I put this together for our parish to use on Sunday the 11th. Feel free to use/adapt as you would like.
Litany for the 10th Anniversary of the Attacks on September 11th, 2001
Grace Episcopal Church, Kirkwood MO
Celebrant: In peace, let us pray to the Lord, saying “Lord hear our prayer.”
Intercessor: We remember today the tragedy of the attack on our nation ten years ago as the twin towers fell, and planes crashed in Pennsylvania and into the Pentagon.
For our nation, which was forever changed that day, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For the victims of 9/11, for their families and loved ones, and for those who continue to struggle with pain, grief, loneliness, injury and fear, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For our President and for all leaders and policy makers around the world, that they may be guided by wisdom to find peaceable solutions, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For the Church, that we may be a channel of God’s peace and healing to the world, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For all victims of violence, tyranny, and terrorism, and for those who perpetuate violence, that the world may become a safer place for all people, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For our service men and women, for police officers, fire fighters, and all those who serve the public, that they may be protected from harm, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For peace and the grace to forgive, and for an end to all violence, war, terrorism, and hatred, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For the sick, the suffering, and those in need, especially…. we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
For those who died during the attacks of 9/11, for those who have died fighting terrorism, and for our loved ones who have died (especially…) we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
With thanksgiving we recall the outpouring of help, kindness, support, and generosity in the wake of 9/11, and the heroes who risked their lives to save others, that their example may guide and encourage us, we pray to the Lord.
Lord hear our prayer.
Concluding Collect: For protection
Celebrant: Assist us mercifully, O Lord, in these our supplications and prayers, and dispose the way of your servants towards the attainment of everlasting salvation; that, among all the changes and chances of this mortal life, they may ever be defended by your gracious and ready help; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
St. Alban’s Day 2011
St. Alban’s Day 2011
The opening words of our Gospel today are easily the most controversial words Jesus ever spoke, and so it is very difficult to begin our reading with them: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Luke’s Gospel records Jesus’ words in a slightly different way: “Do you suppose that I came to grant peace on earth? I tell you, no, but rather division.” The concept of division is at least a bit easier to understand than the sword, which may lead us to think Jesus is advocating violence, but it’s still a tough passage. Immediately after these words, Jesus follows by quoting from the Jewish Scriptures from Micah 7:6 regarding the division that would occur between family members. So, what is Jesus saying in this passage? And how do his words connect us to our celebration of our patron saint today, St. Alban the martyr?
First, let’s be clear that Jesus is not advocating violence in this passage. We know this because throughout the Gospels and the New Testament, Jesus is not only proclaimed as the Prince of Peace, but he consistently advocates for the way of peace, and of mercy and forgiveness, including turning the other cheek to one’s enemy. Jesus is not then, describing his purpose, so much as anticipating the actual result of his coming: it cannot be avoided that division will come because of Jesus in that, in choosing to follow Jesus, the sword of division necessarily comes between followers of Jesus and those who would reject him, even at times, among one’s own family members. While knowing and following Jesus brings internal peace to a believer, this does not mean we can expect the world or those around us to react peaceably to us.
Jesus’ words would have been very important and helpful to the early Christians, many of whom were rejected by their family members and even persecuted or put to death for following Jesus as their Lord. And here is where our reading connects us to St. Alban, our patron saint.
Alban actually fulfills the second part of our Gospel reading first: because he welcomed someone in Jesus’ name into his home, offering a disciple a cup of cool water. And in doing so, Alban welcomed Jesus himself. A Christian priest, who was a fugitive and was hiding during the persecution of Emperor Septimius Severus in the year 209, was given shelter and hiding in Alban’s home. Alban was a pagan Roman soldier living in Verulamium, an area in England just north of where London is today. Alban and the priest spoke together at length over several days and Alban experienced a deep conversion and decided to become a Christian, making a choice to follow Jesus, despite the risk to himself. The priest baptized Alban and later, when soldiers came to arrest the priest, Alban wore the priest’s cloak, and had himself arrested in the priest’s stead, being mistaken for the cleric. Alban was taken before the magistrate, who realized the deception, but ordered that Alban be punished anyway. Alban had the opportunity to recant in that moment, but instead Alban declared: "I worship and adore the true and living God who created all things." His words brought about his sentence: death by be-heading. As they marched Alban to his place of execution, it is said that the guard who was to kill him was so impressed by Alban’s witness that he too became a Christian on the spot and refused to carry out the execution. Nevertheless, Alban was killed on a hill across town from River Ver and became the first martyr in all of England. Alban’s would-be executioner was then killed and became the second martyr, immediately after Alban. And it also said that the third martyr was the Christian priest, who presented himself to the magistrate in hopes of having Alban freed, only to become a martyr himself. Many legends surround Alban’s martyrdom, including one that involves a spring bursting forth on the site where he was killed where many miracles and healings took place, as depicted in our fresco by James Hubble above the altar. Many pilgrims still make their way to the site of Alban’s death, where an abbey and later a Cathedral now sit, high upon a hill. The town itself changed its’ name to St. Alban’s.
For many early Christians like St. Alban, choosing to follow Jesus meant division and even death. For them, Jesus’ anticipatory words about his coming rang true. Jesus himself was the victim of anger and violence because of who he was and what he taught.
The beautiful thing about martyrs like Alban, however, is that while they experienced the sword on earth and lost their life…in losing their life they found it. As Jesus said, “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” The Jewish singer Matisyahu puts it this way in his song, “King without a Crown”: “Strip away the layers and reveal your soul – give yourself up and then you become whole.”
For some, like the martyrs, they must literally give up their very lives to find God and wholeness. For most of us, the sacrifices are not as dramatic, but may be just as difficult. We need to ask ourselves the hard questions: “What do I need to give up? What must I lose so that I can find life?”
Recently I was struck by a story in the news about one man in Japan named Yasutera Yamada, a 72 year old who volunteered himself and then gathered over 200 retired nuclear engineers for duty at the dangerous Fukushima nuclear plant. He knew that the younger engineers were being exposed to deadly amounts of radiation which could show up now or later and kill younger workers and even impact the next generation of children. And so he rallied together a group who call themselves the “Skilled Veteran Corps” to step up for duty. These older, retired engineers, aged 60 or over, are saying that they are ready to sacrifice and even possibly die in order to keep the younger workers safe and out of harm’s way. The plan has not gone through with the authorities yet, but as I listened to Yasutera interviewed, I could sense that this man, by offering himself for such a dangerous duty, had indeed found deep meaning and purpose. This is a man who is offering himself sacrificially on behalf of others, and in giving up his life, is finding it. What a powerful example he and his group are to the younger generations of Japan, to live not in self-centeredness, but to give for others.
Wherever we are, and whatever we do, we will have opportunities to give of ourselves in some way, shape, or form out of love for God and others. If we practice in small ways to today, giving up those things that hold us, then we will be ready to give in even bigger ways should the need arise. Jesus, Alban, martyrs and people like Yasutera Yamada remind us and encourage us, that in losing our lives, we find our lives.
The opening words of our Gospel today are easily the most controversial words Jesus ever spoke, and so it is very difficult to begin our reading with them: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” Luke’s Gospel records Jesus’ words in a slightly different way: “Do you suppose that I came to grant peace on earth? I tell you, no, but rather division.” The concept of division is at least a bit easier to understand than the sword, which may lead us to think Jesus is advocating violence, but it’s still a tough passage. Immediately after these words, Jesus follows by quoting from the Jewish Scriptures from Micah 7:6 regarding the division that would occur between family members. So, what is Jesus saying in this passage? And how do his words connect us to our celebration of our patron saint today, St. Alban the martyr?
First, let’s be clear that Jesus is not advocating violence in this passage. We know this because throughout the Gospels and the New Testament, Jesus is not only proclaimed as the Prince of Peace, but he consistently advocates for the way of peace, and of mercy and forgiveness, including turning the other cheek to one’s enemy. Jesus is not then, describing his purpose, so much as anticipating the actual result of his coming: it cannot be avoided that division will come because of Jesus in that, in choosing to follow Jesus, the sword of division necessarily comes between followers of Jesus and those who would reject him, even at times, among one’s own family members. While knowing and following Jesus brings internal peace to a believer, this does not mean we can expect the world or those around us to react peaceably to us.
Jesus’ words would have been very important and helpful to the early Christians, many of whom were rejected by their family members and even persecuted or put to death for following Jesus as their Lord. And here is where our reading connects us to St. Alban, our patron saint.
Alban actually fulfills the second part of our Gospel reading first: because he welcomed someone in Jesus’ name into his home, offering a disciple a cup of cool water. And in doing so, Alban welcomed Jesus himself. A Christian priest, who was a fugitive and was hiding during the persecution of Emperor Septimius Severus in the year 209, was given shelter and hiding in Alban’s home. Alban was a pagan Roman soldier living in Verulamium, an area in England just north of where London is today. Alban and the priest spoke together at length over several days and Alban experienced a deep conversion and decided to become a Christian, making a choice to follow Jesus, despite the risk to himself. The priest baptized Alban and later, when soldiers came to arrest the priest, Alban wore the priest’s cloak, and had himself arrested in the priest’s stead, being mistaken for the cleric. Alban was taken before the magistrate, who realized the deception, but ordered that Alban be punished anyway. Alban had the opportunity to recant in that moment, but instead Alban declared: "I worship and adore the true and living God who created all things." His words brought about his sentence: death by be-heading. As they marched Alban to his place of execution, it is said that the guard who was to kill him was so impressed by Alban’s witness that he too became a Christian on the spot and refused to carry out the execution. Nevertheless, Alban was killed on a hill across town from River Ver and became the first martyr in all of England. Alban’s would-be executioner was then killed and became the second martyr, immediately after Alban. And it also said that the third martyr was the Christian priest, who presented himself to the magistrate in hopes of having Alban freed, only to become a martyr himself. Many legends surround Alban’s martyrdom, including one that involves a spring bursting forth on the site where he was killed where many miracles and healings took place, as depicted in our fresco by James Hubble above the altar. Many pilgrims still make their way to the site of Alban’s death, where an abbey and later a Cathedral now sit, high upon a hill. The town itself changed its’ name to St. Alban’s.
For many early Christians like St. Alban, choosing to follow Jesus meant division and even death. For them, Jesus’ anticipatory words about his coming rang true. Jesus himself was the victim of anger and violence because of who he was and what he taught.
The beautiful thing about martyrs like Alban, however, is that while they experienced the sword on earth and lost their life…in losing their life they found it. As Jesus said, “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” The Jewish singer Matisyahu puts it this way in his song, “King without a Crown”: “Strip away the layers and reveal your soul – give yourself up and then you become whole.”
For some, like the martyrs, they must literally give up their very lives to find God and wholeness. For most of us, the sacrifices are not as dramatic, but may be just as difficult. We need to ask ourselves the hard questions: “What do I need to give up? What must I lose so that I can find life?”
Recently I was struck by a story in the news about one man in Japan named Yasutera Yamada, a 72 year old who volunteered himself and then gathered over 200 retired nuclear engineers for duty at the dangerous Fukushima nuclear plant. He knew that the younger engineers were being exposed to deadly amounts of radiation which could show up now or later and kill younger workers and even impact the next generation of children. And so he rallied together a group who call themselves the “Skilled Veteran Corps” to step up for duty. These older, retired engineers, aged 60 or over, are saying that they are ready to sacrifice and even possibly die in order to keep the younger workers safe and out of harm’s way. The plan has not gone through with the authorities yet, but as I listened to Yasutera interviewed, I could sense that this man, by offering himself for such a dangerous duty, had indeed found deep meaning and purpose. This is a man who is offering himself sacrificially on behalf of others, and in giving up his life, is finding it. What a powerful example he and his group are to the younger generations of Japan, to live not in self-centeredness, but to give for others.
Wherever we are, and whatever we do, we will have opportunities to give of ourselves in some way, shape, or form out of love for God and others. If we practice in small ways to today, giving up those things that hold us, then we will be ready to give in even bigger ways should the need arise. Jesus, Alban, martyrs and people like Yasutera Yamada remind us and encourage us, that in losing our lives, we find our lives.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Trinity Sunday Sermon 2011
Today we celebrate Trinity Sunday, but when speaking of the Trinity, it is very, very easy to get confused or fall into rather bad theology. As one professor told us, “Almost everything people say about the Trinity is heresy.” But still, we try, and we’ll try again today.
Here’s a little joke to demonstrate the point:
Jesus said, Whom do men say that I am?
And his disciples answered and said, Some say you are John the Baptist returned from the dead; others say Elias, or other of the old prophets.
And Jesus answered and said, But whom do you say that I am?
Peter answered and said, "Thou art the Logos, existing in the Father as His rationality and then, by an act of His will, being generated, in consideration of the various functions by which God is related to his creation, but only on the fact that Scripture speaks of a Father, and a Son, and a Holy Spirit, each member of the Trinity being coequal with every other member, and each acting inseparably with and interpenetrating every other member, with only an economic subordination within God, but causing no division which would make the substance no longer simple."
And Jesus answered… and said, "What?"
But difficult as it may be, the Trinity is truly one of those doctrines that clearly distinguishes Christianity from all over faiths. No one else worships a Trinitarian God (and it’s also quite possible that no one else understands it either. More than one person has accused Christians of being polytheists.) But when you dig deep, you see that our faith is indeed monotheistic, and yet a little paradoxical. The Trinity truly is one of the most awe inspiring mysteries of our faith and that is why we set aside a day, today, to observe and even celebrate its’ wonder.
But what can we say about the Trinity without getting too bogged down? Essentially we believe that God has been revealed as three persons but one God. Those three persons have always existed, co-created our world (like we read in Genesis), and are all equally involved in the work of redemption and reconciliation. We are called to baptize people in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And you can hear hints of the Trinity in Genesis from the text we just read. Listen again: “Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness;” God is speaking of God’s self here in the plural, not singular. Yet Judaism has always affirmed monotheism, the doctrine that God is One. The famous Jewish prayer the “Shema” opens with the very clear statement: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.” Likewise, Islam declares its belief in one God in their famous declaration: “There is no god but Allah” which is another way of saying, “There is no god but God.” Even Hinduism, which many people mistakenly define as strictly polytheistic, is actually monotheistic at its core and origins: Brahman is the unity, the one divine entity and the other “gods” like Vishnu and Shiva are simply various aspects or faces of that unity---like different expressions of the one God. But this is all a bit complicated and people get easily confused.
One amazing attempt to describe the Trinity is found in a Creed called the Creed of Saint Athanasius, which I always like to point out on Trinity Sunday because it is in our Prayer Books and is often recited in church on this day in England. We don’t know who authored it, but it has been in continual use by the church since the 6th century. I invite you to turn to it in your Prayer Books to page 864. We won’t read it today, but I’d like you to glance over the language. It contains such lines as “The Father eternal, the Son eternal, and the Holy Ghost eternal. And yet they are not three eternals but one eternal.” You may leave scratching your head with this language but it shows us how painstakingly the early church tried to parse out an accurate description of the Trinity. This is serious business!
So, indeed, we do affirm as Christians that God is a Trinity of three persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and yet one God. But what impact does that doctrine have on your life personally?
Here is the really exciting and wonderful thing about the doctrine of the Trinity: we have not invited into a stagnant interaction with a sole being, but into a dynamic relationship of love already being shared among and by the three persons of the Trinity in self-giving, each one revealing God to us in a unique way. In other words, God is like a community. And it is the most incredible model of community imaginable. Not only are we invited to share in that life, but we can establish our own lives based on the Trinitarian model where our relationships are mutual, based on justice, peace, love, self-giving, and equality. The Trinity then is a model for our own families, churches and communities!
Certainly love requires more than one person to exist, right? And God’s very nature is love. An understanding of the Trinity then, allows us to proclaim, not just that God is loving, but that God “is love.”
On a recent TV show we were watching, a vain teenage boy was asked by a wise old wizard whether or not he was in love, in order to help break a spell that had been cast. “Yes, I am in love” the boy replied. “With whom?” asked the wizard. The boy responded, “With myself!” “Oh” said the wizard, “that doesn’t count.”
So for God to be love, God must have an subject to love, independent of you and I, and independent of mere self-love. God can truly “be love” because that love exists within the context of relationship within the three persons of the Holy Trinity.
And so it is no slight distinction that God is three persons in one God. It is a radical shift in our understanding of the very essence and nature of God as love.
So how does the Trinity impact us as individuals? Our whole reality is altered: because the very basis of our reality is none other than the loving communion of three persons who exist in perfect unity: the life of the Trinity is the basis for our life. Because of the Trinity, we can declare and know and experience that God IS love and we can live in that late. Then go and share the love! AMEN.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Pentecost: Come Holy Spirit!
Let us pray: Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in us the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit and we shall be created and you shall renew the face of the earth. O God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit did instruct the hearts of the faithful, grant that by the same Holy Spirit we may be truly wise and ever enjoy your consolations, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
A good clergy friend of mine was recently interviewing with a church Vestry and as she recounted the interview she said, “They asked me how I was going to grow the church, because they need new members. I just told them the truth.” She paused a moment and I found myself wondering what “the truth” was, it seemed like it should be obvious to me, but it wasn’t and I wasn’t sure what she may have said. Then she said, “I told them that isn’t my job… that is their job. I said I would certainly facilitate them doing the work and ministry that needed to be done to grow the church, but ultimately growing the church is their ministry, the ministry of the baptized.”
I admit- I was impressed by her answer and I agree with her completely; I felt a bit silly for not realizing this obvious answer. But yes: she may have a role to play, but ultimately churches grow because of the ministry of the whole community, because of the ministry of the members of everyone there. One of the many odd things about being a parish priest is that you get blamed for a lot of things that aren’t your fault and you get credit for things that aren’t about you, and you also do a lot of ministry no one will ever know about. It just comes with the territory. In one of my former parishes, they realized this, and so at the end of every annual meeting, there was a tradition that I really enjoyed: a long time member would always stand up and remind us of an important truth. She would say that the Rector that year had been blamed for a lot of things that weren’t his fault, and that he also did a lot of things that no one saw or knew about, and for those things, she asked the members to stand and applaud, and the congregation always happily obliged with a rousing round of applause and smiles. She was nice enough to leave off the part about getting credit for things he hadn’t done though.
St. Alban’s has grown since my arrival and I have heard our members attribute that to my presence, but my part in this has been very, very small: it has primarily been a combination of God’s grace among us and the ministry that you all bring as members and friends of St. Alban’s. Even before I got here, you were reaching out to those in need, including the refugees who just starting to find their way into our community. And you have shown yourselves to be an open and welcoming church, time and time again, truly opening your hands and hearts to all who come through our doors, making St. Alban’s, in recent years, one of the most diverse if not the most diverse parish in the Diocese. This has been a Holy Spirit lead phenomenon. This is one of the important actions of the Holy Spirit: the Spirit moves upon and makes us one in the Spirit, regardless of our economic status or ethnic background. As St. Paul writes, “For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body-- Jews or Greeks, slaves or free-- and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.”
I have witnessed your Holy Spirit inspired love on many occasions and I know that will continue no matter who your next priest is…and this is why St. Alban’s has grown and will continue to grow- there is room for a lot more growth. I told the story recently to Drusilla Grubb, who is writing an article about St. Alban’s for the Diocesan Messenger, about one of those Holy Spirit moments I was blessed to witness when the gift of hospitality was very apparent here. I described a morning before church, as we were gathering in front to greet people, when a woman off the street who spoke broken English came up and asked us what kind of church we were. I answered and then she said she would come back when she was properly dressed. One of our choir members reached over immediately and warmly hugged this woman, a complete stranger, and said, “You are welcome here, please come and worship with us today, just as you are.” She then lead the woman into the church and the woman stayed, with a smile and tears in her eyes. The woman came back with a friend later that week to worship and said to me, “I told my friend to come here because Jesus is here.”
My friends: the Holy Spirit has gifted you, each one of you in a special way, and nothing can take that away. On this day of Pentecost we are invited to celebrate and remember the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the first followers of Jesus. We are also called to recognize and celebrate with deep joy, the Holy Spirit’s presence among us today. As St. Paul states in our lesson today, there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge …to another faith …to another gifts of healing…to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.” You may have one of these very gifts or your gift may not be listed here (it’s not an exhaustive list by any means), but the Holy Spirit has blessed each of us at baptism with spiritual gifts . Our response and calling is to use those gifts, as the text says, “for the common good.” Your gifts of wisdom, faith, teaching, healing, or language...whatever your gift, is meant for the building up of the whole community.
Thank you for bringing your spiritual gifts and offering them back to God as you sacrifice, serve, or just do what comes naturally to you, here at St. Alban’s. If you haven’t yet offered your gifts, I invite to pray about that and ask God to reveal to you how you can serve God in this community, for the common good. And then know that this is a community blessed by the Holy Spirit’s presence and is filled with people who have been gifted in incredible ways by the Spirit.
Let us pray: Thank you Holy Spirit for being present among us and within the people of St. Alban’s. Thank you for your grace and love in our lives and enable us to hear your call, to open our hearts to your leading, and to use our gifts for your glory. Bless each member of St. Alban’s with an outpouring of your power so that they can do and accomplish all you’ve given them to do, confident of the spiritual gifts you have given them. We praise, honor, and glorify you this day. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
A good clergy friend of mine was recently interviewing with a church Vestry and as she recounted the interview she said, “They asked me how I was going to grow the church, because they need new members. I just told them the truth.” She paused a moment and I found myself wondering what “the truth” was, it seemed like it should be obvious to me, but it wasn’t and I wasn’t sure what she may have said. Then she said, “I told them that isn’t my job… that is their job. I said I would certainly facilitate them doing the work and ministry that needed to be done to grow the church, but ultimately growing the church is their ministry, the ministry of the baptized.”
I admit- I was impressed by her answer and I agree with her completely; I felt a bit silly for not realizing this obvious answer. But yes: she may have a role to play, but ultimately churches grow because of the ministry of the whole community, because of the ministry of the members of everyone there. One of the many odd things about being a parish priest is that you get blamed for a lot of things that aren’t your fault and you get credit for things that aren’t about you, and you also do a lot of ministry no one will ever know about. It just comes with the territory. In one of my former parishes, they realized this, and so at the end of every annual meeting, there was a tradition that I really enjoyed: a long time member would always stand up and remind us of an important truth. She would say that the Rector that year had been blamed for a lot of things that weren’t his fault, and that he also did a lot of things that no one saw or knew about, and for those things, she asked the members to stand and applaud, and the congregation always happily obliged with a rousing round of applause and smiles. She was nice enough to leave off the part about getting credit for things he hadn’t done though.
St. Alban’s has grown since my arrival and I have heard our members attribute that to my presence, but my part in this has been very, very small: it has primarily been a combination of God’s grace among us and the ministry that you all bring as members and friends of St. Alban’s. Even before I got here, you were reaching out to those in need, including the refugees who just starting to find their way into our community. And you have shown yourselves to be an open and welcoming church, time and time again, truly opening your hands and hearts to all who come through our doors, making St. Alban’s, in recent years, one of the most diverse if not the most diverse parish in the Diocese. This has been a Holy Spirit lead phenomenon. This is one of the important actions of the Holy Spirit: the Spirit moves upon and makes us one in the Spirit, regardless of our economic status or ethnic background. As St. Paul writes, “For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body-- Jews or Greeks, slaves or free-- and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.”
I have witnessed your Holy Spirit inspired love on many occasions and I know that will continue no matter who your next priest is…and this is why St. Alban’s has grown and will continue to grow- there is room for a lot more growth. I told the story recently to Drusilla Grubb, who is writing an article about St. Alban’s for the Diocesan Messenger, about one of those Holy Spirit moments I was blessed to witness when the gift of hospitality was very apparent here. I described a morning before church, as we were gathering in front to greet people, when a woman off the street who spoke broken English came up and asked us what kind of church we were. I answered and then she said she would come back when she was properly dressed. One of our choir members reached over immediately and warmly hugged this woman, a complete stranger, and said, “You are welcome here, please come and worship with us today, just as you are.” She then lead the woman into the church and the woman stayed, with a smile and tears in her eyes. The woman came back with a friend later that week to worship and said to me, “I told my friend to come here because Jesus is here.”
My friends: the Holy Spirit has gifted you, each one of you in a special way, and nothing can take that away. On this day of Pentecost we are invited to celebrate and remember the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the first followers of Jesus. We are also called to recognize and celebrate with deep joy, the Holy Spirit’s presence among us today. As St. Paul states in our lesson today, there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge …to another faith …to another gifts of healing…to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.” You may have one of these very gifts or your gift may not be listed here (it’s not an exhaustive list by any means), but the Holy Spirit has blessed each of us at baptism with spiritual gifts . Our response and calling is to use those gifts, as the text says, “for the common good.” Your gifts of wisdom, faith, teaching, healing, or language...whatever your gift, is meant for the building up of the whole community.
Thank you for bringing your spiritual gifts and offering them back to God as you sacrifice, serve, or just do what comes naturally to you, here at St. Alban’s. If you haven’t yet offered your gifts, I invite to pray about that and ask God to reveal to you how you can serve God in this community, for the common good. And then know that this is a community blessed by the Holy Spirit’s presence and is filled with people who have been gifted in incredible ways by the Spirit.
Let us pray: Thank you Holy Spirit for being present among us and within the people of St. Alban’s. Thank you for your grace and love in our lives and enable us to hear your call, to open our hearts to your leading, and to use our gifts for your glory. Bless each member of St. Alban’s with an outpouring of your power so that they can do and accomplish all you’ve given them to do, confident of the spiritual gifts you have given them. We praise, honor, and glorify you this day. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
Monday, June 6, 2011
The Ascension
I know many of you saw the billboards plastered around San Diego and across the nation warning of Judgment Day on May 21st. When I first saw the posters, I assumed they meant that there was going to be some kind of local church gathering whereby a pastor would “judge” people in the congregation, because I just couldn’t believe that anyone would be so bold (or even foolish) as to claim to know when THE Judgment Day and rapture was going to occur. But I soon discovered that people were selling their belongings and spending their life savings to advertise this event as the actual judgment day of the world, as predicted by Pastor Harold Camping of Family Radio. While many religious groups have attempted to predict Judgment Day and the end of the world in the past, they have always failed and will continue to do so. And it is truly strange phenomenon because the Bible is so very clear that no one knows the day or the hour of these events. In our lesson from Acts today, the disciples are inquiring about the end times and we hear Jesus saying, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority.” It really isn’t for us to know, but for some reason, we try anyway. We want to want to know what is going to happen and when, as if we it would give us some control.
After Jesus ascended, notice that the text in Acts notes that the disciples remained in that location, just standing there awhile, looking up into heaven. The angels had to come and ask them, “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” and commend them on their way. I believe that we too get caught or stuck, perhaps not the in the same way that Harold Camping and his group did, but like the disciples, we spend a lot of time looking in the wrong direction.
Let me give another example from our world of looking the wrong way and thereby getting “stuck” on our spiritual journeys. If you visit the Holy Land you can go to the place where it is believed that Jesus actually ascended on the Mount of Olives. There is a shrine there that has been built around the imprint of a foot: it is deeply held by many that this imprint is actually the footprint of Jesus’ right foot, his last point of physical contact with the earth. This spot has been fought over by Christians of all kinds and with the Muslims. The building itself has been destroyed and erected time and time again over the centuries. Currently the shrine is controlled by the Muslims and is called “The Chapel of the Ascension,” a spot that both Christian and Muslim pilgrims travel to see and revere it as a holy spot. Now, I must confess, I’d love to see it myself, but even if this were the actual footprint of Jesus Christ, do we really think Jesus would want us spending much time staring at his footprint to show our love and devotion for him, let alone fighting over who controls that spot?
While the example of this shrine to a footprint and Pastor Harold Camping and his followers may be extreme examples, I think they further reveal something true about us as humans: we spend our time, way too much of our time, looking for meaning or attempting to make sense of the world by looking in the wrong places. Maybe we aren’t left looking toward heaven or proof-texting the Bible or fighting over footprints, but we spend time on the internet or watching television or reading magazines and books, looking and seeking purpose, even, at times, trying to understand life and control our future. And in doing so, we miss out on the clarity of Jesus’ directives and even on the true joy and excitement of living our lives as disciples of Jesus.
Now let’s back up for a moment and examine more closely what this Feast of the Ascension is really about that we commemorate today, and see if that aids us in our search. Why is this holy day so important and what is the point behind it (if it’s not to worship a footprint)?
The Ascension commemorates the day, following Jesus’ time on earth after the resurrection, when Christ ascended back into heaven. It is one of the top holy days of the year for Christians and is also one of the truly ecumenical holy days in our calendar because it is commemorated by Christians from all different traditions, along with the major holidays like Christmas, Good Friday, and Easter. Going back as far as 1100, the feast of the Ascension and the days leading up to it were a time of solemnity because in it we remember that these were Jesus’ very last days on earth. There is a certain sorrow attached to this event, knowing that our beloved Jesus could not stay here with us forever, but had to return to the heaven. And yet, the sorrow is filled with joy, just as the cross is caught up with deep hope because Jesus’ ascension and return to heaven made the coming of the Holy Spirit possible and that lead to all kinds of new possibilities. You have probably noticed that in the Nicene Creed that we recite each Sunday we affirm the Ascension as one of the important aspects of Jesus’ life and incarnation when we say, “he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.”
And our Catechism in the Prayer Books says this: “Q: What do we mean when we say that he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father? A: We mean that Jesus took our human nature into heaven where he now reigns with the Father and intercedes for us.”
The ascension actually completes Jesus’ mission on earth, and, as the Eastern Orthodox are quick to point out, the ascension is the very culmination of the mystery of the incarnation. This is an amazing thing: Jesus did not become a human being and take on our human nature temporarily: no. Jesus took on humanity on forever and has brought our human nature into heaven itself. As the God-man, Jesus continues in this role by interceding on our behalf from heaven, the human and divine conjoined.
Additionally, following the ascension, Jesus’ physical presence was no longer confined to his person, it is now, mystically located in us, as the church, the “Body of Christ.” The incarnation continues in you and I, as baptized members of Christ’s Body who have been filled with the Holy Spirit. While on earth, Jesus could only be at one place at one time, but now Jesus is present everywhere in all his followers, throughout the entire world.
And so, in ascending, we, as disciples of Jesus, are now able to take up Christ’s call to receive the power of the Holy Spirit and to become witnesses of Christ’s love and saving power to the very ends of the earth. Our lives are full of meaning and importance: we have been given the chance to be Jesus’ body here on earth and to bring the love of Christ to all people, wherever we go, in every moment of every day. What this looks like for you may look different than what it looks like for me, but all of us share in this incredible vocation as followers of Jesus. We are witnesses everywhere we go: in the grocery store, in traffic, at home, at work, while serving refugees and the homeless, tucking a child into bed, hugging an old friend, visiting the sick, sewing a quilt, laughing with a neighbor, and comforting one who suffers. In that, Jesus is present. So, even if we do get stuck for a time and start staring in the wrong direction, losing our way or our purpose, Jesus is present to draw us back to the path.
Join in the celebration and miracle of the ascension today by lifting up your hearts… lifting them up to the Lord, and experiencing his miraculous presence in your life and in those around you.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Where is Home?
Where is “home” for you? I mean the place that really, truly feels like home, a place you could go back to at any time and still feel at home? The place in my mind that still feels like “home” after many years is the house my parents bought when I was in the second grade, up in the mountains of La Canada in Los Angeles. I lived there until I went away to college and I have gone back many times to visit for holidays and vacations. We all call it the “Ocean View house” because that‘s the name of the street, and on a clear day, you really can see all the way to the ocean, far on the other side of Los Angeles County.
What makes a place a home though? For me, as home is where I feel safe and comfortable. Nothing is odd or strange or foreign, it is all calmly familiar. There are memories attached to it, both good and bad, but a sense of peace reigns, and there are particular spots that are favorite places at home, where I always breathe a deep sigh of relief, as if, after having been lost, I am now found. At home I feel like I belong, as if I am known to my home and my home is known to me. There is a sense of loving presence at home, even if the house is empty. All pretenses are gone and I don’t have to pretend to be anything I’m not, and that’s perfectly okay. Home is a soft place to fall.
During my travels in my late twenties I went to Europe - to England and France and I will never forget the experience of getting lost in a rather industrial part of Paris. I had a really heavy backpack with all my belongings and was confused by the subway system and got off in the wrong part of the city. I wandered the streets and became lost and no one, it seemed, would speak English to me. I grew increasingly frantic and scared, thinking how foolish I was to travel around Europe by myself. I was hungry and had very little money and it was getting dark and I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Finally I came across a hotel, it was far outside my budget, but I was so desperate that I got a room for the night, just to get off the street. It took me ages just to figure out how to make a simple phone call out of the hotel and back to the US, with all the country codes and my calling card and operators speaking in French. I’ll never forget the moment I heard my mother answer the phone and say “Hello?” I couldn’t speak because the mere sound of her voice caused me to well up with deep tears and I started to sob: her voice connected me to home and I was so terribly homesick. I wanted nothing more than to be home in that moment and I realized how important home really was, for all my desire for travel and adventure.
Deep down, I think we all yearn for “home.” Something in us, deeply desires to have that sense of being at home, at a level that goes soul deep. And it’s even deeper than just a place or a house. We can find a sense of home in our family members, or with friends and people that feel like “home” to us. Over the years I have met many newcomers at the different churches and ministries I have served, and if they are searching for a new church, I always encourage them not to settle until they have sense of “home” at a particular church. That doesn’t mean it’s all positive or that there’s no challenge involved, but a sense of home is important when it comes to finding and committing to a faith community.
I’ll never forget the experience I had when I found my sponsoring parish when I first entered the Episcopal Church. I had visited many churches and sat in many pews, but the day I sat down in the middle of Trinity Cathedral in San Jose, my whole body relaxed and I took a deep breath, a sigh of relief, and seemingly melted into the pew as if I had found something I had been looking for, for a long time. The Holy Spirit was heavy in that space and the red-wood beams and stained glass were a sight for sore eyes. Joining Trinity was a decision I never regretted and knew, somewhere deep in my soul, that I had come home.
When I visited St. Alban’s in 2007 during my interviews, the first time I walked into this church there was a feeling within me, as if I had been here many times before. The same feeling occurred when I met many of you, as if I had known you for quite awhile, even though we were technically strangers. It has always felt like home here to me at St. Alban’s.
Our Scripture lessons today have something to say about this concept of home. In the lesson from First Peter, we read that we are to come to the Lord, “a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God's sight, and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house.” Peter is referring to the body of believers here, that we as a community are called to become a spiritual home, one to another, rooted and built upon the living stone: Jesus. St. Alban’s is home to many of us, and that’s because this community is built on Jesus, our living stone, and we have allowed ourselves to be built up together into a spiritual home. This is not to be taken lightly, it is a beautiful and sacred thing, a true blessing. Many, many people do not have a genuine spiritual home, and they’re lacking this blessing in their lives. And it’s a blessing even when people here may annoy or hurt us, that’s part of being in community, and learning to extend and accept grace and forgiveness. This is sacred stuff.
And then in the Gospel lesson from John, Jesus says, “In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” The idea that Jesus himself has prepared a place for us, a true home, so that we can be where he is, is tremendously comforting. We search and search for a home on this earth, and sometimes we find something pretty good, but nothing can compare to the home that God has for us, for our home with Jesus.
I enjoy a TV show called “Parks and Recreation,” and on a recent episode, a character named Leslie was struggling with a decision she had made years ago, when she had turned down a job offer in a flashier city and had remained instead in her town of Pawnee. She asked her boss to recall what his advice had been back when she was considering the other position that had helped sway her decision. He said, “I told you I didn’t care what you did.” She smiled and said, “Yeah but what did you say after that.” He said, “I told you, you will get lots of job offers, but you only have one hometown." “Yeah, that’s how I remember it” she replied. As Christians we have only one hometown: and that’s in Christ.
I deeply believe that what we are all ultimately longing for when we seek home, is that sense of unconditional love, safety, protection, of being fully known and totally accepted, and that’s something that only God in Christ can give us completely and fully. For the Christian, then, Jesus is the ultimate soft place to fall. And where Jesus is, home is. Spend time with the Lord every day, worship in God’s house every week, and allow yourselves to be built up into this spiritual home, rooted in Christ, that exists not only here, today, but into eternity with God and one another. Amen.
What makes a place a home though? For me, as home is where I feel safe and comfortable. Nothing is odd or strange or foreign, it is all calmly familiar. There are memories attached to it, both good and bad, but a sense of peace reigns, and there are particular spots that are favorite places at home, where I always breathe a deep sigh of relief, as if, after having been lost, I am now found. At home I feel like I belong, as if I am known to my home and my home is known to me. There is a sense of loving presence at home, even if the house is empty. All pretenses are gone and I don’t have to pretend to be anything I’m not, and that’s perfectly okay. Home is a soft place to fall.
During my travels in my late twenties I went to Europe - to England and France and I will never forget the experience of getting lost in a rather industrial part of Paris. I had a really heavy backpack with all my belongings and was confused by the subway system and got off in the wrong part of the city. I wandered the streets and became lost and no one, it seemed, would speak English to me. I grew increasingly frantic and scared, thinking how foolish I was to travel around Europe by myself. I was hungry and had very little money and it was getting dark and I didn’t know where to go or what to do. Finally I came across a hotel, it was far outside my budget, but I was so desperate that I got a room for the night, just to get off the street. It took me ages just to figure out how to make a simple phone call out of the hotel and back to the US, with all the country codes and my calling card and operators speaking in French. I’ll never forget the moment I heard my mother answer the phone and say “Hello?” I couldn’t speak because the mere sound of her voice caused me to well up with deep tears and I started to sob: her voice connected me to home and I was so terribly homesick. I wanted nothing more than to be home in that moment and I realized how important home really was, for all my desire for travel and adventure.
Deep down, I think we all yearn for “home.” Something in us, deeply desires to have that sense of being at home, at a level that goes soul deep. And it’s even deeper than just a place or a house. We can find a sense of home in our family members, or with friends and people that feel like “home” to us. Over the years I have met many newcomers at the different churches and ministries I have served, and if they are searching for a new church, I always encourage them not to settle until they have sense of “home” at a particular church. That doesn’t mean it’s all positive or that there’s no challenge involved, but a sense of home is important when it comes to finding and committing to a faith community.
I’ll never forget the experience I had when I found my sponsoring parish when I first entered the Episcopal Church. I had visited many churches and sat in many pews, but the day I sat down in the middle of Trinity Cathedral in San Jose, my whole body relaxed and I took a deep breath, a sigh of relief, and seemingly melted into the pew as if I had found something I had been looking for, for a long time. The Holy Spirit was heavy in that space and the red-wood beams and stained glass were a sight for sore eyes. Joining Trinity was a decision I never regretted and knew, somewhere deep in my soul, that I had come home.
When I visited St. Alban’s in 2007 during my interviews, the first time I walked into this church there was a feeling within me, as if I had been here many times before. The same feeling occurred when I met many of you, as if I had known you for quite awhile, even though we were technically strangers. It has always felt like home here to me at St. Alban’s.
Our Scripture lessons today have something to say about this concept of home. In the lesson from First Peter, we read that we are to come to the Lord, “a living stone, though rejected by mortals yet chosen and precious in God's sight, and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house.” Peter is referring to the body of believers here, that we as a community are called to become a spiritual home, one to another, rooted and built upon the living stone: Jesus. St. Alban’s is home to many of us, and that’s because this community is built on Jesus, our living stone, and we have allowed ourselves to be built up together into a spiritual home. This is not to be taken lightly, it is a beautiful and sacred thing, a true blessing. Many, many people do not have a genuine spiritual home, and they’re lacking this blessing in their lives. And it’s a blessing even when people here may annoy or hurt us, that’s part of being in community, and learning to extend and accept grace and forgiveness. This is sacred stuff.
And then in the Gospel lesson from John, Jesus says, “In my Father's house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” The idea that Jesus himself has prepared a place for us, a true home, so that we can be where he is, is tremendously comforting. We search and search for a home on this earth, and sometimes we find something pretty good, but nothing can compare to the home that God has for us, for our home with Jesus.
I enjoy a TV show called “Parks and Recreation,” and on a recent episode, a character named Leslie was struggling with a decision she had made years ago, when she had turned down a job offer in a flashier city and had remained instead in her town of Pawnee. She asked her boss to recall what his advice had been back when she was considering the other position that had helped sway her decision. He said, “I told you I didn’t care what you did.” She smiled and said, “Yeah but what did you say after that.” He said, “I told you, you will get lots of job offers, but you only have one hometown." “Yeah, that’s how I remember it” she replied. As Christians we have only one hometown: and that’s in Christ.
I deeply believe that what we are all ultimately longing for when we seek home, is that sense of unconditional love, safety, protection, of being fully known and totally accepted, and that’s something that only God in Christ can give us completely and fully. For the Christian, then, Jesus is the ultimate soft place to fall. And where Jesus is, home is. Spend time with the Lord every day, worship in God’s house every week, and allow yourselves to be built up into this spiritual home, rooted in Christ, that exists not only here, today, but into eternity with God and one another. Amen.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Grief and The Good Shepherd
Following the very difficult announcement I made to the Vestry last Tuesday evening that my family would be leaving San Diego and hence, I must resign as Rector of St. Alban’s, Canon Suzi told us, “You are now a parish in transition.” Transition means movement and change, a shifting from one state into the next, and it is the in-between time of that change: as one Vestry member quickly chirped, “Yeah, but I don’t like change.” Indeed, I can’t say many of us do.
This week I have been reflecting on the several Rectors who have served St. Alban’s in the past 35 years. I had the honor of knowing Fr. Treat, who was here for 22 years as Rector and was the Rector Emeritus when I came in 2007. I have a very precious memory of Fr. Treat at my Celebration of New Ministry. He was joking with me before the service with the very dry sense of humor he had, allowing me to shake the butterflies welling up in my stomach before the big event. And then I heard his heartfelt and solemn reading of my Letter of Institution as your Rector. It is such a good memory. I thought of him again as I read the Scripture texts for this week, noting that today is Good Shepherd Sunday and Fr. Treat, who was himself such a very good shepherd of this congregation, died on Good Shepherd Sunday two years ago. His love and legacy continues and since Fr. Treat, St. Alban’s has had 3 rectors, including myself.
Rectors are the pastors of the people in their charge, and the word pastor is a Latin word for “shepherd.” Christian ministers took on the term and title of shepherd after Jesus’ directive to Peter and the apostles to “shepherd my sheep” in the Gospel of John and following St. Paul’s exhortation to the leaders of the church in Acts to “shepherd the flock of God among them.” Pastors, of course, come in all shapes and sizes, with varying gifts and weaknesses, but hopefully, by God’s grace, they are meant to serve faithfully to bring about God’s will in the mission and ministry of the church in partnership with the members. It is a wonderful and sacred gift, and one I have treasured dearly here at St. Alban’s because of you all.
I was visiting a very old, historic church and I saw there a wall of photos of all the rectors that had ever served that parish, as many Episcopal Churches have. There were a lot of pictures, maybe 20 or so faces hanging with their dates below them. The Rector pointed out to me the varying terms that they had served, a few for just one or two years, some for four or five, and others for over a decade or more. I thought of St. Alban’s and what our wall would look like, and I noted how St. Alban’s has had a similar history of both short, medium, and long term rectors, and I even pondered what my dates would be….2007 to when? “Only God knows,” I thought.
But I the photos reminded me that all rectors are ultimately temporary shepherds and that there is only one true and lasting shepherd- the Good Shepherd, Jesus himself, who is the shepherd and guardian of our very souls. The Good Shepherd of St. Alban’s has always been here and will never leave, and that is why churches like St. Alban’s have continued to grow and thrive throughout the decades and even the centuries, they are following the Good Shepherd.
The role of course, as the sheep, is to listen for the voice of our Good Shepherd, who calls us each by name and “leads us out,” as Jesus says in our Gospel today. My family and I have had several months of seeking to listen and hear the Good Shepherd’s voice regarding out future, and I can tell you that is not always easy to listen, especially when it sounds like he is leading you away from some place you love. In fact, in looking at my own journey since early March, when Salvatore was offered the position as a post-doctoral research fellow at Washington University in St. Louis, I can track in myself the several stages of grief that hit since our own transition began.
The first stage of grief is shock and denial, and that was certainly my first reaction: “I don’t and can’t believe,” I thought, “that this is happening.” I was denying the fact that all of us would have to leave St. Alban’s and the San Diego area, where we are very happy. I love being the Rector of St. Alban’s, it has always felt like God’s hand had guided us together and that it is a wonderful fit. That’s just not something I’ve doubted and I have grown to love and become deeply attached to you all. So, that was definitely stage one for me, shock and denial.
The second stage is pain and guilt and it started for me when we began to really talk about what was best for our family given the news before us; it became clear that I needed to think about leaving soon, and then the pain really hit. I started to use the word “grief” when I spoke of it to my friends, especially as I contemplated having to resign. And guilt fell closely behind because of course, as your pastor, I don’t want to leave and I certainly don’t want to cause any amount of pain to any of you! Plus the guilt over all the things I didn’t do that I wanted to do or could have done but didn’t, of wanting to stay longer, and all of my own shortcomings related to my own limits and weaknesses as a priest and pastor. I am and have been far from perfect.
But by April I was in the third stage of grief: anger and bargaining. I was angry that things had not worked out for Salvatore’s very, very promising career as a gifted doctor of psychology since earning his PhD and angry that this meant our family would either have to be separated or that I would have to leave California and St. Alban’s: “two,” as I told God, “very terrible options!” I told God then, and only now do I see it as bargaining, that unless God opened a door for me in full time ministry, which, I figured, was going to take at least a year, I couldn’t possibly leave.
And then it didn’t work like that. That is when I hit the fourth stage of grief: depression, reflection, and loneliness, which I am still going through on this roller coaster of emotions. Once the transition and move became more real and tangible, I started to feel depressed, found myself reflecting a lot on what it all meant, and began feeling like no one could possibly understand what I was experiencing. And then the “possible” door for ministry opened itself this past weekend, when I was formally offered a new position to be on staff of a large and wonderful parish in the suburbs of St. Louis.
You can only imagine my feelings when I called the Bishop’s office and began planning last Tuesday’s Vestry meeting. You could say I entered that meeting with “fear and trembling” – although, of course, the dear Vestry was beyond gracious and loving. Canon Suzi, who was also present at the meeting, commented on how much care and compassion exuded from our Vestry members, and she is absolutely right. “That,” I told her, “is why I came here!” St. Alban’s is in good hands with so many gifted lay leaders and a very caring staff at the Bishop’s Office.
I suppose the good news in all these stages of grief is that the next step of grief is the “upward turn” where an adjustment starts to take place, followed by the sixth step of reconstruction and working through, and finally, the seventh and last step of grief: acceptance and hope. We each go through these stages at different paces, but we do have to hit each one to get to the next. Sometimes we move back and forth as well, which I have also been experiencing.
All of us who have experienced grief know that we will get through it eventually, that in God’s gracious plan there are steps to our grief that eventually lead to hope. Jesus is calling to us even now, calling us by name, waiting for us to hear him. Unlike the thief, Jesus tells us, he “came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” My friends, my flock (for 8 more weeks), my beloved brothers and sisters in Christ: my prayer and hope for you is that you all will continue to follow the Good Shepherd, just as you have, to have his life and to have it abundantly (not just a tiny bit, not just to survive, but to have it in great and magnificent abundance, with overflowing). Because Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is here, he is leading the way, and we are blessed in and by one another, as members of his beloved flock.
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