Knowing the Unknown God

 

I've had a really busy week, cramming in as many massage clients as my own body could stand.  I'll be off from preaching for a couple of weeks, so won't have much new to post until Trinity Sunday. That is, unless the Spirit moves me as it did when I finally sat down to write the previous entry about my part in the saga that is the Episcopal election in Florida. The diocese of Texas has split their vote. Bishop Andy Doyle backs the election of the Rev. Charlie Holt (who last served at a church in Houston). The Standing Committee of Texas did not consent. Both issued statements. And so the drama continues to unfold. 

None of that has anything to do with my sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter Year A! Instead...I was interested in St. Paul and his speech in Acts 17 to the Athenians at the Areopagus. 

Here we go!

Text: Acts 17:22-31

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I was recently sitting at the table at a wedding reception in Tallahassee with some people who I’ve known casually for about ten or fifteen years.

I hadn’t seen them in quite awhile so there was some catching up to do.

And… as you might expect… in the course of the conversation… I told them that I am an Episcopal priest.

This information usually illicits a range of responses.

Often, it’s a polite nod of the head with a raised eyebrow or two.

Maybe even a “Hmmm” or a “huh.”

They might inquire if I am serving at a church in Tallahassee, and I tell them, “No, I’m at St. Barnabas in Valdosta,” which then gives me a chance to give a plug for how easy it would be for them to get to our 11 o’clock service…

Normally, that’s about as much as anyone ever wants to hear a priest talk about the church.

But at this wedding, which was a same-sex couple married by a United Methodist pastor, the person sitting next to me asked me a theological question…one that I imagine is on the minds of a lot of people.

“How do you talk about God with all that is going on today?”

“All” meaning the polarized political environment. Anger. War. Hate speech. Shootings. Y’know… everything that we’re all seeing every day.

“How do you talk about God.”

I thought for a moment. It’s a question I’ve been wrestling with for years.

“Well….I don’t ignore what’s happening. And it’s not like bad stuff hasn’t happened throughout world history. But ultimately…what I am reminded of is that the path and the teachings in the Scripture call on all of us to not go in the direction of violence, but in the direction of love... which is the direction of God. To see what’s happening and answer it with compassion and love. We have to chose that path toward love. That’s how I talk about God.”

The woman took a moment to take in what I’d said.

 I think it might have been the first time she had heard someone talk about God in that way.

It was like the time that I had been on a panel with what was called “The God Squad” in Tallahassee: Baptist pastor, Rabbi, Episcopal priest, Methodist minister who would hold monthly Friday lunchtime forums on a topic.

I was asked to come in and join the team to debate and discuss the merits of same-sex marriage which was still illegal at the time.

A woman who told me she was “spiritual but not religious” wanted to meet with me for coffee and conversation after that talk.

So we met and I listened to her reasons… all valid, good reasons for her for why she rejected the church and all of its patriarchy, especially St. Paul.

“Y’know…I might be the only lesbian in the world who doesn’t hate Paul.”

Her eyes got wider and I told her why I didn’t hate him.

“His conversion story is powerful. He was an enemy of the church…had stood by watching them kill Stephen. He was on his way to round up followers of Jesus and—Bam—Jesus shows up on the way to Damascus…blinds him so he has to depend on others for help…and then the person who heals him is one of Jesus’ followers.

And Paul…became a believer at that point…and knew how to talk to different people and reach them with the message of Jesus.”

I really do like Paul.

I realize there are words attributed to him that have caused injury to women, and blacks and gays.

But that’s because people… not Paul… have taken his words out of context…and in some cases… the words were not even Paul’s but some rogue disciple of his who decided to say things that contradicted the truth of a man who had Phoebe as one of his helpers.

This woman looked stunned.

Again… she had probably never heard this before… and certainly not from someone like me.

We finished our coffee and conversation.

I hadn’t converted her to being “religious.” But that wasn’t why we’d met.

She wanted to know why I believed in God… and having heard me… she had a new understanding of the God I know and love.

I’m sharing these stories because our apostle Paul is also called upon to talk about God to people who are curious… maybe a bit skeptical… about his message.

As a little background to this reading we heard from the Acts of the Apostles…

Paul and Silas have been traveling through different parts of Macedonia…which today is largely Northern Greece and Bulgaria. Paul’s first stop is to the synagogue in Thessolonica.

Some Jews and Greeks including women received his message about Jesus but there were others who saw him as disruptive…and it caused an uproar in the city.

So, Paul and Silas move on to another city where they have a better reception.

 But the mob from Thessolonica came into that town and riled up the crowds against them there.

So finally Paul makes it to Athens.

Now Athens was an intellectual hotbed.

There were Stoic and Epicurean philosophers engaging in debates about virtues and ethics.

When Paul came into the city with a message about the resurrected Jesus… they wanted to hear more.

“What’s this new thing?”

“Sounds sort of strange, but we’re interested.”

And so they brought Paul to the Areopagus.

And… after his run in with the mob before… Paul takes a very careful approach to his presentation.

He compliments them.

He lets them know that he has seen and taken in their culture and admired their religious devotion with their gold and silver objects.

And then he talks about this particular altar he came across… an altar to “an unknown god.”

This is his opening… a place to share his religious experience.

He talks about a God who creates.

A God who has been moving and being in the world around them from the very beginning.

A God who for the love of humanity came into the world and joined with us in the flesh… to the end that we might finally learn that love is the way.

A God who suffered and died… but ultimately overcame death through the resurrection as a lasting symbol to all of us that no matter what trouble comes our way… we will not only survive but thrive.

Now some found this last part a little too much for them.

But others wanted more and eventually would come to follow Paul on this way with Jesus.

The unknown God had become known.

I think this thirst for discovering the unknown God is still with us.  

In some ways… I think that’s what lies at the heart of consumerism and polarization in our culture.

We buy lots and lots of stuff to meet a deeper desire: a need to be loved… and to belong to something.

We seek happiness in groups… and we gain some satisfaction in being with like-minded people.

But how do those things…those possessions and tribes … meet our inmost longings?

That feeling that we are part of something greater than ourselves?

I think this is what was at the heart of the conversation I was having both with the friend at the wedding and the woman at the coffee shop.

I think both of them were wanting to hear…who is this God that I speak of? How does this God meet us in this world we live in?

And this is the place where faith and trust in God can serve as a powerful light to others who are looking for that deep connection that their life is worthy of love.

Like Paul… we can meet that longing by first listening to people.

Get to know their story.

Connect it to our story as people who believe in a known God…a God who has promised to be with us to the end of the age.

Now…some may walk away. But in that walk…they will have been touched.

There are so many who are yearning to meet a God of love and not of judgment.

A God of hope and not of despair.

A God who knows we aren’t perfect and wants to be with us in our imperfection and help take some of that weight off us.

This is the God we are invited to share with the people around us.

May we be that light for one another.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

I Am Priest #4: Another Story from the Saga of the Diocese of Florida

 

I was walking with a colleague from the diocese of Georgia along the street in Jacksonville on our way to an Evening Prayer service. We were attending the Episcopal Parish Network conference being held in Florida's largest city.  I happened to look at the entry way of an otherwise non-descript building. And there was a sphinx staring into the street and looming over the sidewalk. Instantly, I remembered what I thought of this place.

This is Egypt.

Not literally, obviously.

But it is how I have felt about diocese of Florida, a place where I was forced to leave in order to follow my call to the sacred order of priests.

It is one of those wounds that I have carried with me into my priesthood, a memory of what it is to sit before the powerful and to be told that due to an immutable characteristic of my lesbian orientation and the fact that I have a loving partner in my life, I was disqualified from becoming a priest.  

That conversation with Bishop John Howard took place in his office on October 7, 2013. My rector, the Rev. Dave Killeen, was present for the conversation, which ended up not being so much a conversation as a quiz game where the single category was the Episcopal catechism. 

I was asked questions about God and about sin. My favorite was when I was asked, bluntly and aggressively, “Who is Jesus Christ?”

My answer then…and now…” Jesus Christ is the greatest liberator from oppression ever.”

Fr. Dave would later explain to me that while that was a “good” answer, a better answer would have been: “Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior.”

After forty-five minutes of testing me on the tenets of the faith, Bishop Howard gave me the news that I should have expected. There was no way he would entertain having me enter the process of discernment and ordination in the diocese of Florida. His specific statement:

“While you might have a call, we have a rule in our diocese that we do not ordain people who are partnered and gay.”

I sat motionless, quiet. There was nothing more to do or say.

The bishop did offer me an alternative. 

He invited me to go back to Tallahassee and study the catechism with my rector, and then return to Jacksonville in six months. Then he might recommend me to another bishop.

My rector and I left.

We said nothing to each other the whole two and half hours back to Tallahassee.

By the First Sunday in Advent, I transferred my letter to St. Thomas, Thomasville.

I left the Egypt of the diocese of Florida…and entered the promised land of the diocese of Georgia.

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Fast forward to May 2022. Bishop Howard is due to retire soon and so the diocese of Florida engaged in the process of electing a new bishop. There were five candidates: three white men, one Latin man, and one white woman. While other dioceses seeking new episcopal leadership garnered interest from across the country, the slate for Florida consisted mostly of people homegrown, or with experience in adjacent dioceses (Central Florida).

The night before the election was to take place, a message went out to the diocesan email list that there was a problem in getting enough clergy to be present to hold the election. Apparently, some had decided that an electing convention was the perfect time to go on vacation. Others were sidelined by COVID. They scrambled to come up with a way for votes to be cast online, which apparently was a spectacular failure, not to mention that such accommodation was not made for the lay order. When one of the candidates tried to drop out after a round of voting, he couldn’t do so, causing more fracturing of the vote. So, even though the convention elected the Rev. Charlie Holt, it was clear that it had been irregular. After a complaint was filed, and found valid, the diocese was ordered to have a do over.

Two of the candidates dropped out. The three that remained included the Rev. Charlie Holt. He insisted that he felt called to be the bishop of Florida. The diocese, in the meantime, had felt he needed a place in the diocesan office and created a position for him as a "diocesan priest." 

The diocese held another election in November. All canonically resident clergy were ordered to be there. That meant priests who no longer served at a church in the diocese had to come back to cast a vote. The Rev. Holt won election again…by one vote… in the clergy order.

Done?

No.

And this is where my story becomes part of the saga of the diocese of Florida.

Bishop Howard has been tilting the scale in favor of more conservative clergy for quite a while. One way to do that: deny queer people the opportunity to seek ordination. If we aren’t here, we can’t upset the status quo of keeping the diocese a bastion of cisgender straight and very theologically narrow clerics.

My name surfaced as one of the people denied access to the ordination process. The Rev. Elyse Gustafson, the only out lesbian priest in the diocese of Florida, got in touch with me and asked if I would be willing to be a “Me Too” essentially for the complaint she and others were filing about the election.

“I’m identifying you as Priest #4.”

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On January 20, 2023, I had a Zoom call with the Rev. Carrie Schofield-Broadbent. She was serving as an interviewer on behalf of the Court of Review for the Episcopal Church, the group that was looking into the shenanigans that have happened with Florida’s episcopal election. Once more, I was asked to tell my story of what went down when I met with the Bishop of Florida in October 2013.

I told the story.

Again.

It is the same story I have told what seems like a hundred thousand times, to individuals, committees, commissions, seminarians, etc.

But this time, I started to cry.

I cried tears of frustration.

I cried tears of deep hurt.

The wounds are still there.

In telling my story, I was reminded how painful it was to finally give up the struggle and stop resisting this sense that God was leading me into a life of service and great vulnerability. And then to have a bishop with a prejudiced view of who I am as a child of God tell me that because of this one aspect of my humanity, he not only doubted God’s call, but he also wouldn’t ordain me anyway was a slap across the face. As I’ve said to many a person, “Church hurt is real.”

My story became part of the record to demonstrate a pattern of discrimination that has been in place to deny the voices of LGBTQ+ people in the diocese.

But the complaint went even further than that.

There are priests currently serving at parishes in the diocese of Florida who were not allowed to vote because Bishop Howard has not given them canonical residency. The diocese claims that these priests never sought to be resident clergy. But what is more accurate is that these priests could not apply because they had been told it wasn’t possible to give them residency, or encouraged not to become resident for whatever reason. Many of the priests in that position are sympathetic to more progressive theology and accepting of LGBTQ+ people.

In other words, the process has been flawed from the start and geared toward promoting only those who have viewpoint in line with Bishop Howard.

A photo of the altar party from the St. John's All Saints' Sunday service, 2013. I was a verger at the service. Bishop Howard asked me if I had been meeting with Fr. Dave about the catechism. I told him I had. I didn't tell him I had discerned to leave St. John's. 

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February, 2023. The Court of Review issued its findings on the five objections raised about the vote in November. The report with documentation was 189 pages long.

Three of the five claims they found to have no merit.

But they did find that there were serious procedural problems especially since there had been such systemic discrimination against LGBTQ+ clergy, people, and anyone sympathetic to us.

It took no time for the Standing Committee of the diocese of Florida to fire back. They sent out an email, falsely stating to the diocese that the Court really hadn’t found a lot wrong with the vote, and that the things the Court did highlight were dismissed as “anonymous complaints.” They attacked the Court for having sought out the information, and accused them of trying to run a “Title IV objection through a Title III process.” (That’s Episcopal Legal speak for using the election process as a place to try a clergy person for abusive conduct).

The response of the Standing Committee was so nasty and virulent.

“Typical!” I thought.

Then I got a message.

The Living Church magazine wanted to talk to me about the testimony I had given to the Court. Then Episcopal News Service called.

Terrified, I called my bishop. He assured me there would be no repercussions should I decide to speak to the media. Strange that a former reporter should be afraid to talk to the press, but I have seen work place reprisals in my professional career.  Still remembering what it was like to sit in that room at 325 Market Street in Jacksonville, I consented to be interviewed.

The Living Church article came out on Shrove Tuesday. The ENS article about ten days later.

And my story and my recollection of what happened on October 7, 2013, was called into question and dismissed.

This time by the Canon to the Ordinary, the Rev. Allison DeFoor.

Before he became a Canon, Allison was many things. A sheriff of Monroe County, Florida. A Republican politician. A liberation theologian who worked on faith-based prison programs. He would serve at the Friday 12:10 Eucharist at St. John’s with me as his Eucharistic Minister and acolyte. He used to wear Hawaiian shirts that he had tailored made to fit his clerical collar.

That changed when he went to Jacksonville. There, he only wore black clergy shirts.

Canon DeFoor noted in the articles that in 2013, same-sex marriage was still illegal in Florida, so of course Bishop Howard was only following the law of the secular authority as mentioned in the rubrics of the Book of Common Prayer. Later, to Episcopal News Service, Canon DeFoor would say that Bishop Howard had no memory of meeting with me.

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March 3, 2023: I was at the registration table for the Episcopal Parish Network Conference. A man approached me. He was an average looking middle-aged white man.

“Are you Susan Gage?”

“Yes?” I’m thinking, ‘I have a lanyard with a name tag; it isn’t a secret who I am.’

“I’m Charlie Holt.” 

This was followed by comments about seeing a lot of posts about me on Facebook. I nod and agree that I’m sure he had seen some things. A strange and long-lasting silence ensued as we stared at each other almost as if to see who was going to blink first.  I finally decided to end this stand off.

“Well, thank you for introducing yourself,”

The Rev. Holt said something about being happy to meet me. He would continue to run into me in the hallway throughout the rest of the conference, always being sure to say, “Hi Susan!” as he passed.

The next day at the conference, as I was eating lunch with colleagues from the diocese of Georgia, I heard a voice behind me.

“Susan!!”

I turned around. It was Canon Allison DeFoor. He was all smiles. 

"Hello Allison."

He talked about how he wished he had been at my ordination. Hoped things were going well for me at my church in Valdosta. His tone and his body language made it seem as if this were a homecoming and we were two long lost buddies. I couldn’t keep up the charade.

“Y’know, Allison. I need to tell you that you've hurt me.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“Well, the things you’ve been saying in the church press about me, and my meeting with the bishop…”

The smile was gone.  The interrogator came out.

“Tell me what in anything I’ve said that wasn’t factual!”

“It’s not the facts, Allison. It’s true that marriage wasn’t legal in Florida in 2013. But that’s not the point.”

He began to argue with me and stating that he wasn’t working for the bishop at the time of my meeting that I had had with Howard.

“I know you weren’t. But that meeting did take place. And to see that denied, hurt me. And from you? You who said you supported my ordination. You used to quote William Stringfellow to me. That hurt me.”

We went from jovial greeting... to interrogation. And now he was dressing me down for doubting his support of my ordination, for questioning his commitment to LGBTQ+ rights, and other words that I couldn’t quite make out in the midst of his fury. He informed me that this was the last conversation we would ever have. I couldn’t have been happier to see him leave.

Then he came back.

“And Susan: one of the things about ‘the call’ is to show fairness!”

“I am fair, Allison!”

My Georgia colleagues who were witnessing but not hearing the exchange were baffled. One of them later wanted to know, “Who was that little man?”

Little is accurate.

+++

The diocese of Florida has sent the Rev. Charlie Holt’s name out to the whole church seeking consent to make him the Bishop Coadjutor until Bishop John Howard finally retires in September. I have no idea what the outcome of those votes is going to be.

My diocese has voted No. And the Diocese of Ohio put out a statement on its “No” vote.

I think what would be best for the diocese is to have a break from what has been and is now in the hopes that what will be might finally bring them into step with the rest of the Episcopal Church.

An interim or provisional bishop for a period of three to five years might not be a bad idea. The Episcopal Diocese of Florida is divided and abusive. It needs a real shake up and time to heal.

That is my prayer for them.

"The Way" of God

I had so many directions to choose from for this week's sermon and I was so tempted to dive into the First Reading from Acts 7 with the stoning death of Stephen. But I am accepting the limitations of my abilities, and acknowledging that these readings will come around again in another three years. God willing, I will still be a priest and still serving somewhere. I can always preach on the Acts 7 reading at another time. 

Instead, I think it was important to touch on this very touchy line from John 14 about Jesus being "the way, and the truth, and the life." 

See what you think.

Text: John 14:1-14

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One of my good friends once did a radio commentary in which she discusses how each one of us has “the way” things are to be done. 

There is “the way” one folds the laundry.

“The way” one puts dollar bills back into their wallet or pumps gas or any myriad of things that we feel needs a “way” of doing them.

And, naturally, whatever is your “way” is “the way”. 

Incidentally, questioning “the way” should be done at your own risk.

We hear Jesus in our Gospel lesson this morning refer “the way, and the truth, and the life.”

It seems Jesus has “the way,” too.

This passage is one of the favorites for funerals, and rightly so.

Jesus is launching into his own farewell speech to his disciples.

He’s assuring them that even though he is going to be leaving them, they are never alone.

Jesus starts “Do not let your hearts be troubled.”

He says that as a follow up to an exchange with Peter who had just said that he will lay down his life to follow Jesus wherever he’s going…and Jesus, of course, tells Peter that when the cock crows three times, Peter will deny him.

Such a betrayal of friendship is one of the loneliest feelings in the world.

For family and friends in grief and looking upon a casket or an urn, that ache of loneliness is real, so Jesus words “don’t let your hearts be troubled… I am the way” are there to meet them in that place and give them the comfort that Jesus is right there with them…sitting beside them and offering to hold this grief with them.

This portion of John’s Gospel is both comforting… and it can be a bit confounding.

See: there are some who hear this passage and reach the conclusion that Jesus is throwing down the gauntlet… and excluding anyone who does not profess a belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God.

Christians have taken these words meant to comfort and reassure… and turned them into ways to bludgeon the “non-believer” into submission.

But bludgeoning and attacking…and especially killing….that’s not “the way” of Jesus.

It isn’t “the way” he wanted those sitting at the table with him to behave… or any of us who are following him in the 21^st Century.

So what the heck does Jesus mean when he talks about “I am the way, and the truth, and the life?”

To be clear… our Evangelist John may have adopted this exclusionary tone because his community of followers of “the way” were having a nasty sibling dispute with their fellow Jews back in 100 CE.

But the Jesus of John’s Gospel is not an exclusive Jesus.

If we remember Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus… and the quote made famous by sign waving football fans with John 3:16…

“God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son to the end that all might not perish but have everlasting life” there’s nothing exclusionary in that statement.

The Word became flesh… for the world… for all.

Earlier in John’s Gospel… Jesus is talking about sheep…and sheep hearing and following the voice of the shepherd.

Jesus says “I am the good shepherd…”

In that same chapter of the Gospel… Jesus says:

“I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them along also, and they will listen to my voice.” (10:16).

Jesus doesn’t intend to leave anyone behind.

Once again… we see in Jesus that he’s not exclusive.

So then… why is it that so many of us who call ourselves Christian have used this line about “I am the way, and the truth and the life” to be a line of “accept Jesus or else!”?  A way of thinking that has led to wars… and inquisitions… and attacks against people who are not “one of us”?

Maybe it’s because we are more like the apostle Philip than we are like Peter or even Thomas.

After all the time of being Jesus’ presence…and seeing how Jesus ministers to the sick and the friendless… how he challenges the privileged and the powerful to put their abundance to better use for the whole community and not just their own kind… Philip still doesn’t understand what Jesus is all about.

After Jesus has told them that if they’ve known him…been around him… they’ve got what it takes to know “the Father”…

And Philip is like, “Show us the Father. Then we’ll get it.”

I think we’re the same way.

We come to church.

We are fed with the Word of Scripture.

And we are fed on the Body and Blood of Christ at the table. We pray in words and song…. and we praise God.

We’ve been shown and presumably we know Jesus.

But if we leave here… and treat strangers or even fellow church members with disrespect… if we sigh with indifference at the violence plaguing our society… if we ignore or dismiss people who are in trouble… then we are as blind as Philip to the way, the truth, and the life that Jesus has been demonstrating to us.

When Jesus says “I am” in any of John’s Gospel… whether it’s “I am the way” or “I am the good shepherd”… Jesus is pointing us back to God.

Remember what Moses hears when he asks that burning bush in Exodus for its name?

The response is “I Am who I Am”? (Exodus 3:14)?

The God that was, is, and will be forever.

When Jesus says, “I am the way” he is really saying, “God is the way.”  

And Jesus is the embodiment of that I am.

He’s basically telling Philip… and us…

“If you want to see God… if you want to know what it means to do God’s will… to walk in God’s way… to live and be God’s true self… you have already seen it, lived it, and done it because I am that Word made flesh for you!

I have demonstrated to you that true power…real leadership and being the Messiah… is not about taking up arms and committing violence… but by leaving the table and washing the feet of the weary and tired (John 13).

I have taught you to free the oppressed. I have lived a life of doing justice and showing mercy to others.

This way is the way we’ve been living, moving and having our being…caring for others… and you’ve seen it!”

We are fast approaching the Day and Season of Pentecost. This is the ideal time for us to look at the life and lessons of Jesus.

We can take in these examples and teachings… and fashion them into our context for how we are to live.

Get to know our neighbors and what’s going on in our neighborhood…and bring love and compassion to those who are hurting and alone.

God calls us to be ready to engage with our community… and to make this world a place of health, healing, and hope with unconditional love for all people.

That is God’s way… and God’s truth and God’s dream of an everlasting life for all of us.

In the name of God… F/S/HS.