not abolish time nor render it absurd. Schmemann in fact claims that “the whole meaning, the whole point and uniqueness of early Christian eschatology is just this, that in the coming of the Messiah and the ‘drawing near’ of the messianic Kingdom…time becomes truly real, acquires a new and special intensity. It becomes the time of the Church: the time in which the salvation given by the Messiah is now accomplished” (71-72, emphasis added).
The messianic Kingdom, the new aeon, becomes real in the assembly of the Church. When the church gathers that is the reality of the Kingdom (it is not subordinate to the Kingdom as per Grenz). Further, because the gathering centers around the Eucharist, “the Eucharist is the manifestation of the Church as the new aeon”– the presence of Christ in the Eucharist is the parousia, and the Church participates through it in Christ’s heavenly glory. Eucharist is not a repetition of Christ’s death or incarnation but rather the evidence of the reality of the Kingdom among the Church, of the entrance of the new age into this world (72).
There is a temporal dualism because from the world’s perspective, the Kingdom is still in the future. But in the Eucharist, the new aeon is actualized within our current age, just as in Christ, the Kingdom has entered this world and continues to exist in the world as the Church. Rather than thinking of the New Age as “already but not yet,” as is typically Evangelical, I interpret Schmemann to speak in terms of “now, but later more.” In other words, the Kingdom is already here and there is nothing that is not accomplished. Later, everyone will see and understand this (note, however, that this is my terminology, not Schmemann’s).
The Eucharist does not renounce the world – we don’t go to church to flee the world – but rather affirms the presence of the Kingdom and Christians partake in its reality. The eschatology of the Eucharist is “above all the affirmation of the reality, the certainty and the presence of the Kingdom of Christ…which is already here within the Church, but which will be manifest in all glory at the end of this world” (now and later more) (73, emphasis added).
“The Church is set in the world in order to save it by her eschatological fullness” (74). It is not salvation from the world. “The early Church could not have been ‘world renouncing’ as a whole, because the Church has been set on a mission to ‘proclaim the Lord’s death and confess His resurrection,’ to which the Eucharist bears witness. The sacrament consecrates Christians to the mission within time, but it is actualized in the parousia, outside of time” (quoting Prof Tibb's notes on this reading). The Sacrament is the manifestation of the new aeon, the new life, the parousia, in our era. The Eucharist is not of time but is performed within time and fills it with new meaning. Thus the liturgy of time was preserved by necessity – without it, the Eucharist would not have meaning nor sanctifying power for the world. The new cult, as eschatological, “required for its real fulfillment inclusion the rhythm of time,” and in this it affirmed the reality of the world (74-75).
Next Section: The Lord’s Day and the Sabbath
Christians have mistakenly substituted the Lord’s Day for the Sabbath, turning the seventh day into “a kind of ‘prototype’ of the Christian day of rest” (75). But this was not so in the early Church. “The Sabbath was to commemorate the rest of the Seventh day. It commemorates the natural life of the world in the cycles of time...it commemorates creation” (Tibbs). It also acknowledged the sickness of a world in rebellion against God.
The idea of the Day of the Lord arose as an “overcoming” of the week, as stepping outside its boundaries: thus it became known as the “Eighth Day.” “The week and its final unit – the Sabbath – appear as signs of this fallen world, of the old aeon, of that which must be overcome with the advent of the Lord’s Day. The Eighth Day is the day beyond the limits of the cycle outlined by the week…this is the first day of the New Aeon” (77). Thus the Eighth Day was not associated at all with Sabbath by the Hebrew apocalypticists who invented the term. It was not about rest – it was about salvation. The Eighth Day is “the beginning of the world which has been saved and restored” (78). Our equating of the Sabbath and its directives with Sunday is contrary to the original meaning of the Day of the Lord.
Schmemann goes on to help us understand the work of God in Christ through the lens of sanctified time. First we recall that “Christ rose not on the Sabbath but on the first day of the week” (78) – he rested in the tomb on the Sabbath, completing “His task within the limits of the ‘old aeon.’ But the new life…began on the first day of the week. This was the first day, the beginning of the risen life.” The Christians adopted the Hebrew term “Eighth Day” to signify not only the conclusion of the history of salvation, but also the beginning of the New Aeon (up to and including the time of Basil – 4th c. – it was called the Eighth Day).
And this day became the day of the Eucharist for the early Church – an established, fixed day, revealing “a connection with and [setting] in the framework of time.” But at the same time, because the Eighth Day is associated with fulfillment and the New Age, setting it as the day of Eucharist “emphasizes the eschatological nature of the Eucharist” (79). Again, we see the manifestation of the New Age through the Sacrament.
“The eschatology of the new Christian cult does not mean the renunciation of time” – if it did, they would not have fixed a day for Eucharist. “A fixed day denies the suggestion that early Christianity was a world-renouncing cult – otherwise the Eucharist could have been celebrated any time, but it was the Sacrament of the Lord’s Day,” the Eighth Day. “The Church is not of this world, but it is present in the world for its salvation. So also the Lord’s Day, and the Sacrament of Eucharist, are outside of time, but joined with time” – “the time of the Church, the time of salvation” – “so that time itself is sanctified.” (80 and Tibbs)
Alexander Schmemann, Introduction to Liturgical Theology
(p 68-80)
Background: Schmemann has explained that previous scholars have asserted that the “liturgy of time” (that is, recognition of special times for worship and prayer) arose only in the monastic era (fourth century). He says they are missing a huge connection from Jewish to Christian prayer at the very outset of the church (“liturgical dualism”). As Prof. Todd Johnson says, “Christian prayer didn’t fall out of the sky at Pentecost.”
But why would someone even make such a claim? Schmemann says it “is based on the supposed impossibility of the combination of such a liturgy with the eschatological content of the Eucharist” (68). If eschatology refers only to future events that signal the end of time (not just the “end times” but the actual end of time), then the current cycles of time and indeed history in general are negated in favor of a coming era freed from the constraints of time. Thus, any prayer pattern that relies upon time (morning, evening, weeks, etc.) would be sanctifying a part of nature that will one day pass away, and could not be connected to an “eschatological” act such as the Eucharist. Many liturgical theologians simply assume that the eschatology of the early churches denies any daily prayer cycles, turning a blind eye to the evidence of an organic evolution out of the Jewish cult of prayer. Schmemann says this is a mistake drawn from a misunderstanding of eschatology and the “sanctification of time” (69).
“Eschatology does not signify a renunciation of time as something corrupt, nor a victory over time, nor an exit out of it.” In the Hebrew understanding, time is a process directed “not toward that which would render it meaningless but toward its consummation in a final event revealing its whole meaning.” The eschaton is not the end but the fulfillment of all history. Everything moves in this direction, but to be fulfilled, not erased or ended. Thus God is a God of history, of incarnation, of action in time. God sanctifies time. And all the liturgical acts of time have “an ‘eschatological’ significance, as reminders of the ultimate and great ‘Day of the Lord’ which is coming in time” (70, emphasis added in last quotation).
And so when Jesus came, his message was that the Kingdom was “at hand.” “The Messiah has come, that event has been accomplished toward which the whole history of Israel…was directed.” The eschatological orientation of the early church could not have referred to expected future events or to some “end times,” because for them, eschatological fulfillment had already been accomplished in Christ! And so Christians differ from Jews in that Jewish eschatology is still “directed toward the coming of the Messiah,” but for us, this has already happened. Christianity is not unique from Judaism in its conception of time, but rather because it believes the Jewish “center” of time – the coming of the Messiah – has already happened. The Christ event is “eschatological” – “since in it is revealed the ultimate meaning of all things – creation, history, salvation.” So eschatology is “not something which is coming in the future, but that One who has already come!” (71, emphasis added). Eschatology simply means fulfillment of God’s plans for and in history – it does not mean timelessness nor future events or “the end.”
Obviously, we are still existing in time – the advent of the Day of the Lord did not abolish time nor render it absurd. Schmemann in fact claims that “the whole meaning, the whole point and uniqueness of early Christian eschatology is just this, that in the coming of the Messiah and the ‘drawing near’ of the messianic Kingdom…time becomes truly real, acquires a new and special intensity. It becomes the time of the Church: the time in which the salvation given by the Messiah is now accomplished” (71-72, emphasis added).
The messianic Kingdom, the new aeon, becomes real in the assembly of the Church. When the church gathers that is the reality of the Kingdom (it is not subordinate to the Kingdom as per Grenz). Further, because the gathering centers around the Eucharist, “the Eucharist is the manifestation of the Church as the new aeon”– the presence of Christ in the Eucharist is the parousia, and the Church participates through it in Christ’s heavenly glory. Eucharist is not a repetition of Christ’s death or incarnation but rather the evidence of the reality of the Kingdom among the Church, of the entrance of the new age into this world (72).
There is a temporal dualism because from the world’s perspective, the Kingdom is still in the future. But in the Eucharist, the new aeon is actualized within our current age, just as in Christ, the Kingdom has entered this world and continues to exist in the world as the Church. Rather than thinking of the New Age as “already but not yet,” as is typically Evangelical, I interpret Schmemann to speak in terms of “now, but later more.” In other words, the Kingdom is already here and there is nothing that is not accomplished. Later, everyone will see and understand this (note, however, that this is my terminology, not Schmemann’s).
The Eucharist does not renounce the world – we don’t go to church to flee the world – but rather affirms the presence of the Kingdom and Christians partake in its reality. The eschatology of the Eucharist is “above all the affirmation of the reality, the certainty and the presence of the Kingdom of Christ…which is already here within the Church, but which will be manifest in all glory at the end of this world” (now and later more) (73, emphasis added).
“The Church is set in the world in order to save it by her eschatological fullness” (74). It is not salvation from the world. “The early Church could not have been ‘world renouncing’ as a whole, because the Church has been set on a mission to ‘proclaim the Lord’s death and confess His resurrection,’ to which the Eucharist bears witness. The sacrament consecrates Christians to the mission within time, but it is actualized in the parousia, outside of time” (quoting Prof Tibb's notes on this reading). The Sacrament is the manifestation of the new aeon, the new life, the parousia, in our era. The Eucharist is not of time but is performed within time and fills it with new meaning. Thus the liturgy of time was preserved by necessity – without it, the Eucharist would not have meaning nor sanctifying power for the world. The new cult, as eschatological, “required for its real fulfillment inclusion the rhythm of time,” and in this it affirmed the reality of the world (74-75).
Next Section: The Lord’s Day and the Sabbath
Christians have mistakenly substituted the Lord’s Day for the Sabbath, turning the seventh day into “a kind of ‘prototype’ of the Christian day of rest” (75). But this was not so in the early Church. “The Sabbath was to commemorate the rest of the Seventh day. It commemorates the natural life of the world in the cycles of time...it commemorates creation” (Tibbs). It also acknowledged the sickness of a world in rebellion against God.
The idea of the Day of the Lord arose as an “overcoming” of the week, as stepping outside its boundaries: thus it became known as the “Eighth Day.” “The week and its final unit – the Sabbath – appear as signs of this fallen world, of the old aeon, of that which must be overcome with the advent of the Lord’s Day. The Eighth Day is the day beyond the limits of the cycle outlined by the week…this is the first day of the New Aeon” (77). Thus the Eighth Day was not associated at all with Sabbath by the Hebrew apocalypticists who invented the term. It was not about rest – it was about salvation. The Eighth Day is “the beginning of the world which has been saved and restored” (78). Our equating of the Sabbath and its directives with Sunday is contrary to the original meaning of the Day of the Lord.
Schmemann goes on to help us understand the work of God in Christ through the lens of sanctified time. First we recall that “Christ rose not on the Sabbath but on the first day of the week” (78) – he rested in the tomb on the Sabbath, completing “His task within the limits of the ‘old aeon.’ But the new life…began on the first day of the week. This was the first day, the beginning of the risen life.” The Christians adopted the Hebrew term “Eighth Day” to signify not only the conclusion of the history of salvation, but also the beginning of the New Aeon (up to and including the time of Basil – 4th c. – it was called the Eighth Day).
And this day became the day of the Eucharist for the early Church – an established, fixed day, revealing “a connection with and [setting] in the framework of time.” But at the same time, because the Eighth Day is associated with fulfillment and the New Age, setting it as the day of Eucharist “emphasizes the eschatological nature of the Eucharist” (79). Again, we see the manifestation of the New Age through the Sacrament.
“The eschatology of the new Christian cult does not mean the renunciation of time” – if it did, they would not have fixed a day for Eucharist. “A fixed day denies the suggestion that early Christianity was a world-renouncing cult – otherwise the Eucharist could have been celebrated any time, but it was the Sacrament of the Lord’s Day,” the Eighth Day. “The Church is not of this world, but it is present in the world for its salvation. So also the Lord’s Day, and the Sacrament of Eucharist, are outside of time, but joined with time” – “the time of the Church, the time of salvation” – “so that time itself is sanctified.” (80 and Tibbs)
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Feelin' Groovy
Much to your surprise, possibly, I'm feeling aw-right today. I've got a hell of a life right now. Not much expected of me at all. And that suits me really fine. There are things I should be working on, but somehow it all seems less important than...well...resting.
J and I are having these awesome prayer times together, and we're reading For the Life of the World by Schmemann (it's all about food as a metaphor for humanity's relationship with God throughout history) and several sermons by Augustine. That man can preach. He had his faults, and he thought I was the root of all evil, but he does say some wonderful things about "singing our lives."
Anyway, one of these days I must get working on these potentially-publishable papers. And next week I start organizing the national Interfaith Council conference for USC. And I have a couple papers and a final for Systematics. But it's all extremely manageable. Oh, and one of these days I've GOT to make a movie out of our footage from cota. It's too good to waste. Wish I were a real editor.
I'm extremely happy because we had cancelled our 4th of July trip to Vegas, and when that day actually came, we were both totally depressed. We missed out on our vacation and it brought us both down more than we expected - I guess we were just really looking forward to going away together. J spent the day trying to convince me to jump in the car and go. Which would have been a great story to tell. But the money situation prevented it.
However, we've now determined that money's not worth never having any fun. And we needed stuff to do with his folks when they're here. So we're going again! Not over the 4th, of course, but we booked a couple rooms at Rio for end of the month. We'll eat at lots of buffets and we plan to go see "Xtreme Magic" (I kid you not). I can't think about Xtreme Magic without hearing the Gob theme music in my head. Let's see who gets that reference first.
Anyway, I have to shower (note to friends: if you switch to natural deodorant, prepare to be stinky) and get ready to have dinner with a dear friend tonight at the sweet new bistro in town. I couldn't be happier about it. I love walking to my wine shop for a bottle then over to the cafe. Last night we walked up to the library and got a bunch of movies (including Ken Burns' docu on Shakers which was really interesting). We've pretty much been walking every day, either to the video store or the farmer's market or the library or wherever. What a great little town we live in. The daily walk to someplace (or noplace) is a very important part of The Good Life.
So are organic foods and meat from happy cows.
I leave you with this amazing post about adoption. Thanks to this guy for summing up how I feel. I couldn't have written it better. And it's just exactly true.
J and I are having these awesome prayer times together, and we're reading For the Life of the World by Schmemann (it's all about food as a metaphor for humanity's relationship with God throughout history) and several sermons by Augustine. That man can preach. He had his faults, and he thought I was the root of all evil, but he does say some wonderful things about "singing our lives."
Anyway, one of these days I must get working on these potentially-publishable papers. And next week I start organizing the national Interfaith Council conference for USC. And I have a couple papers and a final for Systematics. But it's all extremely manageable. Oh, and one of these days I've GOT to make a movie out of our footage from cota. It's too good to waste. Wish I were a real editor.
I'm extremely happy because we had cancelled our 4th of July trip to Vegas, and when that day actually came, we were both totally depressed. We missed out on our vacation and it brought us both down more than we expected - I guess we were just really looking forward to going away together. J spent the day trying to convince me to jump in the car and go. Which would have been a great story to tell. But the money situation prevented it.
However, we've now determined that money's not worth never having any fun. And we needed stuff to do with his folks when they're here. So we're going again! Not over the 4th, of course, but we booked a couple rooms at Rio for end of the month. We'll eat at lots of buffets and we plan to go see "Xtreme Magic" (I kid you not). I can't think about Xtreme Magic without hearing the Gob theme music in my head. Let's see who gets that reference first.
Anyway, I have to shower (note to friends: if you switch to natural deodorant, prepare to be stinky) and get ready to have dinner with a dear friend tonight at the sweet new bistro in town. I couldn't be happier about it. I love walking to my wine shop for a bottle then over to the cafe. Last night we walked up to the library and got a bunch of movies (including Ken Burns' docu on Shakers which was really interesting). We've pretty much been walking every day, either to the video store or the farmer's market or the library or wherever. What a great little town we live in. The daily walk to someplace (or noplace) is a very important part of The Good Life.
So are organic foods and meat from happy cows.
I leave you with this amazing post about adoption. Thanks to this guy for summing up how I feel. I couldn't have written it better. And it's just exactly true.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Has the Religious Right Gotten it Wrong?
Renowned Author Dr. Randall Balmer visits my church
Sunday, 16 July at 10:15 AM: Noted lecturer, Columbia University professor and author, Dr. Randall Balmer will discuss his new book, Thy Kingdom Come: How the Religious Right Distorts the Faith and Threatens America. Don’t miss this engaging critique of the Religious Right, written from the perspective of an evangelical believer.
Click here for an NPR piece on Dr. Randall Balmer.
Click here for directions to and more information about the church. The talk will be between the 9:00 and 11:15 services, in the All Saints' chapel next to the main church.
Sunday, 16 July at 10:15 AM: Noted lecturer, Columbia University professor and author, Dr. Randall Balmer will discuss his new book, Thy Kingdom Come: How the Religious Right Distorts the Faith and Threatens America. Don’t miss this engaging critique of the Religious Right, written from the perspective of an evangelical believer.
Click here for an NPR piece on Dr. Randall Balmer.
Click here for directions to and more information about the church. The talk will be between the 9:00 and 11:15 services, in the All Saints' chapel next to the main church.
Greetings from Malawi
No, I'm not there, although I probably should have been. But the team that invited me is there, and I got this report from the leader. It really touched my heart, and I love his art metaphor, so I thought I'd share it with you. My friend's name is Don Thomas.
“Mary and I arrived in Malawi about 6 days and 17 hours ago. The number of old friends we have seen, the village projects we have visited, and the miles we have covered make it seem as if we have been here for several weeks.
If I tried to describe my internal feelings over this week’s time in the way a painter would leave pigments on a canvas, I would find the canvas covered with splashes and splatters of joy. Its spontaneous color would be interspersed with carefully laid down straight lines, orderly and controlled. Weeping blotches and large slashes, angry and ungainly, in the darkest of blacks and cloudy midnight blues would weigh the canvas down.
The canvas would have difficulty in containing the clashing of the euphoric splashings and the dreadful dark slashings all in the same art piece.
The bright-colored splashes and splatters of joy are the smiling and beautiful faces of the abandoned babies now so loved and cared for in the Ministry of Hope Crisis Nursery in Lilongwe. They are the toddlers stretching their arms out to us as they seduce us into holding them at Open Arms Nursery in Blantyre.
The controlled lines---? They are the linear organized part of my brain analyzing and admiring the organizational skills of project leaders like Catherine Mpesi and Rachel Fiedler. It is in awe of the elegant work of Mphatso and Annie and Precious and the village women as they work in community solving impossible problems as they deal with the devastation that the HIV virus has left behind in its death-cluttered path across Malawi.
The heavy blotches and slashes are the painful hopeless thoughts that darken my mind that keep trying to weigh me down. The painful realities of unbearable suffering seems to be everywhere. I see a smiling loveable 3 year old child Edward as he warms to Holly’s attention. Edward is HIV-positive. He lives hours away from the new facility where AIDS medicines have recently been made available for children. The cost of travel is prohibitive for the woman who is caring for him in her home. My heart sinks.
The problem-solving part of my brain tries to find reasonable straight line solutions for Edward’s impossibly sad condition. No solution comes.
I have to go back to a self-protecting defense. I find myself retreating into the joy of playing with the swarm of orphans and vulnerable children that surround me in the eating porch of the Salima AIDS Support Organization.”
A closing thought----
As always, we find ourselves in awe of the courageous and loving people of Malawi.
Their gratitude for the help that they receive is abundant.
Please pray for them.
Love,
Don and Mary
PS: If you want more information or want to help these people, go to www.thegaia.org.
“Mary and I arrived in Malawi about 6 days and 17 hours ago. The number of old friends we have seen, the village projects we have visited, and the miles we have covered make it seem as if we have been here for several weeks.
If I tried to describe my internal feelings over this week’s time in the way a painter would leave pigments on a canvas, I would find the canvas covered with splashes and splatters of joy. Its spontaneous color would be interspersed with carefully laid down straight lines, orderly and controlled. Weeping blotches and large slashes, angry and ungainly, in the darkest of blacks and cloudy midnight blues would weigh the canvas down.
The canvas would have difficulty in containing the clashing of the euphoric splashings and the dreadful dark slashings all in the same art piece.
The bright-colored splashes and splatters of joy are the smiling and beautiful faces of the abandoned babies now so loved and cared for in the Ministry of Hope Crisis Nursery in Lilongwe. They are the toddlers stretching their arms out to us as they seduce us into holding them at Open Arms Nursery in Blantyre.
The controlled lines---? They are the linear organized part of my brain analyzing and admiring the organizational skills of project leaders like Catherine Mpesi and Rachel Fiedler. It is in awe of the elegant work of Mphatso and Annie and Precious and the village women as they work in community solving impossible problems as they deal with the devastation that the HIV virus has left behind in its death-cluttered path across Malawi.
The heavy blotches and slashes are the painful hopeless thoughts that darken my mind that keep trying to weigh me down. The painful realities of unbearable suffering seems to be everywhere. I see a smiling loveable 3 year old child Edward as he warms to Holly’s attention. Edward is HIV-positive. He lives hours away from the new facility where AIDS medicines have recently been made available for children. The cost of travel is prohibitive for the woman who is caring for him in her home. My heart sinks.
The problem-solving part of my brain tries to find reasonable straight line solutions for Edward’s impossibly sad condition. No solution comes.
I have to go back to a self-protecting defense. I find myself retreating into the joy of playing with the swarm of orphans and vulnerable children that surround me in the eating porch of the Salima AIDS Support Organization.”
A closing thought----
As always, we find ourselves in awe of the courageous and loving people of Malawi.
Their gratitude for the help that they receive is abundant.
Please pray for them.
Love,
Don and Mary
PS: If you want more information or want to help these people, go to www.thegaia.org.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Yo ho yo ho
So it's finally Pirates day! Yay! We're off in a couple hours to see the film.
Dad's surgery went remarkably well...they actually didn't really find any plaque, and said that his other test was a false positive. Which means there's basically nothing wrong with his heart. But also it means his little incidents were probably stress-related, and he's gotta cut back on the stress. Although it's certainly understandable...not too many people would take well what he's gone through in the last year, what with turning 60, getting booted out of your 30-year career, finding a new job, buying a new house, getting cut off from many friends, etc. etc.
Anyway, I was telling a friend about how a couple British friends of mine think it's pretty silly that we celebrate our independence day here in the most powerful nation in the world. Now granted, they could still be bitter about our independence being from them, but I still found it compelling to think about. Why do we throw a big party to celebrate something that is, by this point, quite obviously a done deal? I get that it's appropriate the recall the sacrifice of others and what our nation went through (refusing to pay taxes) to be born. But I don't know, some of it feels like overkill. It can get a little strutty. And I'm sure that doesn't help our image.
Well at any rate, said friend got quite incensed at the nerve of those Brits, and sent me this quote from Thomas Jefferson (original, with a cool pic of the letter it comes from, is here):
"All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God. These are grounds of hope for others. For ourselves, let the annual return of this day [Independence Day] forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them," - Thomas Jefferson, June 24, 1826, in the last significant letter he wrote (he died on July 4, 1826).
I hate to be the grad-school feminist bitch reading too much into everything, but I simply have to point out a few things.
1. He uses "man" and "mankind" to refer to, I assume, women. Okay, it was the parlance of his day. It still doesn't make me feel included - although I guess that's appropriate, since women didn't have the rights he's so eloquently espousing! So maybe he's not referring to women after all. At any rate, why should I celebrate the rights of men, which they pretty much always had anyway?
2. He talks about the "light of science," which by this point in history we know led to many terrible things (atomic bomb etc) - possibly did more harm than good, especially for our souls. I realize he was ensconced in modernism, but in our era, we don't just swallow that sort of language without a fight. Science hasn't necessarily made us richer human beings, although of course it has improved our lives. I'm not saying let's go back to the dark ages, but I just wish we hadn't lost our spirituality when we bowed before Almighty Science. We're getting it back now, and perhaps it was a necessary period for our growth as a species. But what we've done to the planet, to one another, to ourselves...it's not something to just celebrate.
3. Finally, I wonder how his slaves felt about his bold declarations of not saddling up on someone else's back. Seems like in his time, the "favored few" were still quite booted and spurred. From one of the more notorious slave-girl predators, this is rather a disgusting claim to make.
So that's my rant for today. I guess it was the wrong quote to throw at me. You can have at me if you want, but you know I'm right. :) Seriously, I just can't read anything without reading more into it...stupid grad school.
Dad's surgery went remarkably well...they actually didn't really find any plaque, and said that his other test was a false positive. Which means there's basically nothing wrong with his heart. But also it means his little incidents were probably stress-related, and he's gotta cut back on the stress. Although it's certainly understandable...not too many people would take well what he's gone through in the last year, what with turning 60, getting booted out of your 30-year career, finding a new job, buying a new house, getting cut off from many friends, etc. etc.
Anyway, I was telling a friend about how a couple British friends of mine think it's pretty silly that we celebrate our independence day here in the most powerful nation in the world. Now granted, they could still be bitter about our independence being from them, but I still found it compelling to think about. Why do we throw a big party to celebrate something that is, by this point, quite obviously a done deal? I get that it's appropriate the recall the sacrifice of others and what our nation went through (refusing to pay taxes) to be born. But I don't know, some of it feels like overkill. It can get a little strutty. And I'm sure that doesn't help our image.
Well at any rate, said friend got quite incensed at the nerve of those Brits, and sent me this quote from Thomas Jefferson (original, with a cool pic of the letter it comes from, is here):
"All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God. These are grounds of hope for others. For ourselves, let the annual return of this day [Independence Day] forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them," - Thomas Jefferson, June 24, 1826, in the last significant letter he wrote (he died on July 4, 1826).
I hate to be the grad-school feminist bitch reading too much into everything, but I simply have to point out a few things.
1. He uses "man" and "mankind" to refer to, I assume, women. Okay, it was the parlance of his day. It still doesn't make me feel included - although I guess that's appropriate, since women didn't have the rights he's so eloquently espousing! So maybe he's not referring to women after all. At any rate, why should I celebrate the rights of men, which they pretty much always had anyway?
2. He talks about the "light of science," which by this point in history we know led to many terrible things (atomic bomb etc) - possibly did more harm than good, especially for our souls. I realize he was ensconced in modernism, but in our era, we don't just swallow that sort of language without a fight. Science hasn't necessarily made us richer human beings, although of course it has improved our lives. I'm not saying let's go back to the dark ages, but I just wish we hadn't lost our spirituality when we bowed before Almighty Science. We're getting it back now, and perhaps it was a necessary period for our growth as a species. But what we've done to the planet, to one another, to ourselves...it's not something to just celebrate.
3. Finally, I wonder how his slaves felt about his bold declarations of not saddling up on someone else's back. Seems like in his time, the "favored few" were still quite booted and spurred. From one of the more notorious slave-girl predators, this is rather a disgusting claim to make.
So that's my rant for today. I guess it was the wrong quote to throw at me. You can have at me if you want, but you know I'm right. :) Seriously, I just can't read anything without reading more into it...stupid grad school.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Great things to hear
I've had some nice comments lately. But I'll tell you, one of the best things you can ever hear from your mother is: "I have absolutely no stake in whether you ever have children or not. That is way too personal a decision for me to stick my nose into." Wow. How about that? If only my mother-in-law had the same attitude...
Mom also told me my writing was so great and I should be a writer blah blah blah. But that's one of the more annoying things to hear because you don't know what to do with such a comment. Of course I'd love to write, ma. I have no idea how. I don't know how you actually go about getting someone to read, let alone publish, your musings. It just seems like this totally out-there proposition. But it would be a fun way to earn that money we need.
Dad's having his heart catheter put in tomorrow. A great thing to hear would be that it's all good. And his cholesterol is down. But judging from the way he was still eating when I visited (and my utter lack of success trying to get him hooked on a glass of wine a day), I doubt it.
I'm feeling rather chipper because I finished a presentation I'm doing on Alexander Schmemann, Russian Orthodox Liturgical Theologian Extraordinaire. I've spent the last couple days immersed in his theories about eschatology and liturgy of time, which are so way different from anything I'm used to. But extremely compelling. Perhaps I'll post the presentation here - it's extremely dense (and officially boring, says J), but it could intrigue a few of you out there.
Meantime, for the rest of us, my friend wrote a joke issue of her church newsletter, so I will now share with you some pretty damn funny Episcopalian jokes. Thanks to Lauren Azeltine's sharp wit!
First the obligatory "Kids say the darndest things" section:
Q. Why did God make mothers?
A. Mostly to clean the house.
Q. What ingredients are mothers made of?
A. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
Q. Why did your mom marry your Dad?
A. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my mom eats a lot.
Q. What did your mom need to know about your dad before she married him?
A. His last name.
Q. Who's the boss at your house?
A. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because Dad's such a goofball.
And now the obligatory "You know you're an Episocopalian if..." section:
...when you watch Star Wars and they say, "May the Force be with you," you automatically reply "And also with you."
...if you have totally memorized Rite I, Rite II, and the first three episodes of The Vicar of Dibley
...if you can rattle off such tongue twisters as: "...who made there by his one oblation of himself once offered a full and perfect sacrifice, oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the world" and "Wherefore, O Lord and Heavenly Father, we thy people, do celebrate and make here, with these gifts which we offer unto thee, the memorial thy Son hath commanded us to make..."
...if you catch yourself bowing or genuflecting as you enter a row of seats in a theater.
...if you can pronounce "innumerable benefits procured to us by the same."
...if the word "Sewanee" puts a lump in your throat (I don't get this one so I guess I'm not fully assimilated!)
...if you ever find yourself saying, "Oh, but we've never done it that way before."
...if your covered dish for the potluck dinner is escargot in puff shells.
...if you know that a sursum corda is not a surgical procedure.
...if you don't think Agnus Dei is a woman.
...if your picnic basket has sterling knives and forks (entree, fish, salad, and cake)...and you think the most serious breach of propriety one can commit is failure to chill the salad forks.
...if you know that the nave is not a playing card.
...if your friend said, "I'm truly sorry," and you replied, "and you humbly repent?"
...if you know that the Senior and Junior Wardens are not positions in the local prison.
Finally, the always obligatory lightbulb jokes:
How many Episcopalians does it take to change a light bulb?
Change?!? What do you mean, "change?" My mother donated that light bulb!
None. The old one is complete and sufficient unto itself, and should not be changed according to the world's whims.
Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks, and one to talk about how much better the old one was.
Four. One to change the bulb, one to bless the elements, one to pour the sherry, and one to offer a toast to the old light bulb.
Six. One to change the bulb, and five to form a society to preserve the memory of the old light bulb.
Eight. One to call the electrician, and seven to say how much they liked the old electrician and the old light bulb better.
Ten. One to do the work and nine to serve on the committee.
Several dozen. They form a committee that meets weekly to discuss the project and, if unusually expeditious, within 18 months will have remanded the project to the building and grounds committee.
300. A sexton to change the bulb. The rector, assistant rector, deacon, and seminarian to lead the ceremony blessing the new bulb. The church secretary to make up the special bulletin insert with the bulb-blessing ceremony, including congregational responses: "Do you, the people of St. Swithin's, promise to support this bulb in its work on behalf of the church?" "We do!" The choirmaster/organist to write and arrange a special Blessing of the Bulb Anthem: "Phos 100-Watt GE Soft White" and 12 choir members to sing it. An acolyte and two torch-bearers to sit around looking bored and making faces at each other. And 278 people in the pews thinking, "Is this service EVER going to end?"
Following the service, six people will form a Society for the Preservation of the Light Bulb, and two of those people will leave the parish and try to find someone who will let them use the Real Light Bulb of their forefathers.
The entire General Convention. One to move that the bulb be changed and the rest to debate until the room spins.
Goooooood-nite
Mom also told me my writing was so great and I should be a writer blah blah blah. But that's one of the more annoying things to hear because you don't know what to do with such a comment. Of course I'd love to write, ma. I have no idea how. I don't know how you actually go about getting someone to read, let alone publish, your musings. It just seems like this totally out-there proposition. But it would be a fun way to earn that money we need.
Dad's having his heart catheter put in tomorrow. A great thing to hear would be that it's all good. And his cholesterol is down. But judging from the way he was still eating when I visited (and my utter lack of success trying to get him hooked on a glass of wine a day), I doubt it.
I'm feeling rather chipper because I finished a presentation I'm doing on Alexander Schmemann, Russian Orthodox Liturgical Theologian Extraordinaire. I've spent the last couple days immersed in his theories about eschatology and liturgy of time, which are so way different from anything I'm used to. But extremely compelling. Perhaps I'll post the presentation here - it's extremely dense (and officially boring, says J), but it could intrigue a few of you out there.
Meantime, for the rest of us, my friend wrote a joke issue of her church newsletter, so I will now share with you some pretty damn funny Episcopalian jokes. Thanks to Lauren Azeltine's sharp wit!
First the obligatory "Kids say the darndest things" section:
Q. Why did God make mothers?
A. Mostly to clean the house.
Q. What ingredients are mothers made of?
A. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
Q. Why did your mom marry your Dad?
A. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my mom eats a lot.
Q. What did your mom need to know about your dad before she married him?
A. His last name.
Q. Who's the boss at your house?
A. Mom doesn't want to be boss, but she has to because Dad's such a goofball.
And now the obligatory "You know you're an Episocopalian if..." section:
...when you watch Star Wars and they say, "May the Force be with you," you automatically reply "And also with you."
...if you have totally memorized Rite I, Rite II, and the first three episodes of The Vicar of Dibley
...if you can rattle off such tongue twisters as: "...who made there by his one oblation of himself once offered a full and perfect sacrifice, oblation and satisfaction for the sins of the world" and "Wherefore, O Lord and Heavenly Father, we thy people, do celebrate and make here, with these gifts which we offer unto thee, the memorial thy Son hath commanded us to make..."
...if you catch yourself bowing or genuflecting as you enter a row of seats in a theater.
...if you can pronounce "innumerable benefits procured to us by the same."
...if the word "Sewanee" puts a lump in your throat (I don't get this one so I guess I'm not fully assimilated!)
...if you ever find yourself saying, "Oh, but we've never done it that way before."
...if your covered dish for the potluck dinner is escargot in puff shells.
...if you know that a sursum corda is not a surgical procedure.
...if you don't think Agnus Dei is a woman.
...if your picnic basket has sterling knives and forks (entree, fish, salad, and cake)...and you think the most serious breach of propriety one can commit is failure to chill the salad forks.
...if you know that the nave is not a playing card.
...if your friend said, "I'm truly sorry," and you replied, "and you humbly repent?"
...if you know that the Senior and Junior Wardens are not positions in the local prison.
Finally, the always obligatory lightbulb jokes:
How many Episcopalians does it take to change a light bulb?
Change?!? What do you mean, "change?" My mother donated that light bulb!
None. The old one is complete and sufficient unto itself, and should not be changed according to the world's whims.
Three. One to call the electrician, one to mix the drinks, and one to talk about how much better the old one was.
Four. One to change the bulb, one to bless the elements, one to pour the sherry, and one to offer a toast to the old light bulb.
Six. One to change the bulb, and five to form a society to preserve the memory of the old light bulb.
Eight. One to call the electrician, and seven to say how much they liked the old electrician and the old light bulb better.
Ten. One to do the work and nine to serve on the committee.
Several dozen. They form a committee that meets weekly to discuss the project and, if unusually expeditious, within 18 months will have remanded the project to the building and grounds committee.
300. A sexton to change the bulb. The rector, assistant rector, deacon, and seminarian to lead the ceremony blessing the new bulb. The church secretary to make up the special bulletin insert with the bulb-blessing ceremony, including congregational responses: "Do you, the people of St. Swithin's, promise to support this bulb in its work on behalf of the church?" "We do!" The choirmaster/organist to write and arrange a special Blessing of the Bulb Anthem: "Phos 100-Watt GE Soft White" and 12 choir members to sing it. An acolyte and two torch-bearers to sit around looking bored and making faces at each other. And 278 people in the pews thinking, "Is this service EVER going to end?"
Following the service, six people will form a Society for the Preservation of the Light Bulb, and two of those people will leave the parish and try to find someone who will let them use the Real Light Bulb of their forefathers.
The entire General Convention. One to move that the bulb be changed and the rest to debate until the room spins.
Goooooood-nite
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Recommended Reading
Here's an article by me ol' boss, Diane Winston, about whether or not one particular group of people know how to handle the election of a woman to the presiding bishop's throne...and it's probably not the group you think...
Friday, June 30, 2006
Maybe life can be fair after all...
Despite what my mother always told me.
I'm very excited to have just learned about Pasadena's Ten Thousand Villages store. They are a non-profit offering fairly-traded goods from around the world. It's the first in the LA area, and I know my school's been a big support to the group. In fact, we are hosting a benefit concert for the store on July 11. Here are details as sent to me by alert reader Bob Carlton:
David Wilcox will be in Pasadena on July 11. The show is in partial benefit to a new, non-profit 10,000 Villages store location in Pasadena, featuring Fair Trade Goods from around the world. Layne Longfellow will be joining David and Nance on this performance.
This show is structured around the piece that David & wife Nance did called OUT BEYOND IDEAS. The album sets to music poems from many traditions, including poems of Christian Saint Francis of Assisi, and St John of the Cross , Sufi Mystics Jalaludin Rumi and Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz, Rabia of Basra and poems from Jewish Mystical Poets Judiah HaLevi and Solomon ibn Gabriol, Uvavnuk, an Netsilik Inuit, Tukarum from India, and the Zen poets Dogen Kigen and Wu-men Hui-K'ai.
Wow, sounds super cool. If you're not in Pasadena, see if there's a store near you - or just shop via the miracle of the internet. I for one am thrilled that there's a place I can go for gifts, coffee and my chocolate - knowing it's benefiting those who actually produced it!
I'm very excited to have just learned about Pasadena's Ten Thousand Villages store. They are a non-profit offering fairly-traded goods from around the world. It's the first in the LA area, and I know my school's been a big support to the group. In fact, we are hosting a benefit concert for the store on July 11. Here are details as sent to me by alert reader Bob Carlton:
David Wilcox will be in Pasadena on July 11. The show is in partial benefit to a new, non-profit 10,000 Villages store location in Pasadena, featuring Fair Trade Goods from around the world. Layne Longfellow will be joining David and Nance on this performance.
This show is structured around the piece that David & wife Nance did called OUT BEYOND IDEAS. The album sets to music poems from many traditions, including poems of Christian Saint Francis of Assisi, and St John of the Cross , Sufi Mystics Jalaludin Rumi and Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz, Rabia of Basra and poems from Jewish Mystical Poets Judiah HaLevi and Solomon ibn Gabriol, Uvavnuk, an Netsilik Inuit, Tukarum from India, and the Zen poets Dogen Kigen and Wu-men Hui-K'ai.
Wow, sounds super cool. If you're not in Pasadena, see if there's a store near you - or just shop via the miracle of the internet. I for one am thrilled that there's a place I can go for gifts, coffee and my chocolate - knowing it's benefiting those who actually produced it!
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Musings on the Future
I'm in this really weird place right now. It's like I have to figure out the rest of my life (I know, most people do this in college or in their 20s - well I wasted both those eras goofing off). And I don't know what I want to do. How can I see that far ahead?
So I have this ordination process to start. But I also have school. I enjoy the latter a great deal, and lots of people think I should do more school after this. But how does that affect the ordination thing? I have this job at USC, but if I could get an internship then maybe just maybe I could still graduate next summer. But do I even want to do that? Will I be ready this year to figure out what's next? To apply to PhD programs? I don't even know where to go. I think I want to go to Britain but I have to find someone there to study with. It just seems logical to go to the center of Anglican history if I'm to study liturgy. But then I get these wacky ideas that I want to travel the world documenting rituals. Yeah, when my big grant comes through.
Well see the real reason I'm thinking about this is because the whole baby yen has started. I turned 31 two months ago and it was the weirdest thing. It just hit me super hard. And I was never one to want children - most of my friends and family will attest to that. But now I think I do. And I want to adopt and give birth.
So here's my problem. I am 31. I have at least 1, more likely 2 years of school left. While in school, I have the required crap health insurance that doesn't cover any kind of pregnancy stuff. I would so rather wait until I have good health insurance to have a baby - I mean, I want to be able to have whatever I need done and not be stressing the whole time about cost. But I am at least 2 years away from a job (probably an additional 4 on top of that for phd). J is not going on the job market until 2008 (until then he's an adjunct, the temps of the academic world - all the work, none of the benefits). By the time one of us has a real job again, I will be 33-37. And having a kid will be very hard. I mean, it's not the end of the world if we can't have a baby and just adopt instead. I just feel like I'm going to have to have my life much more in order to qualify for adoption!
It's so annoying, this situation I've put myself in. I should have been doing all this life organizing in my 20s. I'm supposed to be stable by now, right?
See, I don't feel like I need to have all my life figured out before I can have a baby. But it would be really nice to at least have steady income. And health insurance. And a house. But that ain't never gonna happen. Still, a room for the child would be nice - in our current setup, baby sleeps in the closet. Though J tells me that having a baby's room is a just a big excuse to buy a bunch of junk you don't need, starting you down the road to turning the poor child into a rampant materialist. Yes, he wants to put our children in potato sacks. Or at the very least, nothing with Elmo on it will ever enter this house.
But we simply have to use bedroom #2 for an office. There's no other place for all these books and the computers. Oh, geez. We've chosen our jobs over children. That sucks. But it doesn't. I love what I'm doing so much. And I never wanted kids before. Maybe this thing will pass.
But I'm so scared that I'm going to put it off too long. I don't think I want to deal with fertility stuff. So I'm really running out of time. And there's so much to do before I feel ready to be a mommy. Bleh. I wish I was still blissfully hating kids.
Anyway, this is a much more personal, diary-like post today, isn't it? Well I'm sorry. Systematic theology hardly provides much excitement. And the rest of my time not studying is spent watching Six Feet Under season 5 right now. Oh, and Cars, which was excellent. Very funny.
Oh, lots of you people are academic types, who I assume have gone through "dry" spells in the ol' financial situation. We're between terms at the moment and won't have income for a couple months. Anyone have an idea how to make some money quick? Or a good way to borrow for a couple months? Normally we're all set for these spells but somehow the savings are a bit more depleted than I'd like. I didn't get enough loan for the summer to even cover my 2 classes (I couldn't even afford a full load!), so I can't live off any student loan money. At the moment we're considering transferring credit card balances to put off paying them for a few months, or pulling out of the retirement savings (J's very against that, and I do see his point), or just paying the stupid credit card fees (we've never carried a balance). I dunno. Anybody in this area who needs a house or dog or cat sitter, I'm all yours and I have excellent references! :)
So I have this ordination process to start. But I also have school. I enjoy the latter a great deal, and lots of people think I should do more school after this. But how does that affect the ordination thing? I have this job at USC, but if I could get an internship then maybe just maybe I could still graduate next summer. But do I even want to do that? Will I be ready this year to figure out what's next? To apply to PhD programs? I don't even know where to go. I think I want to go to Britain but I have to find someone there to study with. It just seems logical to go to the center of Anglican history if I'm to study liturgy. But then I get these wacky ideas that I want to travel the world documenting rituals. Yeah, when my big grant comes through.
Well see the real reason I'm thinking about this is because the whole baby yen has started. I turned 31 two months ago and it was the weirdest thing. It just hit me super hard. And I was never one to want children - most of my friends and family will attest to that. But now I think I do. And I want to adopt and give birth.
So here's my problem. I am 31. I have at least 1, more likely 2 years of school left. While in school, I have the required crap health insurance that doesn't cover any kind of pregnancy stuff. I would so rather wait until I have good health insurance to have a baby - I mean, I want to be able to have whatever I need done and not be stressing the whole time about cost. But I am at least 2 years away from a job (probably an additional 4 on top of that for phd). J is not going on the job market until 2008 (until then he's an adjunct, the temps of the academic world - all the work, none of the benefits). By the time one of us has a real job again, I will be 33-37. And having a kid will be very hard. I mean, it's not the end of the world if we can't have a baby and just adopt instead. I just feel like I'm going to have to have my life much more in order to qualify for adoption!
It's so annoying, this situation I've put myself in. I should have been doing all this life organizing in my 20s. I'm supposed to be stable by now, right?
See, I don't feel like I need to have all my life figured out before I can have a baby. But it would be really nice to at least have steady income. And health insurance. And a house. But that ain't never gonna happen. Still, a room for the child would be nice - in our current setup, baby sleeps in the closet. Though J tells me that having a baby's room is a just a big excuse to buy a bunch of junk you don't need, starting you down the road to turning the poor child into a rampant materialist. Yes, he wants to put our children in potato sacks. Or at the very least, nothing with Elmo on it will ever enter this house.
But we simply have to use bedroom #2 for an office. There's no other place for all these books and the computers. Oh, geez. We've chosen our jobs over children. That sucks. But it doesn't. I love what I'm doing so much. And I never wanted kids before. Maybe this thing will pass.
But I'm so scared that I'm going to put it off too long. I don't think I want to deal with fertility stuff. So I'm really running out of time. And there's so much to do before I feel ready to be a mommy. Bleh. I wish I was still blissfully hating kids.
Anyway, this is a much more personal, diary-like post today, isn't it? Well I'm sorry. Systematic theology hardly provides much excitement. And the rest of my time not studying is spent watching Six Feet Under season 5 right now. Oh, and Cars, which was excellent. Very funny.
Oh, lots of you people are academic types, who I assume have gone through "dry" spells in the ol' financial situation. We're between terms at the moment and won't have income for a couple months. Anyone have an idea how to make some money quick? Or a good way to borrow for a couple months? Normally we're all set for these spells but somehow the savings are a bit more depleted than I'd like. I didn't get enough loan for the summer to even cover my 2 classes (I couldn't even afford a full load!), so I can't live off any student loan money. At the moment we're considering transferring credit card balances to put off paying them for a few months, or pulling out of the retirement savings (J's very against that, and I do see his point), or just paying the stupid credit card fees (we've never carried a balance). I dunno. Anybody in this area who needs a house or dog or cat sitter, I'm all yours and I have excellent references! :)
Friday, June 23, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Words of wisdom
I like it, but I didn't write it.
PEACE IN OUR TIME
Neville Chamberlain was such a handsome man -- tall, elegant and cultured, with a trim mustache, in a time before Adolf Hitler taught us all to recoil from politicians with trim mustaches. He became Prime Minister in 1937, and it was he who famously told the British people that he had secured "peace in our time" as a result of his participation in four-way negotiation with Germany (France and Italy being the other two partners) that produced the Munich Agreement in the autumn of 1938, giving Hitler the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia, with the understanding that this concession would ensure that he would leave the rest of Czechoslovakia alone.
This was in September. By April of the following year, Hitler had seized the rest of Czechoslovakia, and Europe was at war.
Winston Churchill was about as wide as he was tall, with squinty eyes, a permanent scowl and very little hair. His speaking voice was a growl. He had opposed Chamberlain's attempt at appeasing Germany, and would go on to lead the British people through what most people agree was their most painful era. It was he who daily encouraged them to see that it was also "their finest hour."
It would torture this analogy to proceed with it any further -- conservative forces in the Anglican Communion aren't the Nazis, for heaven's sake. But Neville Chamberlain made the same error we are making -- trying to mend one injury by colluding in another. He believed, with some reason, that the Treaty of Versailles that ended the First World War had been unfair to Germany in some respects. He would help balance things out a bit, he thought: Germany would reunite with the German-speaking people of the Sudetenland, their spiritual kin. He would sacrifice them to the German sense of grievance.
But you can't appease a bully. He becomes a bigger bully if you try, having learned from experience that being a bully succeeds.
Anglicans and others in the global south have good reason to resent some of what America and other imperial powers have done in their part of the world. Resources that were theirs seem to have become ours, over the centuries; in the past fifty years, we have witnessed their struggle to take them back. Sometimes we have helped them do it. Sometimes we have resisted.
In African rhetoric, the issue of gay participation in the life of the Church is often couched in terms of resisting American imperialism. But our imperialism and the rights of minorities in other cultures are two separate issues. If we have been heavy-handed in other countries -- and we often have -- it is not fair to use that fact as a reason to persecute gay men, lesbians, bisexual, transgendered people or any other minority, and we do not owe those countries our collusion in such persecution. Gay people are not a substitute for us, and ought not to be our whipping boy. If we owe African and Asian countries something, let us settle up directly. Gay people shouldn't have to pick up that tab.
Nor do we owe American Episcopalians who oppose the inclusion of gay people at all levels in our Church's life conformity with their moral vision -- respect and love, yes, but not conformity. Anglicanism understands moral choice as a struggle rather than a checklist: its role is to provide an arena for the struggle, not to provide a settlement from on high. People who don't want to ordain gay clergy should not do so. People opposed to gay marriage are strongly advised not to wed someone of the same gender. And then we need to leave each other alone.
We almost moved on at General Convention. We are excited about the Millennial Development Goals, about the tremendous increase in our ability and desire to serve the suffering, as evidenced by the huge increase in Episcopal Relief and Development's funds, about the covenant relationships between parishes and dioceses in America and Africa that have sprung up in so many, many places. Episcopalians are excited about being Christians. And we are tired of talking abo ut other peoples' sex lives, for God's sake.
We will still move on, more slowly and with more agony -- Christians have always known that if something new is of God, it will not be stopped. The clear claiming of the blessing -- of all the blessings of all the people of God -- will still come. No matter when it does come, it will still anger those who want that blessing a little narrower, please. Love them and invite them to share in it. Never dismiss another person's conviction, but form your own and be prepared to give an accounting of it. And then let's get back to work.
+ We've got a hurting world out there. Not clear about the Millennial Development Goals and what they mean? Visit http://www.er-d.org/programs_36756_ENG_HTM.htm.
+ Not Episcopalian and not sure what on earth I'm talking about in the above essay? You can read it all at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/gc2006news.htm
Copyright © 2006 Barbara Crafton - http://www.geraniumfarm.org
PEACE IN OUR TIME
Neville Chamberlain was such a handsome man -- tall, elegant and cultured, with a trim mustache, in a time before Adolf Hitler taught us all to recoil from politicians with trim mustaches. He became Prime Minister in 1937, and it was he who famously told the British people that he had secured "peace in our time" as a result of his participation in four-way negotiation with Germany (France and Italy being the other two partners) that produced the Munich Agreement in the autumn of 1938, giving Hitler the Sudetenland in Czechoslovakia, with the understanding that this concession would ensure that he would leave the rest of Czechoslovakia alone.
This was in September. By April of the following year, Hitler had seized the rest of Czechoslovakia, and Europe was at war.
Winston Churchill was about as wide as he was tall, with squinty eyes, a permanent scowl and very little hair. His speaking voice was a growl. He had opposed Chamberlain's attempt at appeasing Germany, and would go on to lead the British people through what most people agree was their most painful era. It was he who daily encouraged them to see that it was also "their finest hour."
It would torture this analogy to proceed with it any further -- conservative forces in the Anglican Communion aren't the Nazis, for heaven's sake. But Neville Chamberlain made the same error we are making -- trying to mend one injury by colluding in another. He believed, with some reason, that the Treaty of Versailles that ended the First World War had been unfair to Germany in some respects. He would help balance things out a bit, he thought: Germany would reunite with the German-speaking people of the Sudetenland, their spiritual kin. He would sacrifice them to the German sense of grievance.
But you can't appease a bully. He becomes a bigger bully if you try, having learned from experience that being a bully succeeds.
Anglicans and others in the global south have good reason to resent some of what America and other imperial powers have done in their part of the world. Resources that were theirs seem to have become ours, over the centuries; in the past fifty years, we have witnessed their struggle to take them back. Sometimes we have helped them do it. Sometimes we have resisted.
In African rhetoric, the issue of gay participation in the life of the Church is often couched in terms of resisting American imperialism. But our imperialism and the rights of minorities in other cultures are two separate issues. If we have been heavy-handed in other countries -- and we often have -- it is not fair to use that fact as a reason to persecute gay men, lesbians, bisexual, transgendered people or any other minority, and we do not owe those countries our collusion in such persecution. Gay people are not a substitute for us, and ought not to be our whipping boy. If we owe African and Asian countries something, let us settle up directly. Gay people shouldn't have to pick up that tab.
Nor do we owe American Episcopalians who oppose the inclusion of gay people at all levels in our Church's life conformity with their moral vision -- respect and love, yes, but not conformity. Anglicanism understands moral choice as a struggle rather than a checklist: its role is to provide an arena for the struggle, not to provide a settlement from on high. People who don't want to ordain gay clergy should not do so. People opposed to gay marriage are strongly advised not to wed someone of the same gender. And then we need to leave each other alone.
We almost moved on at General Convention. We are excited about the Millennial Development Goals, about the tremendous increase in our ability and desire to serve the suffering, as evidenced by the huge increase in Episcopal Relief and Development's funds, about the covenant relationships between parishes and dioceses in America and Africa that have sprung up in so many, many places. Episcopalians are excited about being Christians. And we are tired of talking abo ut other peoples' sex lives, for God's sake.
We will still move on, more slowly and with more agony -- Christians have always known that if something new is of God, it will not be stopped. The clear claiming of the blessing -- of all the blessings of all the people of God -- will still come. No matter when it does come, it will still anger those who want that blessing a little narrower, please. Love them and invite them to share in it. Never dismiss another person's conviction, but form your own and be prepared to give an accounting of it. And then let's get back to work.
+ We've got a hurting world out there. Not clear about the Millennial Development Goals and what they mean? Visit http://www.er-d.org/programs_36756_ENG_HTM.htm.
+ Not Episcopalian and not sure what on earth I'm talking about in the above essay? You can read it all at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/gc2006news.htm
Copyright © 2006 Barbara Crafton - http://www.geraniumfarm.org
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Back 2 School
Well I survived another trip to my parents' house. And I'm very glad to be home.
I got a new discernment committee put together. I would have been happy to reconvene the old one but they wanted me to have new people. I'm a bit nervous because I don't actually know any of the people they picked for me. My last committee was made up of friends. Now I have to prove myself to a bunch of strangers.
Of course I am kidding. They're not there to judge me. They are there to help me determine the rest of my life. No pressure.
Sometimes I feel like such a fake. Do other ministers feel this way? I'm not even doing it for real yet and I already feel way too...I guess the word is normal. Not that I'm particularly normal. But I don't feel special enough - of course not spiritual enough, but also there are so many other things. I fight with my husband. I don't get along with my family. I have mommy issues. I react badly when people are gruff or snide or generally mean to me. I'm not really a priestly kind of person. Geezu, I don't even pray regularly. And as some of you have been kind enough to point out, I have a filthy mouth, drink too much (sometimes), and have way too many opinions which I'm not afraid to speak out (and which are not always phrased in the friendliest fashion).
Well so what. Probably not everybody feels perfect, even those sitting around me. I have my things I'm good at. Maybe priesting isn't one of them.
I'm about to start my first systematics class: ecclesiology & eschatology. I'm actually pretty excited - I think I'm going to learn a few things. Okay we are starting - yippee! Back to school!
Last thing: my favorite thing I learned tonight - at least what I most resonated with. Apophatic theology (as understood by Eastern Orthodox theologizers): it is the way of unknowing - we are always in midst of the paradox that the more we know God the more we know we don't know God.
And here's one other thing: the Eucharist isn't something church does, but something it becomes. It's not an object, it is the liturgical purpose of the church. Protestants get together and make the Eucharist. For the Orthodox, when you gather for Eucharist, that makes the church.
Ooooh, I like their eucharistic theology!
Okay, one more thing: the Orthodox won't make a statement about who God will save. Will not take a stand about anyone's salvation, even those in other religions. They are very generous about where HS will work, critical of Western tradition leaving apostolic tradition (but not of individuals).
Did I mention my prof is Orthodox? We ask if she is saved, and she says, "I was saved when Jesus died, I am working out my salvation with fear & trembling, and I hope to be saved when Jesus comes again. There is hope, but not certainty - tomorrow I could turn my back. The Orthodox will not say they know they are saved."
Wow. Damn. I wish they'd loosen up on women & gays. Although my prof is a "tonsured reader" (which caused a flack). So maybe there's more for women to do these days. Wow, I really like it all.
I got a new discernment committee put together. I would have been happy to reconvene the old one but they wanted me to have new people. I'm a bit nervous because I don't actually know any of the people they picked for me. My last committee was made up of friends. Now I have to prove myself to a bunch of strangers.
Of course I am kidding. They're not there to judge me. They are there to help me determine the rest of my life. No pressure.
Sometimes I feel like such a fake. Do other ministers feel this way? I'm not even doing it for real yet and I already feel way too...I guess the word is normal. Not that I'm particularly normal. But I don't feel special enough - of course not spiritual enough, but also there are so many other things. I fight with my husband. I don't get along with my family. I have mommy issues. I react badly when people are gruff or snide or generally mean to me. I'm not really a priestly kind of person. Geezu, I don't even pray regularly. And as some of you have been kind enough to point out, I have a filthy mouth, drink too much (sometimes), and have way too many opinions which I'm not afraid to speak out (and which are not always phrased in the friendliest fashion).
Well so what. Probably not everybody feels perfect, even those sitting around me. I have my things I'm good at. Maybe priesting isn't one of them.
I'm about to start my first systematics class: ecclesiology & eschatology. I'm actually pretty excited - I think I'm going to learn a few things. Okay we are starting - yippee! Back to school!
Last thing: my favorite thing I learned tonight - at least what I most resonated with. Apophatic theology (as understood by Eastern Orthodox theologizers): it is the way of unknowing - we are always in midst of the paradox that the more we know God the more we know we don't know God.
And here's one other thing: the Eucharist isn't something church does, but something it becomes. It's not an object, it is the liturgical purpose of the church. Protestants get together and make the Eucharist. For the Orthodox, when you gather for Eucharist, that makes the church.
Ooooh, I like their eucharistic theology!
Okay, one more thing: the Orthodox won't make a statement about who God will save. Will not take a stand about anyone's salvation, even those in other religions. They are very generous about where HS will work, critical of Western tradition leaving apostolic tradition (but not of individuals).
Did I mention my prof is Orthodox? We ask if she is saved, and she says, "I was saved when Jesus died, I am working out my salvation with fear & trembling, and I hope to be saved when Jesus comes again. There is hope, but not certainty - tomorrow I could turn my back. The Orthodox will not say they know they are saved."
Wow. Damn. I wish they'd loosen up on women & gays. Although my prof is a "tonsured reader" (which caused a flack). So maybe there's more for women to do these days. Wow, I really like it all.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Keep fighting, Al!
Okay, I got this in an email, and I just think it's the cutest thing. You can go sign it if you like - tell Al Gore to keep fighting the good fight! (on behalf of a party that...well...let's just have Al fight for the environment, shall we?)
I can't wait to see his movie.
http://www.democrats.org/keepfighting
I can't wait to see his movie.
http://www.democrats.org/keepfighting
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Sermon #2
Okay my friends (and the rest of you), here's what I'm preaching today at 11 a.m. (pst). Send up a prayer for me. This is so different from what my classmates have been doing that I'm a bit nervous. I don't know if they'll think it is preaching or not.
Well enough qualifications. Read it slowly for maximum effect...
Abide
06/07/06
A reading from the gospel according to John.
I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.
He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit.
Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.
You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you.
Abide in me as I abide in you.
Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.
I am the vine, you are the branches.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.
Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.
If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.
The Word of the Lord. (Thanks be to God)
Let us pray.
God be in my head
And in my understanding
God be in my eyes
And in my looking
God be in my mouth
And in my speaking
Amen
Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine,
neither can you unless you abide in me.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit…
Karpos polys…
Much fruit.
(Polycarp)
Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.
The sculptor explains:
“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”[1]
Do you see Amy in the stone?
Do you see Tommy?
Tara?
Jeremy?
Jeff?
Jon?
Paul?
Ian?
The Father tends the vine…
waters it,
feeds it,
prunes it,
provides it everything it needs to grow.
The branch presents a fragrant blossom,
which develops into a grape,
which nurses on the nourishment of its vine,
growing sweeter and richer day by day.
This gives God pleasure
that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.
The runner declares:
“I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast.
And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”[4]
God made you for a purpose.
God brought you here to this seminary
to this class
to this moment
for a purpose.
When you preach, do you feel God’s pleasure?
Well enough qualifications. Read it slowly for maximum effect...
Abide
06/07/06
A reading from the gospel according to John.
I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinegrower.
He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit.
Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.
You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you.
Abide in me as I abide in you.
Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.
I am the vine, you are the branches.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.
Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.
If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.
The Word of the Lord. (Thanks be to God)
Let us pray.
God be in my head
And in my understanding
God be in my eyes
And in my looking
God be in my mouth
And in my speaking
Amen
They are working in the dark.
The deep silence is broken only by the water that drips down,
kissing their heads with its sweet coolness.
Maybe some food will arrive today, but then again, probably not.
No matter.
They will continue without it.
They grunt and strain,
all their being striving toward the light,
dreaming of the sun.
Some move too quickly and are burned.
Some are reticent, unwilling to leave the safety…
the warmth…
the dark.
But in some,
the brightest and most beautiful vibrant green energy takes solid form,
and with a final shuddering thrust,
the tiny shoot pushes up through the soil,
and the plant announces its birth to the great wide world.
I am the true vine.
My Father is the vinegrower.
My Father is the gardener.
My Father tills the soil.
The vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel,
and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting.
I planted you as a choice vine, from the purest stock.
I, the LORD, am its keeper; every moment I water it.
I guard it night and day so that no one can harm it;
I have no wrath.
If it gives me thorns and briers,
I will march to battle against it.
I will burn it up.
Or else let it cling to me for protection,
let it make peace with me,
let it make peace with me.
In days to come Jacob shall take root,
Israel shall blossom and put forth shoots,
and fill the whole world with fruit.
My Father is glorified by this,
that you bear much fruit,
and become my disciples.
You are the true people of God.
You are the new Israel.
Become who you are.
[BEAT]
Abide in me.
Abide in me.
Remain in the vine.
Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine,
neither can you unless you abide in me.
I am the vine, you are the branches.
The branches are the conduits for the fruit’s life-creating nutrients.
A skilled winemaker leaves fruit on the vine as long as nature will allow,
causing it to become sweeter and richer and fuller and more complex with
each
passing
moment.
My sisters and brothers, we have borne fruit.
Praying,
procrastinating,
researching,
writing,
rehearsing,
and finally
releasing.
It is a terrifying,
exuberant,
breathtaking mission,
to preach God’s good news to the world.
What joy!
What peace.
It is God who calls us.
God who speaks through us.
God who abides in us,
and we in God.
[BEAT]
Abide in me.
Abide in me.
Bear fruit.
Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit…
Karpos polys…
Much fruit.
(Polycarp)
Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.
The sculptor explains:
“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”[1]
Do you see Amy in the stone?
Do you see Tommy?
Tara?
Jeremy?
Jeff?
Jon?
Paul?
Ian?
[BEAT]
Abide in me.
Abide in me.
Apart from me you can do nothing.
The Father tends the vine…
waters it,
feeds it,
prunes it,
provides it everything it needs to grow.
The son is the vine…
the absolute encapsulation of the people of God,
the supreme archetype of Israel.
The son completely obeys the will of the Father.
How do we remain in him,
abide in him,
bear much fruit?
She rushes forth like a mighty wind,
leaving flames and tongues in her wake.
She lives in us,
breathes through us,
impregnating us with the Word that we must labor to bring to life,[2]
producing the fruit
by which we are known.
The preacher proclaims:
“There is no self-help at Pentecost!”[3]
Branches don’t make fruit grow.
The Holy Spirit,
the Lord,
the giver of life,
proceeds from the Father and the Son
into our world
and penetrates our being.
I abide in you.
[BEAT]
Abide in me.
Abide in me.
I am the vine.
The branch presents a fragrant blossom,
which develops into a grape,
which nurses on the nourishment of its vine,
growing sweeter and richer day by day.
Suddenly the fruit is jerked away.
Rough hands grab hold of it and yank it from the branch
that has so faithfully and patiently produced it.
The fruit’s destiny is to be crushed.
Without the crush there is no wine.
When the fruit reaches its absolute peak,
when it is as perfect as it can possibly be -
It is plucked and crushed.
Out of separation and violence emerges a new substance,
greater than what the fruit could ever have been
had it remained on its branch.
Only after the crush will the fruit reveal its truest, deepest potential.
I am the vine.
This is my blood, shed for you.
I am the vine…
and I am the wine…
Only after the crush
did Jesus reveal his truest, deepest potential.
Very truly, I tell you,
unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man
and drink his blood,
you have no life in you.
I am the living bread.
I am the true vine.
Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.
[BEAT]
Abide in me.
Abide in me.
My Father is glorified by this.
This gives God pleasure
that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.
The runner declares:
“I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast.
And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”[4]
God made you for a purpose.
God brought you here to this seminary
to this class
to this moment
for a purpose.
When you preach, do you feel God’s pleasure?
[BEAT]
We started in the dark.
The vinegrower has faithfully tended us,
pruning and shaping so we would produce.
and each of us has put forth succulent, fragrant fruit.
Our fruit…
our sermons…
our hearts…
we have tentatively, gingerly held open to one another.
They have been crushed.
We have been picked
and picked apart
and sometimes we are left with nothing more than stained fingers.
Know this: the crush is not the end of the process.
The fruit hasn’t even begun to live
until after it's been crushed.
The fruit is mysteriously transformed
from whatever we inert bumbling branches
tried to produce…
It takes on new life,
as we uncork our lips,
and the Word of God pours
into a world dying of thirst.
My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit, and be my disciples.
My sisters and brothers, bear much fruit.
Abide in the Son,
through the life-giving Spirit,
tended by our faithful Father.
Go forth with God’s word,
giving pleasure to your Father in heaven.
Amen.
[1] Michelangelo, quoted in 2006 Fuller Focus (with thanks to Amy Meverden for the citation).
[2] This phrase from Rev. Elizabeth Davenport (sermon for Pentecost 2006).
[3] Rev. Jimmy Bartz, “Outward Action,” All Saints’ Beverly Hills, Pentecost 2006.
[4] Eric Liddell in Chariots of Fire (1981).
Monday, June 05, 2006
An anniversary...and a - I don't know what
The conversation is still going on over at the interfaith post, and I hope you'll check it out if you haven't already (it's the next one after this). But I needed to take a moment to spread the word about a couple of things.
First, I got this via email from my cousin, and he says it very well so I'll just let his words speak:
A Grim Milestone
Twenty-five years ago today, the CDC reported that five gay men in LA were treated for a rare type of pneumonia and two died from what would later be known as AIDS. Yesterday’s San Jose Mercury News had the first of a two-part series. Yesterday’s part focused on the fact that the epidemic in the US has moved to being one of the poor and destitute: “As long as it stays hidden in the margins of society, AIDS will never be extinguished, said Dr. Willi McFarland, director of HIV surveillance for the San Francisco Department of Health.” Complete article and other coverage here.
Scary. Ominous.
The SF Chronicle also has several articles online at http://www.sfgate.com/aidsat25. In case you don’t have time to look at all their extensive coverage, here are a couple of highlights:
This 1982 article by Randy Shilts (author of And the Band Played On) is a tear-jerker.
The article contains a “more things change, the more they stay the same” line: “And when one gay victim of pneumocystis lapsed into a semi-coma, his relatives tried to strike his lover's name from the guest list and forbid him from seeing the dying man”
This picture is worth a quick look. It’s a heartbreaker that everybody should see as a reminder.
I humbly request that everybody take a moment to remember the half million Americans who have died over the last 25 years, the lost generation in Africa, and the continued problem throughout the world--and hope that we can solve this soon.
I am adding this article from yesterday's LA Times about the nearly-forgotten, once quite powerful AIDS quilt.
AIDS is a different sort of problem now, a worldwide problem, incredibly devastating. It's not passe. It's most certainly not over. May we not forget those who died nor those living with it and being exposed to it. May we continue to pray for - and seek and support - a cure.
Now, on a completely different note, I got this from my brother today:
As I researched this, it was like a bad dream unfolding. I didn't believe it at first. They have created a Left Behind video game - and it seems we finally have solid proof that Lahaye and Jenkins aren't Christians and that all they care about is money.
Fortunately it's not slated to release until October, so that should give time for us to spread the word and get churches to shut down the Left Behind series for good.
First, I got this via email from my cousin, and he says it very well so I'll just let his words speak:
A Grim Milestone
Twenty-five years ago today, the CDC reported that five gay men in LA were treated for a rare type of pneumonia and two died from what would later be known as AIDS. Yesterday’s San Jose Mercury News had the first of a two-part series. Yesterday’s part focused on the fact that the epidemic in the US has moved to being one of the poor and destitute: “As long as it stays hidden in the margins of society, AIDS will never be extinguished, said Dr. Willi McFarland, director of HIV surveillance for the San Francisco Department of Health.” Complete article and other coverage here.
Scary. Ominous.
The SF Chronicle also has several articles online at http://www.sfgate.com/aidsat25. In case you don’t have time to look at all their extensive coverage, here are a couple of highlights:
This 1982 article by Randy Shilts (author of And the Band Played On) is a tear-jerker.
The article contains a “more things change, the more they stay the same” line: “And when one gay victim of pneumocystis lapsed into a semi-coma, his relatives tried to strike his lover's name from the guest list and forbid him from seeing the dying man”
This picture is worth a quick look. It’s a heartbreaker that everybody should see as a reminder.
I humbly request that everybody take a moment to remember the half million Americans who have died over the last 25 years, the lost generation in Africa, and the continued problem throughout the world--and hope that we can solve this soon.
I am adding this article from yesterday's LA Times about the nearly-forgotten, once quite powerful AIDS quilt.
AIDS is a different sort of problem now, a worldwide problem, incredibly devastating. It's not passe. It's most certainly not over. May we not forget those who died nor those living with it and being exposed to it. May we continue to pray for - and seek and support - a cure.
Now, on a completely different note, I got this from my brother today:
As I researched this, it was like a bad dream unfolding. I didn't believe it at first. They have created a Left Behind video game - and it seems we finally have solid proof that Lahaye and Jenkins aren't Christians and that all they care about is money.
Fortunately it's not slated to release until October, so that should give time for us to spread the word and get churches to shut down the Left Behind series for good.
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