Bishop Yellow Belly Fights Back

Prayers For The Episcopal High School Community

Morning Prayer had concluded when I learned that a fired Spanish teacher at Episcopal High School returned to the campus later in the day yesterday and shot to death the school's headmistress before taking his own life.

Senseless acts of violence can really rattle the soul, and they serve as a reminder that bad things do happen, even within the walls of private schools.  There are little details as to why Headmistress Dale Regan felt she needed to fire Shane Schumerth.  But the fact that the 28-year-old came back in the afternoon carrying an AK-47 assault rifle in his guitar case tells me that he must have been perceived as a threat, or at least unstable.

Prayers ascending for all in the Jacksonville area affected by this tragedy.  Prayers for the families of both victims, and may God's peace and love transcend the pain to touch those who are troubled and grieving.

Ministry Viewed Through a Coffee Mug

During our Education for Ministry group, we were given a reflection exercise where we had to choose an item off the center table.  We were to examine said item, notice why we had picked it, and anything that the item brought to mind.

Once we had done that, we were to consider how this item reflected our ministry.

My item was a "Life is Good" coffee mug.   Initially, I was drawn to it because I like the Life is Good series.  One of my massage school teachers always wore the company's T-shirts with the smiling stick figure drawings hanging out in a lawn chair with a beer, or surfing, or fishing, or bike riding.  As I looked closely at the mug, I found the phrase on the other side: "Do what you like. Like what you do."  I noticed it was somewhat heavy, with a thick-lipped rim.  But what I kept thinking about the cup is that it was empty, and yet "Life is Good."

That thought of "empty, but good" was the basis of my ministerial reflection.  I thought about all of the "official" ways in which I minister:  I am a co-mentor in EfM, a Eucharistic Minister, the leader of Circle of Hope, a leader in PFLAG, and very important, I am a licensed massage therapist, a ministry of healing to those broken by the world.

I looked at the coffee mug again.  Coffee mugs are common every day objects.  I thought about how I take myself, my Christianity as colored in by the Episcopal Church, into common every day places all the time.  One of the most common spaces is among those in my theater group, the Mickee Faust Club.  And while I wouldn't describe the cabaret-style theater we do at Faust as "common", the people involved are representative of the vast majority who have been injured by the church in some way and are embittered, or who just don't bother with the church at all.   In this way, I am a bit of a mystery to my fellow Faustkateers.  As I told my EfM group, I don't push the Christ message on people with lots of "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!"  But because I don't park my Christianity at the door, I know I have made some in the company have to think about blanket statements that start with, "Well, y'know, Christians are always doing...."

This, of course, is something I used to do myself.  The blanket accusation of all Christians for the sins being committed by a few.  I had had more than one or two of the little "c" "christian" persuasion scream at me to "Repent!" of my homosexuality, or corner me in an effort to convert me, or seen them in the media denouncing the likes of me.   I also was horrified that none of the big "C" Christians felt there was a need to counter these messages with the actual Gospel of Love.  Their silence hurt as much, if not more, than the ones who claimed to be speaking in the name of Christ while denigrating members of the body of Christ.   I am reminded of a passage in Romans 14:

Why do you pass judgement on your brother or sister? Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister? For we will all stand before the judgement seat of God.For it is written,

‘As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me,

   and every tongue shall give praise to God.’

So then, each of us will be accountable to God.

Let us therefore no longer pass judgement on one another, but resolve instead never to put a stumbling-block or hindrance in the way of another. 

It it this ethic that I carry with me into these common spaces such as Mickee Faust.   Because even among the ones who have never cared for or thought much of the church, there may be one who is looking for that beacon of light from God as guidance to a new understanding of how they are connected to God, this world, and all of creation.  In his day, Christ was that very bright beacon on a mission to get people to stop bickering over the dicta of how you love God and, in the phrase of Madison Avenue, "just do it!"   That is what we are all called to do as members of the eternal priesthood of the laity.  Our purpose, vocation and ministry is to live and show forth a life that others might see Christ in us.   And then it will be God's own doing that will go to work on the heart, mind and soul of a person.

The more we empty ourselves and share what and who we are, life will be good.

Terse, Testy, and Troubled: the ABC Defends the Covenant

Oh, my!  Well,  I think this pretty well speaks for itself.

After having suffered another blow this weekend, with two more dioceses in the Church of England voting down the Anglican Covenant, it seems the Archbishop is slipping on the brass knuckles and is ready to go to the mat for this document.

Again, he maintains that there has been input on the Anglican Covenant from "pretty much everybody" in the Communion.  Well, that's simply not true.  Unless "everybody" has a British accent and moves within the inner circles of Canterbury, then I maintain that there were a lot of others left out of the discussion, especially anyone of the American, Canadian, equality-for-all-the-baptized persuasion.

He is arguing that the Covenant is necessary for those parts of the Communion that "need to be in relationship."  This is a kinder, gentler way of saying those Communion partners in places where the church is a minority or threatened and are homophobic.  The Archbishop equates voting against the Covenant with being selfish and not thinking of those "bits of the Communion" who are less fortunate.  That's just rubbish.   A piece of paper will not mitigate for the threats faced by Christians living in countries where they are a minority threatened by sectarian violence.   Those who would attack the Church are going to do so, whether there is an Anglican Covenant or not.  The enemies of the Church don't give a hoot about the Covenant.

But who does care?  Those of us living in the parts of the Communion who clearly are the target of Section Four, which (despite what the Archbishop says) contains language that clearly sets up a means of disciplining those "bits" of the Communion that are following the Holy Spirit and moving in a way that makes the Archbishop and others itchy.   We are the ones likely to be sanctioned, have our roles reduced on the grander Communion scheme, and essentially make us second-class Churches.   Don't think he's capable of thinking this way?  Remember, this is the same Archbishop who refused to invite NH Bishop Gene Robinson to the once-a-decade Lambeth Conference because Robinson is an openly-gay man in a partnership.   And he was quick to condemn the diocese of Los Angeles for electing a partnered lesbian, Mary Glasspool, as a suffragan bishop.  This while Uganda continued to threaten to enact legislation that would allow for the death penalty for gay people, a horrible proposal which took the ABC some days to finally say was wrong.

It is clear that the Archbishop realizes his legacy is on the line with the votes in England on the Covenant.  And while I wish the man no ill, I hope that the clergy and laity, who have been the ones most troubled by the proposal, continue to question the need for this document... and will it really draw us together, or force us further apart?   I'm afraid it really is the latter.  Hence, I hope the dioceses in the CofE continue to vote "NO".

Get Behind Me, Satan

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.  He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.  But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."--Mark 8:31-33

Get behind me, Satan.  Whoa!  I don't know about any of you, but as a child I always thought Satan was that red devil guy with the pitchfork.   But as I got older and began seriously looking at the Scriptures, I learned that when the Bible, and especially Jesus, refer to "Satan" it is a word for "The Tempter."   And the tempter could be anybody or anything that pulls away from God and living in Love.   So when I looked at this passage for tomorrow's gospel, I looked not only at the "Get behind me, Satan!"  but the follow up line of "For you are setting your mind not on divine things but human things."   

Because this is Mark's gospel, we don't know what Peter said to get Jesus riled up.   But given that Peter is always at-the-ready for Jesus, he might have been telling him, "Hey, you can't die! You're my hero!!"  And Jesus, knowing he is a man with a specific mission and not an easy mission at that, may have been torn.  He knows he is going up against a buzz saw of Roman might and will be provoking the Jewish leaders who were happy with the status quo. The Mark version of  Jesus is the most human portrayal of him.  The Mark Jesus gets an earful from the Syrophoenician woman when he calls her a dog.   The Mark Jesus goes off to pray and asks God to "remove this cup from me" as he senses the coming trouble.  So, my sense of what this Markian version of Jesus is saying to Peter is, "Don't get attached to me the man!"  


This same idea appears in John's gospel in the reading often done on Easter Day.  Mary Magdalene, upon finally understanding that the man standing with her is not the gardener but the resurrected Christ, is ecstatic that he is alive.  But before she can wrap her arms around him in a triumphant and joyous hug, Jesus tells her, "Do not hold on to me because I have not ascended to the Father." Again, when I read that line, I think he is trying to convey that the flesh and blood body is not it.  The sum of who he is, and what he is all about, is larger than that.

It's easy to become attached to what we know, or what we think we know.  I think this is true of the people in our lives.  We think we know someone.  Perhaps, like what I imagine was in Peter's mind about Jesus, we have put someone on a pedestal as a hero.  When I was in radio, there were people who assumed so much about me based on the sound of my voice.  They knew how I dressed, how I styled my hair, my marital status.   Trust me, I shocked a lot of folks when they discovered that their middle-aged, Cokie Roberts look-alike was in fact a buzz cut, twenty-something lesbian!

In a recent exchange with my mentor, we recounted our impressions of each other at our first meeting in my dad's assisted living facility.   She was wary of me because she had heard that I was the daughter who was angry at the church.  I was suspicious of her because she was a priest from "that church."   She turned out to be an approachable and trustworthy friend.   And I now navigate a path of being not only out as a lesbian but also out as a Christian, a combination that often times mystifies people.   But, as I have noted several times on this blog, "Nobody Said It Was Easy." 

As we continue this Lenten walk, think about the people in your life. How are you perceiving them?  Do you see just what you want to see in them, or can you see them more deeply and completely?   
 

Roman Catholic Slip Ups

Last week was a terrible week for the queer performance artist, Tim Miller.

Miller, who has done several solo shows and conducts workshops for aspiring artists interested in self-narrative, was scheduled for a week-long residency at Villanova University in Philadelphia.  But the Roman Catholic college through the president's office rescinded the offer to the critically-acclaimed and provocative performance artist.  In a demonstration of double-speak, the university talked about Villanova being a "welcoming and inclusive" campus as they were saying, "No" to the Miller workshop.   No worries; four other colleges in the area have banded together to host Miller, so that the students from Villanova as well as their own campuses may benefit from his knowledge and skills.

Last week, I also heard something highly troublesome to me about the local Roman Catholic high school.  Apparently, it is not uncommon for the administration of the school to send a note home to the parents requesting permission for their student to leave campus on a field trip to the state Capitol.   Not to watch democracy in its very messy action through floor debates in either chamber.  No: the students were being taken out of school to protest abortion on the anniversary of the famous abortion rights case, Roe v. Wade.

And let's not forget that those on the right of the political spectrum have been launching a war on women!   Not that this is solely the doing of the Roman Catholic Church, but certainly the church has been squealing loudly over the demand that their health institutions and RC employers shouldn't have to provide contraception to women.  Goes against the teachings of the church, you see.

That would be the church that is on TV recruiting and reaching out to its disaffected population and imploring them to return to the church "that Jesus started." 

Wow.

So often,  I find myself in conversation with people who are bitter about religion, or at least the institution of religion (i.e. the church).   Often, the grumbling person is someone who was raised Roman Catholic.  Women in particular tend to be more bitter toward their Roman Catholic upbringing.  Sadly, they've reached a conclusion that all churches are the same,  all are hypocritical, and all can--in a phrase--Go to Hell!

I understand this anger.  Certainly, I have felt it at times in my own experience of the bumbling, stumbling, sometimes tactless treatment I have found in the Episcopal Church, too.  To the Episcopal Church's credit, however, I see an institution that has shown an ability to recognize when it's about to slam face first into the ground, and makes an attempt to break its fall before it bloodies its nose too badly.   They know they've made mistakes.  They know they haven't always lived up to expectations.  And most are willing to make an effort to improve.  I don't see that from the Roman Church.  And it seems that with the advent of more conservative forces moving into the Vatican, there's more digging in the heels and sticking to positions that the crafters of Vatican II had hoped to move beyond in an effort toward ecumenical harmony.

I feel sorry for those in Roman Catholicism in this country, especially the ones who have had to leave their church because its dogma drains them of all spiritual life.  I am saddened that some have stretched this to a rejection of God.  After all, if they have been raised with the belief that Jesus Christ himself founded this church, then where do they turn from there?

One day, I hope there will be a change in Roman Catholicism and that they will have another revolutionary growth spurt like Vatican II.  I'm just not sure I will be alive to see it.  Meanwhile... if you're an RC interested in a liturgical church,  you might look for the ones with that shield and the Welcome sign out in front....

Joseph and Rosewood

This morning's scripture from Genesis is the story of Joseph's early days as a slave in Egypt.  His brothers, bent on revenge against their "dreamer" brother and driven by their jealousy, had thrown the young man into a pit and then sold him to the Ishmaelites, who in turn sold him to Potiphar, an Egyptian.   Despite his circumstances, Joseph's talents and favor in God's sight make him a valuable asset to his master.   However, his master's wife, who can't keep her eyes off this handsome slave, keeps trying to seduce him.  Then came the day they were alone in the house.  Once again, the woman tries to get Joseph into her bed, and when he refused, she grabbed him and tore his garment from him as he ran from the house.  And, like the brothers who could not contain their anger at their younger brother and his technocolor raincoat, she held up the garment for all to see and claimed that he had tried to force himself on her.   For this, the master has Joseph thrown in jail where he, again, proves to be the model prisoner and favored by God.

This story reminds me of the destructive tale of the town of Rosewood.   In the early 1920s, Rosewood was a thriving predominantly African-American hamlet in north central Florida.  Families had nice two-story homes with pianos, and porches.   The Goins and the Carriers were two of the largest families in the town which also had a Masonic Hall, a couple of convenience stores and churches.  People had moderately good incomes, some of which the women made from being maids to white families in neighboring townships such as Sumner and the men worked in things like the turpentine business.  But one day, a white woman  in Sumner cried, "Rape!" and accused a black man of having done it.  Fueled by anger and racism, a posse gathered and marched on the Carrier household in Rosewood.   Among them was the white sheriff of Levy County who demanded that Sarah Carrier, matriarch of the family, come outside.  The Carriers were holed up in the house, afraid of this band of white men on the porch.  When Sarah Carrier came out on the porch, someone shot her dead.  Inside, Sylvester Carrier got a gun, and fired back, while the younger Carrier children fled out the back door and into the woods and swamps.   What took place after that was mayhem.  The white mob, which had grown in number, razed the town after lynching a man named Sam Carter.  Officially, the death toll from the race riot was six blacks and two whites.   But the town's residents were forced to flee, their homes were destroyed, and the psyche of the survivors would never be the same.  

Today, all that is left of Rosewood is a road marker.   In 1994, the state legislature compensated the survivors, including one of those Carrier children who had fled to the woods on a cold January night after watching their relatives get gunned down.  Many of the survivors had stayed silent for so long, afraid that if they talked about Rosewood, someone would come after them. 

And the white woman's story?  Yeah, it was a lie.  According to the testimony of some of the survivors, those who were the help, as they were called, knew this woman was having an affair with a white man.

In Joseph's case, God was with him and showed favor toward him.   One might wonder if that means that God forgot the residents of Rosewood.  No, I don't believe so.  In fact, I believe that God was with them in the same way he stayed with Joseph. 

Take for example Minnie Lee Langley, the nine year-old niece of Sarah Carrier.  Ms. Langley's life was radically altered in those early days of 1923.  But she was able to escape, find employment as a nurse, and she lived long enough to have the state, that had turned a blind eye to the violence happening in Levy County during those days, make amends and acknowledge its racist past.   The bill passed with bipartisan support in both chambers and was one of the most amazing feats of lobbying by the measure's sponsors that I had ever seen.  There was significant opposition to the bill.  House Speaker, Bo Johnson, was going to be content letting it die in a committee.  But members of the legislative black caucus, and Republican Representative Miguel DeGrandy, marched off the floor of the House during a critical budget vote and refused to return until Johnson agreed to convene an emergency meeting of the stalled committee and get the bill moving.  Republicans in the Senate, thought to be the biggest opponents of the compensation measure, justified their decision to support it by saying that the residents of Rosewood had been denied their private property rights; thus the state should be forced to compensate the survivors.  It was an historic moment... and God, I believe, was there.

As we look around in our world today, where else do we see instances of little (or big) lies that cause enormous damage and hardship?   What will we do to make sure the truth is told?  How willing are we to trust that God can take what was meant for ill, and turn it for good?