Give Me that "True" Religion

Photo from Sojourners (sojo.net)

For those unfamiliar with the Episcopal Church, we often begin our services with a hymn, a short prayer (called the Collect for Purity), another short song of praise or "the Gloria" and then the priest offers a prayer out of the Book of Common Prayer that is called "The Collect of the Day." 

The "Collect" (and we pronounce it CALL-ect, not co-LECT) is a prayer that is supposed to set the scene or at least summarize the themes of the Scripture readings we're going to read that morning. These collects are assigned as the "proper prayer" for whatever Sunday we're in this long season of After Pentecost. I have my favorites, and there are those which are just kind of "meh" in my opinion.

But the one for this past Sunday...to be read at the Sunday closest to August 31st (which happened to be Sunday's date)...seemed to call for me to do some teaching. Especially in this time where white Christian Nationalism is on the rise in the country.

See what you think.

+++

Texts: Collect for Proper 17; Luke 14:1, 7-14

I don’t often find myself guided by the words that are in our collect of the day when I write a sermon.

But there is a phrase that comes up in this one that always grabs my attention.

I should’ve known it was coming because it’s always the one we read right around Labor Day.

At the beginning of our worship… we prayed:

“Graft in our hearts the love of your Name; increase in us true religion;”

The first part…”Graft in our hearts the love of your Name” is a play on words found in the First chapter of the Letter of James.

But it’s that second part—“increase in us true religion”—those words always make me pause.

So…I went looking for some explanation…and pulled out my very worn out copy of Marion Hatchett’s “Commentary on the American Prayer Book” which has the extended history behind everything the committee studied and looked at as they created the Book of Common Prayer we now use.

Thomas Cranmer…the Archbishop of Canterbury during the reign of King Henry VIII and author of our first two Books of Common Prayer in the middle of the 16^th Century…wrote this collect.

According to Hatchett…this idea of “true religion” was likely Archbishop Cranmer’s reflection on the state of the times in the English Church back in the middle of the 1500s.

Those were bleak and dangerous times of struggles between the Roman Catholic Church with its adherence to the Pope and its beliefs about what happens at the Eucharistic table when the bread and wine are blessed… and Henry VIII’s desire to be the head of his own Protestant Church of England…taking over Catholic Church property as he divorced and killed his wives.

When Henry died…and his sickly son Edward took the throne at 10 years old…Cranmer and others solidified England as a Protestant country.

But when Edward died only about seven years later…and his half-sister Mary became Queen…she not only turned England back to the Roman Catholic Church…she went on the warpath against Protestants…including Cranmer.

There’s a reason she was called “Bloody Mary.”

Cranmer was forced to recant his protestant reformation-minded theology…but then…while in prison…he stiffened his spine and refused to deny his beliefs.

Queen Mary ordered him burned at the stake…and he famously insisted on putting his writing hand first into the fire as a further sign that he was sorry for ever having signed off on recanting Protestantism.

So…for Cranmer…”true religion” was about “church as state politics”….and “who was the more theologically correct Christian” in the struggle for national power.

We have come a long way from burning each other at the stake in Christianity. 

But we still have our own version of churches splitting…and personal prejudices masquerading as church doctrine…and pursing earthly…nationalistic goals…

 All in the name of “true religion.”

None of it seeming to pay attention to the actual teachings of Jesus…our Lord and Savior who shunned such power.

For Jesus…what makes any religion really “true” is whether we are treating creation…from the earth and the sea and the animals all the way up to our fellow human beings…as the beloved of God that we all are.

That’s what we’re hearing in this morning’s Gospel.

Now…once again…the reading we’ve heard is not complete.

The diviners of the lectionary have left out a portion of the scene.

So let’s fill in some blanks.

First thing to know is that before Jesus shows up to a sabbath meal at the home of one of the leaders of the Pharisees…a group of Pharisees went to Jesus to warn him that he faced serious danger from Herod if he went into Jerusalem.

I think it’s important to mention that because too often…we tend to see the Pharisees as “the bad guys.”

And like so many groups of people…they weren’t all bad.

Jesus encounters the Pharisees so much because they were the predominant Jewish group at the time that the Gospels were written.

In this case… there was this group that worried about Jesus and what was going to happen to him if he took on the Roman power structure.

Jesus isn’t deterred by this news.

He says some sassy things about Herod being a fox…and then laments over Jerusalem…which was the center of Jewish worship that had been so corrupted by Rome.

As he’s entering the house of the leader…he sees a man who has terribly swollen legs…dropsy or edema.

There all these Pharisees and lawyers at the house…so Jesus asks if it’s lawful to cure on the sabbath?

They don’t say anything…but Jesus does.

He heals the man and sends him on his way.

And then he looks around at the group and wants to know if one of their children or an ox fell into a well on the sabbath…would they not rescue them?

Still…they all look at him without answering.

We might imagine Jesus shaking his head at their silence as he goes inside for the sabbath meal.

Once inside…he sees that the guests of the Pharisee leader are taking all the choice seats.

Still fresh in his head that he just saw this same group standing by silently as they saw a man suffering on the sabbath…Jesus decides to do a little schooling.

And that’s where we come back to our Gospel reading…with this parable about where to sit at a wedding banquet.

The custom in ancient Palestine for a wedding was that men reclined on couches…with the couch in the center being the place of honor.

The place of honor was reserved for those with wealth and status.

If someone of a lesser station took a seat too close to the center and someone with more privilege were to show up…the lesser man would have to move…and it would be an embarrassing faux pas.

So he’s looking at this room of those who have presumed a place of honor…and warns them not to be so sure of their station.

As one commentator notes…this isn’t so much about Jesus giving First Century Miss Manners advice to his audience.

Rather he’s telling them something about the kingdom of God.

That one should not presume a more lofty place in God’s kingdom.

And then he talks about the host…and who should be invited to this meal.

Should it just be those who might be able to turn around and invite the host to equally wonderful spread?

Nope.

Blessed are those who are the forgotten…the easily ignored…like that man with dropsy who Jesus just healed and nobody knew what to say or how to appropriately respond.

Again…this is about the kingdom of God.

We can’t presume that because we have a particular status in society that we are automatically the favored ones of God.

That’s why the whole “prosperity Gospel” business…that God somehow rewards people with lots of money… is a bunch of bunk.

We see throughout Jesus’ ministry…and even here in this Gospel…that God isn’t interested in our economic systems.

God is always and forever looking to expand and widen the circle of inclusion….and is always about siding with those who have nothing to give but themselves…their brokenhearted…worn-out…overworked…and yes…even joyful… selves.  

And God’s commandment to us is to put our efforts into the building up of people…to look for those whom others are rejecting and invite them to the literal…and even the metaphorical…table of God to experience what means to be loved beyond all measure.  

Getting to know the stories of others…meeting and greeting people who aren’t our “kinfolk”…is an important part of that building up process.

The more we know another’s story…their history…and the more we openly swap our stories with one another…the stronger the foundation of community.

Both out in the world and inside the church.

I’ve mentioned before about how in an Education for Ministry seminar…one of the first exercises is sharing our spiritual autobiographies.

I can tell you that so often I would listen to someone else’s story… a person completely different from me in all kinds of ways…and yet as I listened to them talk about their experiences with God…I could hear things that made me think, “Oh, yeah: I get that!” or even a “Wow! You, too?”

Sometimes…one of the most religiously…and maybe even politically…conservative men in one of my groups would come up to me afterward and take me aside to express gratitude about things that I had shared about myself and my journey.

Like me…they could hear in something that I had said a word or a phrase that broke past all the artificial human barriers that keep us divided from one another to understand a simple truth: we’re all children of God…created by God out of Love…for the purposes of Love…with mission to share that Love with others.

Which brings me back to “true religion.”

“True religion” isn’t about holding the right belief for political power.

It isn’t about controlling the earthly levers of government…or even about asserting some kind of Christian supremacy.

“True religion” is about hope.

Hope which is found in the God who is Love.

Hope for a world where we care enough about each other…have enough empathy for those who are the have-nots…that we seek mercy…compassion…and justice for all.

The rest of our collect for this morning asks for God to “nourish us with goodness…and bring forth in us the fruit of good works.”

May we carry that prayer in our hearts as we meet the many challenges of our world.

In the name of our One Holy and Undivided Trinity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A New Venue?

 

I'm growing more frustated.

Obviously, I am seeing what is happening in the world around me and I find it abhorrent. I do not understand why at least half the country seems to be OK with a total destruction of all the norms that have kept us together...like...oh, I dunno....following the law. 

It's lead me to start doing more "other writing" beyond just my sermons, which is pretty much all that I am putting up on this blog. 

And while I see that there are apparently people who are seeing the content here, I feel as though this venue isn't really reaching that many people. 

And so while I will continue to post my sermons here, I am also hoping to migrate some of the content from here over to my Substack. 

Substack claims to be easier to use, but even the information about how to transfer my material over to my Substack account is not entirely accurate. And I'm still trying to get the hang of how one publishes there. 

At any rate...if you are interested in possibly following me to Substack and seeing other content from me beyond the sermons...I encourage you to look for me at Susan G Substack

I hope I can get this figured out. And stay tuned for my next sermon...due to arrive in your RSS feed by later tomorrow. 

Mother's Day: It's Complicated

For the first Sunday in what feels like forever, I did not preach. 

I did not even attend a church service in-person or virtually. 

Instead, I was moving furniture, vacuuming and cleaning as we prepare our house for some major and long overdue renovation work. We're lucky to have neighbors who are letting us house sit and take care of their cat while they're away and we are being displaced. 

Because I wasn't preaching, I didn't have to figure out how to handle my own...and maybe others...complicated feelings about the secular Hallmark holiday called "Mother's Day."  My own mother passed away in 2014, and while she appreciated the attention, this was never as an important an occasion for her as--say--Easter or even Christmas. 

It is even more complicated this year because of a leaked U.S. Supreme Court opinion penned by the acerbic Justice Samuel Alito which threatens to undo the nearly 50-year-old legal precedent on abortion called Roe v. Wade. I couldn't help thinking about the dangers that thousands of women will face if Alito and company have their way and abortion laws are turned over to the states. Already, Republican-controlled state legislatures have passed so-called "trigger" laws that would go into effect if the SCOTUS overturns Roe. Some of those laws would make abortion totally illegal, even in cases of rape, incest, or risk to the woman's life. Others shorten the time frame for a legal abortion to 15 weeks, even though medical researchers have concluded that a fetus is not viable outside the womb until 26 weeks. OB/GYN doctors are worried that the criminalization of abortion suggested in some of these state laws will lead to a generation of medical professionals who don't know how to perform the procedure which may be medically necessary if a woman miscarries. Suddenly, doctors and their patients become murderers.

The decision to have a child, and then the risks involved with childbirth, should not be in the hands of politicians or courts or pundits or priests. This is solely the woman's decision, made with a mind toward embracing a vocation of mothering a child. And it is a vocation. Some women are exceptionally good mothers. Some, like me, looking at the responsibility of bringing forth life into the world, have rightly concluded that we are better as supporters of those who want to be mothers rather than becoming one ourselves. 

The debate about abortion in this country, and others, has often been tied up in religion and religious belief. The Episcopal Church has been nuanced and consist in its position on the ethics of abortion. While we support the sacredness of life, we also recognize that the life of the mother is as sacred as any other life. 

The draft of Alito's opinion on this matter makes it clear that women are seen not as having fully-realized human lives. Our wombs are factories meant to meet the demand of a shrinking supply of babies eligible for adoption. 

I can't think of a more anti-Christian position than reducing one half of the human race to being merely a baby making machine. 

I pray this is not the last word on this question. I fear that it might be.  

The Bible: A Book, Not a Baton

A child cries as mom is frisked at border in Texas photo by the Independent.co.uk

Late Thursday night, I saw on Facebook that a friend had tagged me in a post. In it, we were to play a game of quoting the Bible to defend a position. I was puzzled by this, having missed the news in favor of earning a living and rehearsing with my theater company. Luckily, she had included a video clip of Attorney General Jefferson Beauregard Sessions smirking and quoting the first few lines from The Letter to the Romans, Chapter 13: 

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God.--Romans 13:1

This was to justify the administration's policy of separating children from their parents as they cross from Mexico into Texas in search of a better life in the United States free from the gang violence that forced them to flee. Those gangs, by the way, such as MS-13? They began in the Latinx communities in Los Angeles. We deported the gang members back to their countries of origin, and those gang members took their well-honed gang terror to their native lands thus creating this exodus of people running to the U.S. border for safety. Once upon a time, we promised hope to all those "tired and huddled masses yearning to breathe free." Apparently with this administration, hope has an asterisk.

As I pointed out to my friend, and therefore all her friends, the practice of proof texting the Bible (lifting a passage out of context to make a political, social, economic, etc. point) is a really bad idea, especially if you aren't someone who has spent the time studying Scripture and wrestling with its contents. There are those who do that. You can usually find them at seminaries or on college campuses...and--dear me--even sometimes in the pulpit! And what most knowledgeable people will tell you is that the Bible is chock full of passages that are mysteriously slipped in that seemingly have no place; thus making it quite possible that another party added these lines into the script after the fact because that party had a score to settle or some other self-interested idea.  In fact, this line to support the authority of government as "God given" is noted in the Harper-Collins Study Bible as very likely one of those add-ons. Why would Paul stick that in after he just finished a whole statement where he made the case for what makes a good Christian, which comes down to "love God and love your neighbor as yourself"? 

It's fascinating, and very infuriating, that the hacks of this administration will quote Scripture for every part of the Bible except the Gospels. Perhaps they might want to check out what Jesus, who is the Christ where we get the word “Christian,” had to say about how we are to treat the poor, the children, the widows, the prisoners:

‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Then he will say to those at his left hand, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.’ 

Of course, that is a bit wordy, and doesn’t make for a neat 10-second sound bite. It also seems to fly in the face of what this administration believes.

Maybe I should break this down into something a little easier to comprehend: the policy of separating children from their parents and telling mothers that they are taking their kids “to the showers” (history buffs, does that make your skin crawl?!?!) is abhorrent, evil, and un-Christian. It would be “better for us to have a great millstone tied around our necks and be drowned” than to continue with this way of treating traumatized and frightened people coming into our country. (Matthew 18:6)

What would Jesus do? Not what we’re doing!

Small Acts of Radicalism and Love

I live in the southeastern United States which, after the 2016 Presidential election, I have dubbed "The Red States of America." The electoral map had a big red mass in the lower right hand corner of the map. And that's where I live, move, and have my being. 

Life here has been intense. As I noted in my prior entry ("Love, Now More than Ever") I have been on edge traveling through south and central Georgia. I have seen postings from people in the Peach State that have made my skin crawl. Pictures of pick up trucks touting Trump's win and what that will mean for "fat dykes." Stories of children worried that they or their families will be deported or "sent back to Africa." A barista shared with me that her boyfriend, who looks like a typical southern red neck,  was heckled by car full of anti-Trump protestors as he was outside in his Tallahassee neighborhood. Of course, they didn't know that he was also anti-Trump. A classic moment of judging a book by its cover...or a southern guy by his beard.

It's also gotten ugly over how best to show support to people who are feeling threatened and scared about the incoming administration. A small gesture, fastening a safety pin to your clothes to indicate "You are safe with me" can kick up a firestorm from both sides. Those on the right ridicule and scoff at the gesture and accuse the wearer of fomenting division in the country. Those on the left ridicule and scoff at the gesture as white people attempting to assuage their white guilt about electing a white supremacist to the highest office in the land. Never mind that the people sporting the pin are more likely than not Clinton voters. The pin has become a prickly point in these parts.

I guess it might be too much to ask those on the left to consider that maybe, just maybe, the people sporting pins are making a commitment to always stand up against bigotry and prejudice and that this has nothing to do with their own feelings, and more to do with their empathy for the oppressed. Perhaps it's time for the left to stop attacking its own people simply because, unconsciously, it's easier to beat up on fellow liberals than to face the anger, hostility and meanness of their true opponents on the right.

I have found myself taking hits from people on both sides. To be both queer and Christian puts me in a perpetual place of vulnerability. 

What does that mean today, to be a person who is among the targeted and despised and yet professes a belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God? The people on the right reject me and my relationship and are ready to roll back all the civil rights gains the LGBTQ+ community have made and put me into conversion therapy. The people on the left have called me the equivalent of a Hitler-loving Jew for attempting to live into my calling to stand with the oppressed while always looking for ways to soften the hearts of those who right now seem so hard and fast in their hatred of me and my kind. In other words, to be queer and Christian at this time is to become even more in tune with what it means to follow Christ. As I've said, it's easy to say you love Jesus; it's a whole different thing to actually follow him into these impossible places to do the work that bridges gaps and attempts to raise up people rather than continuously drag them down. 

With this Sunday being the last Sunday of Pentecost, or Christ the King Sunday, listeners in the pews of Episcopal churches will hear a gospel lesson in which Jesus, hanging on the cross between two criminals and being mocked and scorned, says, "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." From one side, Jesus gets more abuse from a convict; on the other side, he hears his fellow death row inmate come to his defense and beg for remembrance and mercy. Fast forward many centuries and place this scene in a contemporary context, I can see my queer Christian self being similarly taunted and disrespected and tested. I can feel the frustration and pain of seeing how totally screwed up the scene is around me (a man who was endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan and NO major newspaper wins the presidency?) and yet I am, by hook or by crook, required to be in relationship in the world with people who supported this man while not making peace with his oppression of me or others. "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing." Really? Did they not know who they were electing? Sadly, strangely, it seems some people would not take the Republican candidate's incendiary talk on the campaign trail seriously. The rationale is "he didn't really mean all that stuff  about Mexicans, immigrants, Muslims." I'm not sure how one believes his economic plans while ignoring his troubling rhetoric about the many minority groups and his lack of respect for women. But it has been done. The votes were cast. So now what? How do I go to the communion rail with people who will not see the damage done with all the name-calling and whipping up unwarranted fears about "the others" of our society? "Father forgive them for they do not know what they are doing...." 

There are some who are among the unreachable. They've tapped their inner fear button through the right wing medium machine so many times that it's become as addictive as any drug. But there are those who are not the totally lost. These are the people I hope to reach with remaining as a presence of Love so that they might see the need for them to join in the work to prevent the spread of fear and to stop the violence--verbal and physical--that is already happening in the wake of this election. 

In the meantime, for those who have genuine fear, I am wearing my safety pin in the Red States of America to be an outward and visible sign of a willingness to speak up against the hatred that is swirling around them in the world. It is a small, yet radical, act of love and an assurance that I will not leave my brothers and sisters behind. Together we will stand on the side of love.    

 

Do Not Be Alarmed

Then Jesus began to say to them, "Beware that no one leads you astray.  Many will come in my name and say, "I am he!' and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come.  For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.--Mark 13:5-8

Do not be alarmed. This must take place. The end is still to come.

What words to have in the Gospel reading this past Sunday, less than 48 hours after the terrorist rampage in Paris. What a message to ponder as pundits piece together on the news the string of deadly attacks waged by those who claim to be fighting against Western ideals in the name of Allah, praise be his name.

Are these times the "birth pangs" of something else on our horizon? 

The readings at the end of the church year are always of an apocalyptic nature. The diviners of our lectionary seem to want to remind us that we're approaching the close of the year, and that Advent is coming and will usher in a new round of quiet waiting and anticipation, and a chance to prepare the way for the coming of Christ back into the world in the most normal of ways: a baby born to a woman who would grow up to be the human embodiment of Love in his own violent and turbulent world of First Century Palestine. He would be "God with us," here to teach us to love our enemies, not curse them.

This perfect love of Jesus is tremendously challenging on a good day. It seems close to impossible on days when our news on television, radio, the paper and social media show us again and again that there is death and destruction and hatred all around. It's not much comfort in the morning office readings to have the Book of Revelation, with "the Devil" or 1 Maccabees with the "fight to the death" narrative. When one reads about Judas, called Maccabeeus, who"searched out and pursued those who broke the law; he burned those who troubled his people," it can feel as though you're right back on Facebook again!

What do we do about those who call themselves "Islamic State in Iraq and Syria" or "ISIS"? 

As might be expected, those Syrians who have been fleeing the civil war that is destroying their country, have been caught up in the crossfire of anger, suspicion, outrage, and fear. They are attempting to get away, but have been met at the border of some European nations with hostility. After what happened in Paris, France immediately closed its border and the news media has started alleging that there are ISIS members embedded in the streams of refugees getting out of Syria. This may be true. But it is also true that ISIS has successfully radicalized those who have felt disenfranchised and despised in their own countries because of their ethnicity or religion. While there are still questions about Friday's attack in Paris, the one thing that is clear is that at least one of the attackers was a French national. And there are some ties, it seems, that these terrorists may have had  to Belgium. That's a far cry from Syria. The Syrian refugees are not the enemy. Unfortunately, in the case of those who are becoming radicalized, the enemies may look eerily like us.

What do we do? I wish I had the answer to that. I am not one who likes war or advocates for war or violence to deal with conflict. I believe that ISIS is attempting to get us to act out of our fears and enter into a war (which has apparently already worked with France starting to bomb ISIS points in Syria). For me, I have to remember to keep living my life in Love. I have to pray not only for the victims of violence, but to remember our enemies as well. Gut-wrenching as that can be, I have to ask for God's intervention to soften the hearts of my enemies so it will have the reflexive action of helping to keep me from getting too invested in anger and revenge. I have to trust that God hasn't checked out and is seeing and aware of this turmoil. 

I also have to consider what the factors are that drive people to hate "our western culture." I'm not convinced by our government's narrative that they hate us because of our "freedom." I think they may hate us because of our misuse and abuse of our freedom. When our freedom leads to exploitation of others around the world, so that we reap the benefits of their resources, there's going to be trouble brewing. Does that mean I think the shooting of innocent people at a restaurant or a concert hall is OK? Do I condone the wanton taking of another life, the beheadings, the raping of the Yazidi women and girls? No way! ISIS is a barbaric organization which has seemingly lost all sense of humanity. I just don't want myself or anyone else suckered into diving head first into their pit of Hell and rage.

I don't have an answer for how to contain ISIS or how you can effectively destroy something that isn't a "state" with defined borders or has a conscience. This is an enigma. God help us all.

      

The Drum Major Instinct

It was a cold and windy mid-November morning when I walked from a hotel in downtown Atlanta through the Sweet Auburn neighborhood. I kept my pace brisk as I crossed street after street, even walking under a major interstate. I passed by many a closed business, and bars advertising prizes for twerking. This was definitely out of my element. But I was on a mission: I wanted to go to Ebenezar Baptist Church, the church that launched the career of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

I was not disappointed. The docent at the desk informed me that, in the church basement, there was a video playing of one of Dr. King's siblings telling the story of her brother and her family's involvement in the life of Ebenezer Baptist. King's father was the pastor and his mother was the organist and choir director. When Martin Luther King, Jr. was a child, he used to love to sing. He would grow up to be the co-pastor of the church with his father from 1960 to his death in 1968. The video also told the story of how violence rocked their church about six years after Rev. Dr. King's assisination. It was a Sunday morning. Dr. King's mother had just finished playing and they were starting prayers in the church when a man stood up on one of the pews, announced he was taking over, and began shooting. King's mother was killed in the melee along with a deacon. The 23-year-old who did the shooting said he did it because he was opposed to Christianity.

With that in my head, I ascended the steps to the sanctuary. There was only me, and one other couple. They left fairly soon after I got there, which gave me the entire space to myself. Me, an empty sanctuary with flowers and an old-fashioned microphone on the pulpit and the recording of the Rev. Dr. King's sermon, "The Drum Major Instict." 

I was deeply moved as I sat and listened to his voice filling the air. I knew the Scripture passage well, the moment in which the brothers are arguing and asking Jesus to give them the seats of honor on his left side and the right side. It is a moment in Jesus' ministry where I often wonder, "Did these guys who were following him here, there and everywhere have a clue as to what he was doing?" The presumption of these two guys, John and James, that they could ask Jesus to make them first ahead of the other disciples is pretty amazing, and yet, pretty typical of so many of us. That's what Rev. Dr. King referred to as "the Drum Major instinct."  I sat at times with eyes closed as I took in how Dr. King put this tale into his modern day situation in 1968. People putting themselves into financial crises by attempting to live beyond their means. Nations putting themselves and their people at-risk by asserting that their way is superior to the way of other nations. Racism, and how poor whites had deluded themselves into believing they are superior to blacks while suffering under the same oppression and injustice plaguing communities of color. And he turned his own sights back to Jesus for the role model of what real leadership looks like. I wept as I heard Dr. King say of himself that at his funeral he didn't want anyone to go on and on about him. He didn't want to be known for the many accolades he had accumulated. He didn't want them to talk about his Nobel Peace Prize. 

"Tell them I tried to love and serve humanity." 

Little did he know, he was preaching his own eulogy. His wife requested that this sermon be played at his funeral.

Little did I know this mission to find and visit his church would leave such an impression on me. I heard in his sermon many things I have felt for myself as one who has kept plugging away at the struggle for equality particularly for LGBTQI people. I don't work for justice so that I can get awards. I work for justice because I can't feel comfortable knowing that others are struggling. Yes, we have finally achieved marriage equality in Florida. But people are still able to be fired from their jobs if they get married to their same-gender partner. The Roman Catholic diocese in South Florida has made it clear to all its employees to "beware" of making public comments on social media about the marriage issue that might "contradict" traditional Roman Catholic doctrine. The Episcopal diocese of Florida has not even acknowledged that there has been this sea change in the civil marriage laws. We have made progress. But this march is far from over. And so I'm lacing up my shoes, ready to walk the path that is laid before me.  

If Christ is the King, then....

We've reached the end of the season of Pentecost and have arrived at the date that is commonly known throughout the Episcopal Church as "Christ the King" Sunday. To punctuate the moment, we hear the famous words from Matthew's Gospel:

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matt 25:34-39).

We also know what follows this. Those who don't feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, take care of the sick or visit the prisoner are the ones who have not done the will of the king...and they will not inherit eternal life.  To put this all in simpler terms, when we take care of each other, look out for each other, recognize our selves in the "other", this is when we have made earth more like heaven. It's when we do the simple things of paying attention to the people we encounter and treat them with the respect and dignity afforded every human being that we put the Christ back into Christianity and He can reign as king.

Just saying, "Oh, yes, I will take care of the poor and the needy," doesn't cut it. To actually achieve "earth as it is in heaven" entails a lot of work and it isn't for the feight of heart. It means entering into the messiness of humanity and sitting with the stranger in the dark and daring to touch their hand or their shoulder to remind them that they are not alone.

We've had some terrifying events lately in Tallahassee which sadly are the same terrifying events that happen in cities and towns all over this country every day. A person with a gun opens fire on people who are unarmed or responding to others in need of help. It happened twice in less than three days. On the Florida State University campus, a young man who had graduated from FSU and gone on to law school and had a career as an attorney in New Mexico returned to his alma mater, to the library where he used to love to study as an undergraduate, and shot three people. When the police arrived and ordered him to drop his weapon, he fired off shots at them. They killed him. Myron May wasn't the smiling student and promising young lawyer he'd been. Friends report that he had been on a terrifying downward spiral of mental illness and a belief that the police had bugged everything from his car to his sneakers. We won't know why he felt the need to go back to the campus he loved to inflict pain and terror. But it seems he is yet another victim of a mental healthcare system that has too many gaps in which very sick and troubled people continuously fall and their families and friends are powerless to do much more than watch. When one has to "do something" in order to get help, it can lead to them "doing something," that harms themselves or others. That seems to have been the case with Myron May. And how sad is that. It wasn't that his friends didn't attempt to go sit with him in his dark place, to get him the help he needed. They did. But the gaps that have been allowed to grow in the system, the inability due to bureaucracies to get people help conspired against their efforts. And so a campus and its police officers got pulled into his hell. And we, again, are left with questions: why can't someone with a mental illness get proper treatment? And how in the world are they able to purchase a gun?

Another man, with a gun, took aim this morning at Leon County Sheriffs deputies and Tallahassee firefighters responding to a house fire on a normally quiet cul-de-sac. Details are still sketchy, but it seems this guy was someone with a record and known to be trouble. He may have set fire to the home as a way of drawing out the first responders, and then he ambushed the first deputy on the scene, killing him and taking his gun. An off-duty TPD officer who happened to live in the neighborhood and was preparing to work a shift at the FSU football game, heard the melee outside and was the one who ultimately ended up shooting and killing the guy. A neighborhood was terrified and shaken. And more lie dead from gunshots. Many are quick to note that it could have been worse. But that is small consolation to those mourning the dead. All day on Facebook, as the story of this latest shooting unfolded, I would learn that one friend may have known the perpertrator; another lives only a few houses away from the dead deputy. The violence ripples out from the crime scene and touches us all. 

If Christ is King, then surely he must be like the man who returned from his journey in last week's Gospel parable only to find that the person given the one talent (which was actually a huge amount of money in those days) had buried it because he knew the man was greedy. What will this King have to say about how we've been doing, as a human race, to make earth resemble heaven? Will he note how we throw our hands up and say, "We can't do anything about XYZ because... (fill in the list of excuses)?" Perhaps as we prepare for the return of the King in these coming weeks of Advent, we might begin with looking at our unwillingness to tackle the tough issues every single day, and demand better of our leaders and our selves when it comes to the lack of adequate resources for mental health care. Maybe now is the time to ask the harder questions about the easy access to guns, and for those with the power to change laws to worry more about the public good than the next election cycle. The "least of these" are really any of us and all of us. Our refusal to see that and respond in Love to one another through doing the hard work of making earth like heaven is when we fail the King.

Sharing Talents...and Worship Spaces

The Gospel lesson read across the Episcopal Church on Sunday is the familiar story of the man going on a journey who gives out talents to his slaves. The one who received the most invested it and made more. Same with the one given the modest amount. But the one given a single talent buried it in the ground. When the man returns from his journey and learns what the slave with the one talent did, he takes that one talent away, gives it to the one with the most and banishes the "wicked slave" for squandering the opportunity he'd been given with his one talent.

Lots of churches use this time as an opportunity to bring up that uncomfortable "S" word: stewardship.  And stewardship becomes uncomfortable because it means talking about money. And money makes people uncomfortable because the people who don't have any can be led to feel guilty that they don't have means, and the people who do have money can end up feeling put out because they're expected to give more. The old saying, "Money is the root of all evil," really is true. Because stewardship gets so focused on the false god of money, we miss the true God over and over.

So, instead of talking money, I want to talk about how hearing this Gospel story made me reflect upon a dust-up in Episcopal circles about the use of Washington National Cathedral by Muslims for prayers last Friday.  You might have heard that the Dean of the Cathedral, the Very Rev. Gary Hall, opened use of the cathedral's sanctuary to Muslims for their sabbath day prayers. This was an invitation-only event, and included some non-Muslims as well. The purpose was reconcilliation and allowing the many more members of the Islamic faith to pray in peace and show the face of Islam that doesn't make headlines. Security for the event had to be tight due to threats. And even with that, a middle-aged white woman was inside and attempted to disrupt the prayers with shouts about Jesus dying on the cross. She was escorted out by a verger (we do come in handy at times like these!). In some ways, that outburst was similar to what happened to Bishop Gene Robinson when he was invited to preach at a church in London during the last Lambeth Conference. And it is the same source that powers those actions: fear. Fear of something or someone "different." Fear of something or someone "changing." Fear that someone or something is not able to be "controlled." The participants were able to get past the momentary interruption and continued with the service. 

When I first hear that this event was happening, I was puzzled. Had something happened to a mosque in DC that required Muslims to relocate? No, this was a gesture of stewardship. I thought about that some more. I am someone who believes that we, all of us who say we are people of faith, are approaching the same One God. There are those who prefer Goddess, but I use the term God. I also strive to avoid referring to God as a male figure, unless I am referring to Jesus Christ, who I believe is not only a male figure, but the symbol of a fully-realized man who does not see women and the spirit of the feminine as a threat to his manliness and is so completely at one with the One that he is indistinguishable from that source of Holy. I believe that the Holy Spirit is the mysterious, sometimes impish, essence of God that is always around us, above us, below us, and within us, and not only descended onto Jesus at baptism but was part of Jesus from his formation. I am, therefore, very much a Christian. That said, if people don't hold my same Trinitarian views and have a different way of accessing the Divine, who am I to say, "No, you're wrong!"? I believe that as long as people are turning their faces toward more Love, more Light, more Wisdom, then, in my theology as of November 18th, Jesus would join me in rejoicing that some of the "other sheep" have also found their way back to the flock. At times in my discussions with people who also call themselves "Christian" and even "Episcopalian," I have found that my views don't jive with their views of the Almighty, or this idea that there is One God. And from what I understand, that's a lot of what the comments have been on the cathedral's Facebook page and website.

But I want to go back to that word, "stewardship." If this cathedral is called the "National Cathedral," and we are a nation of multiple faith traditions, then it would seem to me that we would open the doors to other faiths as a way of being good stewards to our brothers and sisters of other traditions. As best as I can tell, this gesture of reconcilliation did nothing to disrupt the worship of Episcopalians who call the Washington National Cathedral their church home. In fact, it might have actually planted the seeds for some important, powerful, and spiritual work that I think we must start doing: namely, recognizing the divinity of other people who aren't like us and beginning to address the wounds that have kept us hurting and angry at each other for centuries. It will take a long, long time to do this work, longer than my lifetime, that's for sure. I applaud our Episcopal dean for making a move in this direction. 

Stewardship isn't just about time, talent and treasure. It's about living into our every day call to love one another as we have been loved by Christ... including the call to reach out to the stranger and welcome them in as part of the human family. 

Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burnin'

There is the old saying that you should never discuss religion or politics, but I am going to violate that rule and do both in the same post.  It just can't be avoided.

The Gospel lesson from this Sunday was the story of the wise and foolish bridesmaids and their oil lamps. There were ten. Five were the wise ones who brought along extra oil for their lamps; the other five were fools who only brought enough for the hour or so that they thought they needed it. When the bridegroom was late arriving, the foolish ones demanded that the wise ones give up some of their oil. The wise ones say, "No, go buy your own oil," and so the five underprepared bridesmaids go off to get more oil. While they are away, the bridesgroom arrives and greets the wise ones who stuck around with their extra oil. When the fools come back and realize that they'd missed the party and the door was closed to them. And bang as they would on the door, the bridesgroom wouldn't let them in because he didn't know who they were. Jesus ends this teaching with, "Keep awake therefore for you know neither the day nor the hour." (Matt 25:13).

What a wonderful parable to illustrate the voting public of Florida! Only 50-percent turned out to the polls statewide last Tuesday. The other 50-percent, who had ample opportunity to vote early, mail in a ballot, or make plans to vote on Election Day, just simply didn't do it. In my viewing of this situation in light of the Gospel, I would say that the 50-percent who did vote are likely the ones who still have enough oil. Others might argue that the wise ones were those who didn't bother to vote. "The system is rigged," they say. "Money has bought elections," they complain. But these are the fools who don't realize that all the money that got poured into negative campaign ads that play ad nauseum during election season are designed to keep people from voting, and thinking they're the smart ones for believing that "Everyone is a scumbag, so what's the point?" As I have pointed out in posts on social media, Big Money has figured out how to do a lot of things, but the one thing it still doesn't know how to do is stand in the privacy booth and mark a ballot. It can influence the person who is doing the marking, but it takes a person to go vote. By not voting, Big Money wins. Everyone knows that when there is a large voter turnout in Florida, the Democratic Party is more likely to win. And while I'm not a fan of the Democratic Party, their candidates are usually more in line with my thinking, especially on gay rights and the environment.

So, if the 50-percent who did vote are like the wise bridesmaids,  how did we re-elect our climate change denier Governor and the anti-gay attorney general? Because clearly the 50-percent who did vote still do care, and still do see the vote as the one and only way to influence democracy. Those people exist in all political stripes: Republican, Democrat, Independent, Socialist, Green, etc. And, as I said when it comes to Florida elections, if voter turn out is low, it's usually those more likely to vote for Democrats who stay home because they are easily dissuaded from casting ballots. So,--yes-- I am saying Florida Democrats are fools, and have behaved as fools. Their party has lived from election-to-election and done nothing to build up their potential leadership in the meantime. As such, they are more likely to run out of oil, and let their lights go out. Certainly, that was my take away from this election.

But what about those of us who did vote and were on the short-end of the stick? What are we to do now?

The offertory anthem, "Keep Your Lamps" by Andre Thomas, that we sang at St. Thomas contains the perfect instruction:

Keep your lamps, trimmed and burnin'

Keep your lamps, trimmed and burnin'

Keep your lamps, trimmed and burnin'

The time is growing nigh!

Children don't grow weary

Children don't grow weary

Children don't grow weary

'til your work is done!

If we cared enough to vote, even in those instances when we were less-than-excited about the particular candidate, then we clearly have enough oil left in our beings to keep our lamps lit up in the hope of justice and freedom from those things that hold us back. Yes, the re-election of certain people is discouraging. But leaders come and go, and our collective lights can out last them if we carefully tend to that flickering flame of Love.

In the meantime, I can only hope the fools will actually purchase oil and not water as we await the next round of elections in two years.

You Can't Hide Your Light: National Coming Out Day 2014

‘No one after lighting a lamp hides it under a jar, or puts it under a bed, but puts it on a lampstand, so that those who enter may see the light. For nothing is hidden that will not be disclosed, nor is anything secret that will not become known and come to light. --Luke 8:16-17

Let these two sentences sink in for a minute. Today is National Coming Out Day, and when I read these words out of Luke's gospel, I smiled broadly and thought, "Yes!" This is the truth of what it is for a person who comes out. The moment that a person ignites the spark and puts it to the candle of their inner truth, there's no way to hide it. And why would they? The realization that one is gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender is a bigger personal shift than most people understand. There's the whole process an individual goes through to figure out why he or she doesn't feel "right." Society, and all its various cultural institutions, are geared toward being heterosexual. So, if you're not that, then you tend to feel "weird" and out-of-place. And, for many, they don't know what "it" is that makes them feel so ill-at-ease. Once they discover what "it" is, it's as if all of their life finally starts to make sense and fall into place. Lack of confidence gets replaced with a sense of worth that they were hitherto unable to wrap their minds around. And, just like that light that cannot be hidden, the understanding and appreciation of who they really are shines through and cannot be, nor should it be, covered up and hidden.

There was a wonderful story shared as a meme by PFLAG National on Facebook today.

This, to me, is the way that God working through us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. Whoever was the actor or actress in that Mickey Mouse costume that day responded in the way that I believe Christ calls us to respond to someone so young and searching for the candle to light in her darkness of self-doubt and worry that the world will turn against her. Whether that person playing Mickey is a Christian or not, their response was the act of Christian charity that all of us who do call ourselves Christian would be well-advised to follow. And for all we know, given the high number of LGBTQI people in the entertainment industry, that Mickey Mouse may have been having a personal moment of realizing that he or she was able to either keep that flame burning or snuff it out. 

Not all people feel safe coming out, and that is the reality and one of the many shames still facing us in this nation and the world. For those of us who are safer in being authentically who we are, it is incumbant on us to keep pass the light to others and burning up fear to blaze a new path and a new way so that all people can come out.

Whoever you are, and however you identify, don't be afraid to let that light and spark of inner truth and power of yourself shine through. You are the light of the world. And the world will be much darker if you continue to hide your light.  

A General Observation

I have read a number of statements, articles, and opinions on the mass firing (or maybe firing) of eight professors at General Theological Seminary in New York City.

I watched, sometimes more attentively at times than others, the two-and-a-half hour webcast last Thursday of The Reimagining the Episcopal Church (TREC) presentation with questions and answers. OK, so it was more questions and re-statements than answers that didn't necessarily address the questions, but I sat by the laptop anyway and listened to what was being said, while following the Twitter chatter about the event on my iPad. Yes, I was that church geeky!

On Sunday, my ears were attuned to the Gospel of Matthew, and the parable of the wicked tenants who were living quite well in the vineyard of their landowner, and beating and stoning those sent to collect for the landowner and finally killing the landowner's own son.  The landowner doesn't obiliterate these tenants for their bad behavior and misdeeds; instead, he gives this rich vineyard to others who will tend to it and return to the landowner what is rightfully his.

And perhaps it is this teaching of Jesus that the church, in its efforts to strive to be "nimble," should really be contemplating in the wake of what is occuring during these times of hand-wringing and reimaging. Perhaps it is time to change the way things have always been done and look to different leaders, and not always cut from the same cloth as the last set of leaders. Maybe, just maybe, the church needs to follow God, and not the other way around as it so often seems to feel.

I am talking about seminary and the call to the priesthood.  It was about this time last year that I went to Jacksonville with my then rector to see the bishop. I had expressed to my mentor some years earlier that I felt called to the priesthood. She told me, "That ain't gonna happen here," because I am a lesbian and I have a partner. I attempted to avoid this bothersome gut feeling, but to no avail. And so, at the urging of my spiritual director, I told my rector I felt called. "I don't think that will happen, but let me check with the bishop." Check-in occured, answer was "no way," and I went away figuring that would be the end of the discussion. It was not. The inner gut nagging got worse. The reality was hitting me that I would have to leave. I told this to my rector who, again, made a pitch to the bishop to please talk to me. I was granted an audience with the bishop on October 7, 2013. And it ended as all had predicted: the bishop acknowledged that I was a sister-in-Christ, but due to my status as a partnered lesbian, he was bound by the canons of the diocese not to ordain me. Never mind that the larger church has said sexual orientation cannot be used as a barrier to the sacramental priesthood. As with so many things, what happens at General Convention pretty much stays at General Convention because each bishop is allowed to adapt and adopt the approved resolutions to his or her particular context. Read: if the bishop doesn't like what happened, he or she can simply ignore it and keep things as they are. Some bishops are willing to wrestle with the outcomes of GC and will take the time between these triennial gatherings to see how, or if, a major change made at General Convention will work in their context. And some are content to simply say, "No." In the case of the LGBTQI faithful,  they'd rather figuratively beat, stone or kill those whom the landowner has sent than to give up any portion of the vineyard's profits to the landowner. And we know what Jesus says is the outcome of that situation.

One of the few moments during the TREC webcast that elicited a cheer from me was when Bishop Sean Rowe, who is the bishop of two dioceses in Pennsylvania, and has, by his own description, spent more than half of his young adult life as a leader in the church acknowledged that there has been an idolization of youth in the church, and that we need to value and acknowledge all the people God has brought to the church. In that statement, I heard the affirmation that there is no age limit, no sexual orientation, no status of any kind that should be the measure of greater or lesser worth to the church. This not only is for the laity; this is also for the ordained. It is the prejudices and the barriers of human origin that bar the fullness that some can achieve in the church. One of my biggest complaints about seminary education is that it is too expensive, especially for the salaries that are offered by most churches for a priest who is still a little bit wet behind the ears. The 19th century model that says the only way to properly form a priest is to have that person go to seminary for three years, uprooting themselves and perhaps their family for three years, and then hope there will be a church who will call you is really not practical in the 21st century of shrinking church and personal budgets. In some places, there is encouragement that priests be bivocational; meaning serve as a priest while holding down another job that helps pay the bills. Many churches these days cannot afford full-time clergy. I certainly get that. And if I am ever ordained, I have no intention of giving up my massage therapy license. But will a congregation accept and understand that their bivocational priest cannot be a full-time rector and able to be at their doorstep or hospital bed  immediately when a crisis hits?

The question being asked repeatedly during the webcast was, "What are we willing to sacrifice?" New ways of formation for priests, and new paradigms for the practical workings of the vocation? Good questions to ponder.

 

Ups and Downs

This past week has been a rollercoaster ride on the news front.

There was much celebration and rejoicing at the news that the Church of England has finally said, "Yes," to women becoming bishops.  However, there is a caveat: if a congregation objects to a female see, they can request oversight from a male bishop.  And the seeds of likely schism begin to be sowed. Still, there is something to be joyful about.  As the Reverend Elizabeth Kaeton of "Telling Secrets" aptly noted: the Church of England has dipped a big toe into the baptismal font of the 20th century.  And those in the Southeastern United States say, "Bless their hearts!"

As you might imagine, this caused much venomous grumbling and declaring the Church of England apostate and all kinds of other nastiness coming from the Anglican Church of North America and their lot.  A Facebook friend, and fellow Episcopalian who is attending St. John's in Tallahassee, made the mistake of visiting the ACNA sites and seeing, first-hand, what hate they harbor toward the Episcopal Church, and anyone who believes women... and by extension the LGBT faithful...have a place in the church.  He noted that St. John's suffered a very painful schism back in 2005 when the rector marched out on a Sunday with many of the most wealthy and well-connected members of the congregation to start his own church.  Seeing the commentary on the CoE vote only served to rip the scab off the wound of that event for him.   Like with so much that makes headlines, my friend had seen the ugliness and recalled the pain as if it were yesterday that this split had occurred.  

But it wasn't yesterday: it was on October 2, 2005.  And, as I responded to him, that was the day that the chains that had barred so many faithful queer people, me and him included, came off the doors of St. John's.  Terrible, awful, rotten-to-the-core event that it was, that split had to happen, in my opinion, if St. John's Episcopal Church was going to be saved from its long bath in the sinful waters of homophobia.  The place was burning with anger and rage toward the Episcopal Church, and there was an air of suspicion that hung over every conversation in the place.  So it was time for the fire to be extinguished.  And out of those ashes came new life.  It took time but today that parish is doing very well. 

Also doing well has been the fight for marriage equality in Florida and elsewhere.  A Monroe County Circuit Court judge found Florida's discrimination against lesbian and gay couples getting married is unconstitutional.  The Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals also upheld marriage equality in Oklahoma.  But even with these victories, the opponents of marriage equality are still fighting on, appealing the decisions, forcing more delays of the inevitable.  The same day that the Florida case happened, the rest of the world had their eyes on the downing of Malaysian Airlines Flight 17, en route to Kuala Lumpur from Amsterdam.   A third of the passengers on that flight were activists, scientists and some of the top researchers in the field of HIV/AIDS.   The plane was apparently attacked with a ground to air missile launched from just inside the border of Ukraine, an area that has been rocked by the Russian invasion of the country.  And as information dribbles out, it appears the Russians are likely responsible for this horrendous act that has killed many engaged in a humanitarian effort to relieve suffering in Africa and Asia.  

This evening, as I sat at dinner with friends celebrating a birthday, I happened to go to my phone in search of information about an event on Facebook. I was stunned to read that one of my friends from St. John's had passed away quite suddenly.  She had been ill, but this was unexpected.  I had to excuse myself from the table to go outside, pray, and cry, before I could head back into a joyful dinner.

Ups and downs.  Life and death.  Good news and bad news.  We all want things to be safe.  But even safety is an illusion.  Part of our journey of being alive and in the world is that we will experience life in abundance... and that means we're going to have unpleasant stuff happen in our private world.  The trick is to remember that no matter what: Good Friday is followed by Easter every year on the calendar.  There is a change that comes with that, but not every change is bad... and quite frequently, it's good.

Strap in.  The rollercoaster is still moving on the tracks!

Sing My Tongue

My brain is a jukebox.  

Unbeknownst to people who encounter me on the street or in conversation, there is often a soundtrack playing very low in the background inside my head.  It's like I have "theme music" playing.  As I've noted before on this blog, this abundance of music in my mind was a gift from God when my father died.   And it is the gift that keeps on giving to this day forward.

One of the tunes that has been ever-present lately caught  me by surprise.  It's a hymn that we often sing on Maundy Thursday in the Episcopal Church, the night when we commemorate the Last Supper and strip the altar of all its finery. 

"Sing my tongue of glorious battle" is a plainsong chant.  The organ usually accompanies us until the end when, many times, the congregation and the choir sing it acappella as we stare at the nakedness of our altar.  It can be chilling and powerful.

It's curious that a tune associated with Holy Week should be so forward in my mind in the middle of what we call "Ordinary Time."  But events in this Ordinary Time have been reminding me that our Easter for this world, sometimes, feels like a distant destination and that we are perpetually caught in a loop of repeating Good Friday.  I've been keeping close watch on the situation involving the 19 year-old unceremoniously turfed out of his family home for being gay.  People in the boy's hometown have attempted to reach out to the parents and grandmother and get them to see the errors of their way.  Instead, they ignore the help, sometimes out right reject it, and continue to breathe threats against their son, all with a Bible in their hands.  

"He endures the nails, the spitting, vinegar, and spear, and reed; from that holy body broken blood and water forth proceed; earth and stars and sky and ocean, by this flood from stain are freed."

I've been saddened by this situation, and the thought that parents could be so cruel as to completely cut off a child and deny him an opportunity to see his siblings or even the family dog.  Somehow, in their worldview, treating their son and grandson this way will lead him to "change."  Still, in 2014, there is a belief out there that people "choose" their sexual orientations.  Unreal.

The good news for this young man is that, where his parents and his grandmother have failed him, others have stepped in to help.  A call to find a temporary home for him in Tallahassee has landed him a bedroom and his own bathroom at the home of a PFLAG family.  Where he's staying is being kept under wraps since the boy's father is threatening to take away the truck.  And in Tallahassee, if you don't have your own means of transportation, you are going to be at the mercy of a half-assed bus service that doesn't even take you to all parts of town.  Some folks have given job leads.  And those who know and love him from his home town are still offering him help with a little bit of cash here and there.  Good Samaritans can still be found when the ones who claim the mantle of Christ do little to exhibit the model of their Savior.  With any luck, this young man will land a job, and be able to get on his feet, get established in Tallahassee, and move forward with his life.  And there will be Easter out of this Good Friday. Perhaps we will arrive at the moment when Christ is allowed to be resurrected instead of constantly crucifying Him with a Bible in hand.

I've told those who are attempting to reach the family and talk sense into them to leave it alone for now. They've done all they can, and the best thing any one of us can do is to pray that they come to their senses. 

I look forward to hearing Easter hymns in my head.