(Report from Thursday)
I must apologize for a lack of time (and open eyes) to commit to writing all the details of today's events. I took the day "easy," but I'm still exhausted!
This General Convention has healthily undertaken to use conversation and storytelling as a means by which to discuss both our individual/collective calls to mission and our feelings on certain controversial issues facing our church. This morning held the first of our three "Mission Conversations." I served as a coach for the conversation - which utilized a practice called "Public Narrative" - and worked with some members of the Diocese of Atlanta. I very much enjoyed getting to know them and hearing their stories, though I feel I failed them as a coach in a few ways. I really just love hearing people talk about their lives and experiences, so I forget that my role is really to help them focus their thoughts and uncover an impact-ful story. The stories are meant to be motivating and persuasive - calls to action. I don't think I helped them learn to develop their stories in that way - just yet. I tried my best. I need to work on coaching.
I received lots of positive feedback on my testimony to the Committee on Prayer Book and Liturgy. People said thank you many times over, and I am very glad I had the strength to speak to the matter. Jewish-Christian Relations (and interfaith relations in general) are one of my passions.
I co-signed on a new resolution that was just drafted yesterday; I will post more information on the resolution as soon as it is distributed in hard-copy. The resolution speaks to the gross expenditures of this Convention - what with deputies staying in luxury hotels and eating lavish meals, using the newest technology and amenities. (I don't know how many millions are being spent on this Convention). I will vote for the passage of the resolution, though I do not think it will be popular with the houses. For the largest bicameral legislature in the world, we really do need lots of technology to carry on our work. However, we don't need luxury hotels. Maybe this resolution will be more of a call to conscience. I hope so.
The most exciting part of the day was the beginning of the "Committee of the Whole" - a special order of business to discuss, without legislation, a matter before the house. We are discussing the resolutions that concern Resolution 2006 B033, which called for a moratorium on the election of bishops with suspect "manners of life." There has been a lot of pain for the past three years over that Resolution, from both conservatives and liberals. There are more than five resolutions before this Convention that call for the repeal of B033. It is going to be interesting to see what happens with respect to those resolutions. There are several paths we could take:
1. No action
2. Vote to uphold B033
3. Vote to repeal B033
4. Construct new resolutions (particularly ones that affirm that we have partnered gay and lesbian people serving in all offices of the church, already, and that we re-affirm our place and relationship in and with the rest of the Anglican Communion)
As part of the process we're engaging to discuss B033, members of the World Missions Legislative Committee addressed the house with the committee's report. They gave the history of B033, the actions that have taken place in TEC and the Anglican Communion since 2003, and gave their opinions of possible ways forward. The final part of the address was to ask each member of the House of Deputies to rise up out of their seats, and go sit next to someone they did not know. We were given 30 minutes for conversation with this person. Three questions were presented as a way to focus our conversation, but primarily, the 30 minutes were wide open.
I spoke to a priest from the Diocese of West Virginia named Kevin. When he entered seminary, he told me, he had been opposed even to the ordination of women. He had a change of heart and mind while at seminary, realizing that he had no good reason for believing the sacrament of ordination should be withheld from anyone - women, or a gay person, celibate or partnered. Jesus' commandments do not support that. We had a very fruitful and meaningful conversation. I shared my story of Poland with him, and he helped me parse through my feelings on B033 and other matters relating to LGBT Episcopalians and same-sex relationships.
Immediately after the House adjourn, the "lottery" opened for the chance to address the House during the entire Committee of the Whole discussion. I felt moved to go get a number to see if I might choose a low enough number to be able to address the House. I pulled 17. It looks as though I might have the chance to address the House of Deputies. (woah). I'm going to spend the morning sifting through my thoughts and try to construct something that needs to be said. There is so much that others say - much more eloquently, with personality, humor, and poignancy - what can I say?
Friday, July 10, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Hearing on A091: Dismantling Christian Anti-Judaism
I testified today at the Committee on Prayer Book and Liturgy. Here is the text of my witness:
I want to address Resolution A091 – Dismantling Christian Anti-Judaism - as it speaks to a large part of my spiritual formation – a part in which the church had no role.
My college registrar discovered early on that I was stubborn. When I entered his office to register for my first semester, he encouraged me to take intro-level classes. I refused to take Intro to Poetry; instead, I was unbending in my desire to enroll in "Jewish-Christian Relations." I trotted to the professor's office for a course pass. "I don't know if you're ready for a class like this," he said, hesitating while handing over a course pass. I didn't realize what he meant until mid-semester.
I soon learned that the class should have a subtitle: A History of Christian Hatred of the Jews. We read Carroll's Constantine's Sword, Flannery's The Anguish of the Jews, along with about 1000 pages of other scholarly publications on the subject. By the end of freshman year, I knew too well the anti-Jewish vitriole of St. John Chrysostom and Martin Luther. I continue to have trouble with St. Augustine, whose theologized justification for the Jews' status as a pariah people excused centuries of hatred, culminating in crusades and pogroms.
In May 2006, I traveled to Poland on a program called "The March of Remembrance and Hope," and visited Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Madajnek, traveling with other students and faculty and two survivors. On the last day of the week-long journey, I stood in a gas chamber in Madajnek. I hadn't cried once on the trip, but here I broke into uncontrollable sobbing. I collapsed against the walls of the death chamber, where victims had scraped their fingers bloody trying to escape the lethal gases. I wish that fellow Episcopalians had been there with me. It was a vital moment in my faith journey, and the church was markedly absent.
It is not possible to encounter the history of the Holocaust, of Christian Europe, or of our Faith without taking into account the trajectory of anti-Judaism – from its ancient origins to the Holocaust. We are called today to both extirpate anti-Judaism from our liturgies, and be forthright and honest in our discussion of the hateful language contained in our scriptures. The budget allocation for the work of this resolution is appropriate and necessary, though I pray for the consideration of a more generous amount.
I will conclude with a quote from Jules Isaac, author of Jesus and Israel:
“The glow of the Auschwitz crematorium is the beacon that lights, that guides all my thoughts. Oh, my Jewish brothers, and you as well, my Christian brothers, do you not think that it mingles with another glow, that of the cross?”
I want to address Resolution A091 – Dismantling Christian Anti-Judaism - as it speaks to a large part of my spiritual formation – a part in which the church had no role.
My college registrar discovered early on that I was stubborn. When I entered his office to register for my first semester, he encouraged me to take intro-level classes. I refused to take Intro to Poetry; instead, I was unbending in my desire to enroll in "Jewish-Christian Relations." I trotted to the professor's office for a course pass. "I don't know if you're ready for a class like this," he said, hesitating while handing over a course pass. I didn't realize what he meant until mid-semester.
I soon learned that the class should have a subtitle: A History of Christian Hatred of the Jews. We read Carroll's Constantine's Sword, Flannery's The Anguish of the Jews, along with about 1000 pages of other scholarly publications on the subject. By the end of freshman year, I knew too well the anti-Jewish vitriole of St. John Chrysostom and Martin Luther. I continue to have trouble with St. Augustine, whose theologized justification for the Jews' status as a pariah people excused centuries of hatred, culminating in crusades and pogroms.
In May 2006, I traveled to Poland on a program called "The March of Remembrance and Hope," and visited Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Madajnek, traveling with other students and faculty and two survivors. On the last day of the week-long journey, I stood in a gas chamber in Madajnek. I hadn't cried once on the trip, but here I broke into uncontrollable sobbing. I collapsed against the walls of the death chamber, where victims had scraped their fingers bloody trying to escape the lethal gases. I wish that fellow Episcopalians had been there with me. It was a vital moment in my faith journey, and the church was markedly absent.
It is not possible to encounter the history of the Holocaust, of Christian Europe, or of our Faith without taking into account the trajectory of anti-Judaism – from its ancient origins to the Holocaust. We are called today to both extirpate anti-Judaism from our liturgies, and be forthright and honest in our discussion of the hateful language contained in our scriptures. The budget allocation for the work of this resolution is appropriate and necessary, though I pray for the consideration of a more generous amount.
I will conclude with a quote from Jules Isaac, author of Jesus and Israel:
“The glow of the Auschwitz crematorium is the beacon that lights, that guides all my thoughts. Oh, my Jewish brothers, and you as well, my Christian brothers, do you not think that it mingles with another glow, that of the cross?”
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Committee on World Mission
I am sitting now in the conference room where the Legislative Committee on World Mission is meeting. The public hearing of Resolutions A039, A133, A189, C053, D026 and D027 just finished. I spoke to Resolution A039 in very poor fashion (I have learned now not to enjoy libations prior to attending evening committee hearings), primarily TRYING to state that I would hope that A039 would remain within the World Missions Committee, as it indirectly concerns the work of interfaith initiatives of the Anglican Diocese of Jerusalem. It is now being recommended for discharge and re-referral to National/International Concerns Committee. (I should not have said anything, or rather, should have spoken to my experience of Palestine and Morocco. I lost that opportunity).
Back to listening to the business of the committee.
Back to listening to the business of the committee.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Arrival in Anaheim
I arrived in Anaheim yesterday evening around 6:00pm, and spent a relaxing evening with my friend Carly (with whom I lived in Morocco) and her family. My night was filled with lively conversation and fresh tomatoes, basil, and buffalo mozzarella, amazing olive oil and balsamic vinegar, sparkling wine, red wine, chicken and pea risotto and goat cheese, and finished with homemade peach pie and ice cream. WHAT an evening. (For me - a major vacation; for Carly's family - totally normal. Did I mention they grow their own tomatoes - tons of varieties - lemons, tangerines, and figs? And herbs?!?!?!?! Absolute heaven).
Today Carly and I visited Galco's - a shop dedicated wholly to sodas. I bought blueberry soda, cucumber soda, "Rat Bastard Root Beer" (really- that's the name), and Leninade - the drink of the Proletariat. Ha! Fantastic experience. We ate lunch at Lemongrass Vietnamese Restaurant, which was delicious.
Carly dropped me off at the Hilton around 4:15pm, and I quickly checked into my room and walked with Bungee over to the Convention Center to register. We peeked inside the House of Deputies - a cavernous expanse of a room. I should have brought binoculars. This will be QUITE an experience.
The Lexington deputation held a caucus at 6:00pm (where we divvied up money and made a shopping list for the liquor store), and I ate dinner with Kay, Ann Davis, and Bungee. All in all, a fantastic and fun day.
Early to rise tomorrow morning so I can exercise before attending a 4 hour (4 hours?!?!?!?!) New Deputy Orientation.
Good night.
Today Carly and I visited Galco's - a shop dedicated wholly to sodas. I bought blueberry soda, cucumber soda, "Rat Bastard Root Beer" (really- that's the name), and Leninade - the drink of the Proletariat. Ha! Fantastic experience. We ate lunch at Lemongrass Vietnamese Restaurant, which was delicious.
Carly dropped me off at the Hilton around 4:15pm, and I quickly checked into my room and walked with Bungee over to the Convention Center to register. We peeked inside the House of Deputies - a cavernous expanse of a room. I should have brought binoculars. This will be QUITE an experience.
The Lexington deputation held a caucus at 6:00pm (where we divvied up money and made a shopping list for the liquor store), and I ate dinner with Kay, Ann Davis, and Bungee. All in all, a fantastic and fun day.
Early to rise tomorrow morning so I can exercise before attending a 4 hour (4 hours?!?!?!?!) New Deputy Orientation.
Good night.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
The problem with anthropology
"Carry my bags, Sacagawea."
I'm spending time with my friend Carly's family, drinking wine and talking social injustice.
"So now you know the story of why anthropology no longer exists."
It's now critical theory.
I'm spending time with my friend Carly's family, drinking wine and talking social injustice.
"So now you know the story of why anthropology no longer exists."
It's now critical theory.
Dismantling Christian Anti-Judaism
I'm a very stubborn person, and when I discover an opportunity that I deem necessary for my personal development at a certain point in time, I am relentless in my quest to benefit from said opportunity. This was how I began my college experience: I didn't want to listen to the wise suggestions of my faculty advisor; instead, I wanted to take Jewish-Christian Relations, an upper-level course that, while having no stated prerequisites, would be difficult, time-consuming, and presumably far outside the skill set of an eighteen-year-old first-year student. Oh well, I told my advisor and the registrar. I'm taking it anyway. "Fine," the registrar replied, "but you need to go talk to the professor."
The professor was one Dr. Paul Jones, whose wife had been a friend of my mother's for years. I figured that the family connection would help me in getting a spot in the class. We had a short chat in which he told me that he didn't know if I was ready for such a class as this. This made me all the more eager to take the class; I like meeting challenges and coming up against obstacles others don't think I can tackle. I told him how hard I would work, how interested I was in the subject. He finally assented, and I trotted back to the Registrar's Office with a beloved purple course pass in hand (the first of many I would attain throughout my college career).
I went into Jewish-Christian Relations thinking I would learn something about Judaism, which had fascinated me since I was very young. However, I soon learned that the class should have a subtitle: Jewish-Christian Relations: A History of Christian Hatred of the Jews. We read Carroll's Constantine's Sword: The Church and the Jews, Flannery's The Anguish of the Jews: Twenty-Three Centuries of Antisemitism, along with about 1000 pages of miscellaneous articles and scholarly publications on the subject. We read the anti-Jewish vitriole of St. John Chrysostom (this is the same man whose prayer is recorded in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer - The Prayer of St. Chrysostom; he wrote specific adversus judaeos- against the Jews- literature), Martin Luther (read Luther's "The Jews and Their Lies"), and the writings of men such as St. Augustine, who theologized the justification for the continued status of the Jews as a pariah people - despised, hated, discriminated, and the future subjects of numerous crusades and pogroms.
My early college experience was a full year of nothing but the study of Christian anti-Judaism - of this dark underside of the history of my faith, this horrendous skeleton in the closet. At the end of freshman year, I traveled to Poland on a program called "The March of Remembrance and Hope," and visited Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Madajnek, traveling with other college students and faculty on a bus with two Holocaust survivors. At age nineteen, I stood in a gas chamber in Madajnek and felt the weight of history upon my shoulders, as I looked at the blood-stained walls, where victims had scraped their fingers bloody trying to escape the caustic lethal gases. I learned and know that it is not possible to encounter the history of the Holocaust, the history of Christian Europe (the small Polish town of Lublin sits right outside the Madajnek death camp; there are reports of the ashes of those murdered blowing through the windows and into the homes of Polish families as they sat down to supper; Lubliners could smell the burning flesh), or the history of Christianity without taking into account the long trajectory of theologized hatred, discrimination, violence, and killing of the Jews from its beginnings - the early Church Fathers - through to the Holocaust. Even if it were possible to remove Luther's anti-Jewish diatribes from the history (it is not; Hitler used Luther's words in his anti-semitic rhetoric), Christians in 2009 still must answer to the inaction and "bystander behavior" of millions of Christians in Nazi Europe. Further, we must contend with the fact that millions of our brothers and sisters in Christ were members of the Nazi party, and a number of those Christian Nazis worked in the death camps. Remove the historical trajectory that led up to the Holocaust, and Christians still must deal with the evil - the blackest sins - that their brothers and sisters in Christ committed during the reign of the Nazi party.
I am pleased that the Episcopal Church is contending with this history and with remnants of anti-Jewish language that remain in our liturgies. I pray that deputies and bishops will vote to pass resolution A091, "Dismantle Christian Anti-Judaism."
For further reading on this subject, please see:
From Intra-Jewish Polemics to Persecution: The Christian Formation of the Jew as Religious Other
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa4044/is_200604/ai_n16452274/
This article is by professor Dr. Paul Jones, and was published in Encounter, Spring 2006. Refer to his extensive bibliography for even more reading.
The text of the Resolution:
Resolution: A091
Title: Dismantle Christian Anti-Judaism
Topic: Discrimination
Committee: 13 - Prayer Book, Liturgy and Church Music
House of Initial Action: Bishops
Proposer: Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music
Resolved, the House of _______ concurring, That the 76th General Convention direct the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music to continue to collect, develop and disseminate materials that assist members of the Church to address Christian anti-Judaism expressed in and stirred by portions of Christian scriptures and liturgical texts, including the preparation of a pamphlet explaining Christian anti-Judaism and ways to address it in teaching, evangelism, and congregational life; the development of age-appropriate educational materials for children; the identification and evaluation of available resources pertaining to liturgy and music, giving special attention to Holy Week and Easter liturgies and to the diverse traditions of song in The Episcopal Church; and to report the results of its efforts to the 77th General Convention; and be it further
Resolved, That the 76th General Convention request that the Theology Committee of the House of Bishops develop, in consultation with the Standing Commissions on Liturgy and Music and on Ecumenical and Interreligious Relations, a statement defining Christian anti-Judaism and why it demands our attention, and to report to the 77th General Convention; and be it further
Resolved, That the 76th General Convention direct the Joint Standing Committee on Program, Budget and Finance to consider a budget allocation of $10,000.00 for implementation of this Resolution.
The professor was one Dr. Paul Jones, whose wife had been a friend of my mother's for years. I figured that the family connection would help me in getting a spot in the class. We had a short chat in which he told me that he didn't know if I was ready for such a class as this. This made me all the more eager to take the class; I like meeting challenges and coming up against obstacles others don't think I can tackle. I told him how hard I would work, how interested I was in the subject. He finally assented, and I trotted back to the Registrar's Office with a beloved purple course pass in hand (the first of many I would attain throughout my college career).
I went into Jewish-Christian Relations thinking I would learn something about Judaism, which had fascinated me since I was very young. However, I soon learned that the class should have a subtitle: Jewish-Christian Relations: A History of Christian Hatred of the Jews. We read Carroll's Constantine's Sword: The Church and the Jews, Flannery's The Anguish of the Jews: Twenty-Three Centuries of Antisemitism, along with about 1000 pages of miscellaneous articles and scholarly publications on the subject. We read the anti-Jewish vitriole of St. John Chrysostom (this is the same man whose prayer is recorded in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer - The Prayer of St. Chrysostom; he wrote specific adversus judaeos- against the Jews- literature), Martin Luther (read Luther's "The Jews and Their Lies"), and the writings of men such as St. Augustine, who theologized the justification for the continued status of the Jews as a pariah people - despised, hated, discriminated, and the future subjects of numerous crusades and pogroms.
My early college experience was a full year of nothing but the study of Christian anti-Judaism - of this dark underside of the history of my faith, this horrendous skeleton in the closet. At the end of freshman year, I traveled to Poland on a program called "The March of Remembrance and Hope," and visited Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Madajnek, traveling with other college students and faculty on a bus with two Holocaust survivors. At age nineteen, I stood in a gas chamber in Madajnek and felt the weight of history upon my shoulders, as I looked at the blood-stained walls, where victims had scraped their fingers bloody trying to escape the caustic lethal gases. I learned and know that it is not possible to encounter the history of the Holocaust, the history of Christian Europe (the small Polish town of Lublin sits right outside the Madajnek death camp; there are reports of the ashes of those murdered blowing through the windows and into the homes of Polish families as they sat down to supper; Lubliners could smell the burning flesh), or the history of Christianity without taking into account the long trajectory of theologized hatred, discrimination, violence, and killing of the Jews from its beginnings - the early Church Fathers - through to the Holocaust. Even if it were possible to remove Luther's anti-Jewish diatribes from the history (it is not; Hitler used Luther's words in his anti-semitic rhetoric), Christians in 2009 still must answer to the inaction and "bystander behavior" of millions of Christians in Nazi Europe. Further, we must contend with the fact that millions of our brothers and sisters in Christ were members of the Nazi party, and a number of those Christian Nazis worked in the death camps. Remove the historical trajectory that led up to the Holocaust, and Christians still must deal with the evil - the blackest sins - that their brothers and sisters in Christ committed during the reign of the Nazi party.
I am pleased that the Episcopal Church is contending with this history and with remnants of anti-Jewish language that remain in our liturgies. I pray that deputies and bishops will vote to pass resolution A091, "Dismantle Christian Anti-Judaism."
For further reading on this subject, please see:
From Intra-Jewish Polemics to Persecution: The Christian Formation of the Jew as Religious Other
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa4044/is_200604/ai_n16452274/
This article is by professor Dr. Paul Jones, and was published in Encounter, Spring 2006. Refer to his extensive bibliography for even more reading.
The text of the Resolution:
Resolution: A091
Title: Dismantle Christian Anti-Judaism
Topic: Discrimination
Committee: 13 - Prayer Book, Liturgy and Church Music
House of Initial Action: Bishops
Proposer: Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music
Resolved, the House of _______ concurring, That the 76th General Convention direct the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music to continue to collect, develop and disseminate materials that assist members of the Church to address Christian anti-Judaism expressed in and stirred by portions of Christian scriptures and liturgical texts, including the preparation of a pamphlet explaining Christian anti-Judaism and ways to address it in teaching, evangelism, and congregational life; the development of age-appropriate educational materials for children; the identification and evaluation of available resources pertaining to liturgy and music, giving special attention to Holy Week and Easter liturgies and to the diverse traditions of song in The Episcopal Church; and to report the results of its efforts to the 77th General Convention; and be it further
Resolved, That the 76th General Convention request that the Theology Committee of the House of Bishops develop, in consultation with the Standing Commissions on Liturgy and Music and on Ecumenical and Interreligious Relations, a statement defining Christian anti-Judaism and why it demands our attention, and to report to the 77th General Convention; and be it further
Resolved, That the 76th General Convention direct the Joint Standing Committee on Program, Budget and Finance to consider a budget allocation of $10,000.00 for implementation of this Resolution.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
God of diversity and difference
When I was at Province IV Synod at Kanuga a few weeks ago, I scribbled - middle school note-passing style - the following comment to a slightly older and much wiser member of Lexington's deputation:
"I think that members of other, more charismatic Christian churches are far more accustomed to speaking openly about their faith and a transformational experience of the divine than Episcopalians are."
She agreed. We had just begun training for our Province's Public Narrative discussions, and the process was being met with some resistance. In the end, my Public Narrative experience at Kanuga (I was a coach for the Diocese of East Carolina - a wonderful group with lively and passionate stories and discussion) was uplifting and encouraging - a great way to get to know people and find commonality through our different experiences of call to mission.
I offer this memory by way of addressing the events of my day, which were highly emotional, intense, and new. I didn't observe the personal "testimony" (public narrative) of a member of a charismatic congregation, but I feel as though I witnessed the unspoken "Public Narratives" of a whole family. Today I attended the funeral of a dear friend's aunt, and I am now sitting in my darkened living room processing the experience and my thoughts.
The church was a small, bare-walled and sparsely decorated building - a simple meeting house. The congregation was large - large family and an incredible number of friends and community members. I sat amidst the family, who, to set the stage a little more, had experienced another loss just a few year's prior. They have experienced a great deal of grief, an unfair and unnecessary amount. It was moving to be with them, knowing a little of the great sadness they have lived in the last decade.
To turn to self-analyzation, however, the most moving and extraordinary part of the day was the realization of the love and warm welcome the family has given me over the last few years, despite our differences. The religious heritage of my friend's family is Bible-based, charismatic, and highly emotional. This spiritual tradition is visceral, impassioned, overwhelming and powerful -- wholly different from the liturgical, structured rubric of Episcopal worship. The language of today's eulogies, sermons and prayers could not be more different from that of the Episcopal church's scripted homilies and cool and calculated Book of Common Prayer. I was a fish out of water, keenly aware that I may not have bowed my head deeply enough or displayed enough faithful fervor. Thank God no one seemed to notice and while I felt that at any moment someone might ask if I had been "saved," I continued to feel welcome nonetheless.
In my Episcopal upbringing, never was I introduced to the concept of being "saved." I heard about "saved-ness" on Adventures in Odyssey audio tapes, which my mother bought for me at the local Christian bookstore, but I think I separated that experience of Christianity from my Episcopal experience, even as a young child. Episcopalians just don't talk that way; we are grafted onto the body of Christ at baptism and reaffirm our membership in Christ's body at confirmation, not to mention at regular eucharists. We don't have a "saved" experience; I guess we just realize that we are.
So today, while realized that I was very different because I wasn't necessarily "saved" per the understood definition of the members there present, I also recalled my formerly acute awareness that for members of churches where being "saved" is paramount, the Episcopal Church, with its very calm and collected manner of prayer and worship, is suspect and even downright un-faithful. As foreign as today's unscripted sermons and prayers were to me, I was struck during the funeral service how alien my "brand" of Christianity might be to these worshipers. I have existed for several years in an almost entirely demythologized world, having removed all the fantastical faith stories from the core of my spirituality and concentrating solely on here-and-now based calls to live out by Baptismal Covenant. (I think this might be common for many Episcopalians and other "progressive" Christians). Today, however, I was reminded of the New Jerusalem, of the very deep and wide river of stories and experiences that have grounded me within the Christian tradition, and have allowed me to understand - in a small way - the religious experiences of those who span the whole Christian spectrum. I understand my role in the ancient-to-modern flow of Christianity in a unique way, but I quietly and privately reaffirmed the importance of Biblical stories to my faith life. I feel invigorated by this renewed commitment to living within the religious heritage of the Bible - of the ancient Israelites, early Jews, early Jewish-Christians, and Pauline Christians.
This family's hope in the saving power of God in Christ is staggering, their ability to live through sorrow and overcome it with an increasing love of God, an ever-growing belief in His goodness, and a heightened sense of compassion is positively astounding. I am humbled by their faith, dumbfounded by their resilience.
Moreover, I am unbelievably thankful for the work of God's hand in my life - for the people He has put in my path to form me, shape me, and change me. I am undeserving, and overwhelmed by grace. These are things I might need to get more used to saying - for years I have avoided the term "grace."
I pray for the Episcopal Church and the deputations at Convention - that we may find cause to welcome each other (including all the baptized to all the sacraments of the Church) in Christian love. If I learned anything from today's events - from the funeral service, from the preacher, from the family - it is that our differences are NO excuse for a lack of compassion, understanding, love, or welcome.
Heavenly Father,
May the Episcopal Church learn to welcome and respect the dignity of all people. May we learn to love and serve those whom we perceive as different from us. May we discern the will of the Holy Spirit as it moves at Convention and in our lives.
May all that we do be to pursue Your will and Your love.
Amen.
"I think that members of other, more charismatic Christian churches are far more accustomed to speaking openly about their faith and a transformational experience of the divine than Episcopalians are."
She agreed. We had just begun training for our Province's Public Narrative discussions, and the process was being met with some resistance. In the end, my Public Narrative experience at Kanuga (I was a coach for the Diocese of East Carolina - a wonderful group with lively and passionate stories and discussion) was uplifting and encouraging - a great way to get to know people and find commonality through our different experiences of call to mission.
I offer this memory by way of addressing the events of my day, which were highly emotional, intense, and new. I didn't observe the personal "testimony" (public narrative) of a member of a charismatic congregation, but I feel as though I witnessed the unspoken "Public Narratives" of a whole family. Today I attended the funeral of a dear friend's aunt, and I am now sitting in my darkened living room processing the experience and my thoughts.
The church was a small, bare-walled and sparsely decorated building - a simple meeting house. The congregation was large - large family and an incredible number of friends and community members. I sat amidst the family, who, to set the stage a little more, had experienced another loss just a few year's prior. They have experienced a great deal of grief, an unfair and unnecessary amount. It was moving to be with them, knowing a little of the great sadness they have lived in the last decade.
To turn to self-analyzation, however, the most moving and extraordinary part of the day was the realization of the love and warm welcome the family has given me over the last few years, despite our differences. The religious heritage of my friend's family is Bible-based, charismatic, and highly emotional. This spiritual tradition is visceral, impassioned, overwhelming and powerful -- wholly different from the liturgical, structured rubric of Episcopal worship. The language of today's eulogies, sermons and prayers could not be more different from that of the Episcopal church's scripted homilies and cool and calculated Book of Common Prayer. I was a fish out of water, keenly aware that I may not have bowed my head deeply enough or displayed enough faithful fervor. Thank God no one seemed to notice and while I felt that at any moment someone might ask if I had been "saved," I continued to feel welcome nonetheless.
In my Episcopal upbringing, never was I introduced to the concept of being "saved." I heard about "saved-ness" on Adventures in Odyssey audio tapes, which my mother bought for me at the local Christian bookstore, but I think I separated that experience of Christianity from my Episcopal experience, even as a young child. Episcopalians just don't talk that way; we are grafted onto the body of Christ at baptism and reaffirm our membership in Christ's body at confirmation, not to mention at regular eucharists. We don't have a "saved" experience; I guess we just realize that we are.
So today, while realized that I was very different because I wasn't necessarily "saved" per the understood definition of the members there present, I also recalled my formerly acute awareness that for members of churches where being "saved" is paramount, the Episcopal Church, with its very calm and collected manner of prayer and worship, is suspect and even downright un-faithful. As foreign as today's unscripted sermons and prayers were to me, I was struck during the funeral service how alien my "brand" of Christianity might be to these worshipers. I have existed for several years in an almost entirely demythologized world, having removed all the fantastical faith stories from the core of my spirituality and concentrating solely on here-and-now based calls to live out by Baptismal Covenant. (I think this might be common for many Episcopalians and other "progressive" Christians). Today, however, I was reminded of the New Jerusalem, of the very deep and wide river of stories and experiences that have grounded me within the Christian tradition, and have allowed me to understand - in a small way - the religious experiences of those who span the whole Christian spectrum. I understand my role in the ancient-to-modern flow of Christianity in a unique way, but I quietly and privately reaffirmed the importance of Biblical stories to my faith life. I feel invigorated by this renewed commitment to living within the religious heritage of the Bible - of the ancient Israelites, early Jews, early Jewish-Christians, and Pauline Christians.
This family's hope in the saving power of God in Christ is staggering, their ability to live through sorrow and overcome it with an increasing love of God, an ever-growing belief in His goodness, and a heightened sense of compassion is positively astounding. I am humbled by their faith, dumbfounded by their resilience.
Moreover, I am unbelievably thankful for the work of God's hand in my life - for the people He has put in my path to form me, shape me, and change me. I am undeserving, and overwhelmed by grace. These are things I might need to get more used to saying - for years I have avoided the term "grace."
I pray for the Episcopal Church and the deputations at Convention - that we may find cause to welcome each other (including all the baptized to all the sacraments of the Church) in Christian love. If I learned anything from today's events - from the funeral service, from the preacher, from the family - it is that our differences are NO excuse for a lack of compassion, understanding, love, or welcome.
Heavenly Father,
May the Episcopal Church learn to welcome and respect the dignity of all people. May we learn to love and serve those whom we perceive as different from us. May we discern the will of the Holy Spirit as it moves at Convention and in our lives.
May all that we do be to pursue Your will and Your love.
Amen.
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