Purple Shirt on the Field!

photo by Rev. Canon Susan Russell and posted at All Saints Pasadena blog

Play Ball and Go Blue!

Normally, a game between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Chicago White Sox wouldn't matter to me.  I haven't liked the Dodgers since the abbreviated 1981 season when they knocked out the Montreal Expos from the play-offs.   And the "real" Sox of baseball are the boys in Beantown who play at Fenway Park home of the Green "Monstah".

So, why then am I devoting a blog post to this game?

Because the two teams are number one in their respective divisions?  No. 

Because interleague play is exciting?  No.

Because it's Episcopal Night at Dodger Stadium?

Yes!!

And to mark the occasion, the Dodgers have invited Bishop Mary Glasspool to throw out the first pitch.  How super cool is that??

First, you rarely see women being given the chance to toss the ball to the catcher in the traditional start of the game (a huge oversight, I believe, of many Major League Baseball franchises.)  Women are baseball fans, and there are plenty of girls who love to swing for the fences, too.  Showcasing a prominent woman at a major league game is just good public relations.

Second, it's Pride Month, and what an honor to have a lesbian be on the mound at Dodger Stadium to start the game.  Two snaps for that PR move.

And last of all, she's an Episcopal bishop.   And the church goes to the ballpark and drinks bad beer and eats hot dogs and roots for the home team just like the rest of the world.  That is the way it ought to be.  Yes, we have lovely sanctuaries, beautiful stained glass windows, and amazing music.   But part of being in the Body of Christ is to be that body in common spaces as well and remove the idea that we are so apart from "the world" that we don't participate in it.   And if there is one Christian denomination that knows how to party, it would be the Episcopal Church.  It also establishes the idea that "the world" will embrace the church and allow it to take part in its rituals of sport.   A win-win PR coup for both the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles and the Dodgers.

So, for my money, tonight's game will be won in the first 30 seconds when Bishop Glasspool makes her throw to home plate, and then takes her seat to watch two young, talented left-handers attempt to keep the batters off the bases.

May the peace of the Lord which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in the game, L.A.! Play ball!!

Crucifying Christ... One News Release At A Time

There is a vanity that takes place on earth, that there are righteous people who are treated according to the conduct of the wicked, and there are wicked people who are treated according to the conduct of the righteous. I said that this also is vanity.--Ecclesiastes 8:14

‘This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; in vain do they worship me, teaching human precepts as doctrines.’” Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, “Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.”--Matthew 8:8-11

"We must not torture the English language. Marriage is a relationship between a man and a woman and that's marriage. We supported Civil Partnerships [the bishops in the House of Lords], because we believe that friendships are good for everybody. But then to turn Civil Partnerships into marriage, that's not the role of government to create institutions that are not of its gifting. I don't think it is the role of the state to define what marriage is."--Most Rev. John Sentamu, Archbishop of York, January 2012.

I let out a loud scream from our back room last night when I opened a tweet from Simon Sarmiento of Thinking Anglicans and read where the Church of England has staked out a position opposing full marriage equality in that country.   Besides the apparent lie in that statement (at least two or three other sources in England say the CoE has never supported Civil Partnerships in the House of Lords), when I saw ++Sentamu's comment about Civil Partnerships... that "friendships are good for everybody"... I was stunned at the level of insensitivity and dismissive patronizing inherent in that statement.  This from one of the frontrunners to be the next Archbishop of Canterbury, the titular leader of the Anglican Communion.   And I wondered aloud again, "Why should we bother remaining in Communion with these bores?!"

I have heard the complaint that marriage equality, and any other attempt to open the doors of the church to include more people, is in fact an assault on the tradition and such efforts are trying to bend the institution to be more reflective of the world around it.  I would argue that it's not an assault; it's an effort to pull the church away from going over the cliff of total irrelevancy.

How many times have I read the complaints and the bemoaning of bishops, priests, deacons and some laity that there are fewer and fewer people who regularly attend church these days?   Parishes struggle to keep their budgets together in the face of decreased giving.   Schools and recreation departments schedule soccer practices for Sunday mornings.   And everyone sits around, wringing their hands and trying to invent ways to make ourselves more interesting, entertaining, and popular as a way of keeping interest in Sunday worship services.

But all the changing of music and prayers won't mean anything to the throngs of people currently sitting outside the gate of the church when what they hear in the media is such nasty and prejudicial speech as ++Sentamu's.   No one wants to come to a church that looks at the culture in which it finds itself and thumbs its collective nose at it.   The fact is that marriage equality is coming.  And the church keeps repeating the line, "...the intrinsic nature of marriage [is that of] the union of a man and a woman, as enshrined in human institutions throughout history." (Really?  Would this include our ancestors Abraham, Isaac and Jacob?)   This line will continue to push away the younger generation who don't have the same hang-ups about marriage that their parents and grandparents seem to have.   These younger people can not reconcile the message of Christ, which is one of love and inclusion, with a church that keeps wanting to wear blinders in an effort not to see the very people its called to serve and continue to discriminate against whole groups of citizens.      

I notice that the Church of England has a slogan on its news releases: A Christian presence in every community.  Clearly, not in the LGBT community of England.   I would suggest a new slogan for the CoE: Crucifying Christ One News Release At A Time.

To Los Angeles, with Love

Today was Pride Day in Los Angeles, and the Episcopal Diocese of L.A. were selling T-shirts.  The design was a really eye-catching design of mosaic-like Jesus with the message: "The Episcopal Church... and proud of it!  Come As You Are!"

I don't often shell out money for T-shirts any more, but this was one that I could not pass up.  And I was super excited when it arrived in the mail right before a big Pride weekend not only in L.A. but up in Boston as well.  I was looking forward to wearing it to church this morning, and celebrating in my own small way something that I think is important missionary work of the Episcopal Church: namely, outreach to the LGBT community.   In places like Los Angeles and St. Louis, the Episcopal Church leaves the comfort zone of the pews and hymnals, and meets people on the street for a Eucharist at the Pride Parade.  How cool is that?

Answer: Very!

Strange as it may seem, wearing the diocesan T-shirt under my vestments as I served this morning felt really good.  Even though I live at the other end of I-10, I felt connected to a community of believers who were also enjoying that one time of the year when we put aside our political struggles to enjoy being out of the closet and proudly marching and dancing in the streets with our peeps.  Knowing that the institutional church, in some parts of the country, will celebrate along with us proves that a peaceable kingdom can be a reality.  And in the Episcopal Church, "there will be no outcasts."

Come as you are!  Yes!

Switching Gears

I am scheduled to serve tomorrow morning as a lector/chalice bearer.  And being the good little Eucharistic Minister that I am, I looked up my assigned reading and practiced aloud a couple times to make sure I wouldn't stumble and bumble my way through the Scripture (that has happened to me before and it was not pretty.)

So, I was all prepared to share with the congregation the story of our often miserable and complaining Israelites telling Samuel that they want a king. I remember when I encountered this passage the first time, I had an image of these folks gathered round, pouting and pleading, and noting that all the other tribes in the area had kings...

And--yeah-- we know from this perspective that they clearly weren't seeing that they had a king, only one that could not be seen.  But I digress...

I'm not reading that passage after all.  I got a note from the man who does the scheduling that I am instead to read the alternate track for this Sunday from Genesis, a portion of the Adam and Eve creation story.   And the Scripture geek (that would be me) let out a long sigh.

Really?  OK, I thought.  That's the call of the clergy, and so onward into reading aloud.

In this particular part of the Adam and Eve story, we meet our characters in the Garden of Eden after they've already succumbed to the temptation to eat of the tree of knowledge which then led them to realize they were naked and they needed to cover themselves up.  We pick up at the moment that God is walking through the garden in search of his two delightful human creatures.  When he finds them with fig leaves, he's not a happy God.  Adam and Eve start doing the blame game; God curses the serpent and Adam and Eve, and now we have "The Fall" which is often cited as proof that we human beings are hopeless sinners and are bad, bad, very bad.

I don't buy into all of that because I know that in the other creation story that starts the Book of Genesis, we are part of what God made and sees as "very good."  Bad, or "The Fall", or sin happens when we choose to ignore our goodness, or abuse that privilege.  Being human is not a sin.  If that were the case, then there would be no hope at all because--hey--we, or the we reading blogs on the internet, are human.

My one regret in switching the readings is that there is a feeling among some that we Episcopalians don't get a good sense of the Bible.  And that's due, in part, to the snippets of Scripture we get on Sundays.  Those who are choosing to stick with Track One (as it's called) will go on a steady diet of 1 Samuel, which is where we get the whole "We need a king" whine, and eventually they'll get a very handsome young man named David as the King of Israel.  Going through a single book gives people a chance to see the build of the history that is the ancestry of Jesus and the foundation of our own Christian tradition.

Track two is supposed to be "thematically-relevant" readings.  So, in looking at what else we have... 2 Corinthians... our "earthly tent" is wasting away... these things are temporary, God is eternal... and the Gospel of Mark... where does he get the power to cast out demons?  He must have a demon himself... house divided against itself will fall... finishing with who is my mother and who are my brothers and sisters?  Answer: anyone who does the will of God.

Theme?  I guess it could be summed up in the Collect of the Day:

O God, from whom all good proceeds: Grant that by your
inspiration we may think those things that are right, and by
your merciful guiding may do them...

If we had had the 1 Samuel, we would have Samuel going to God with his worries about this clamor from the people for a king.  In his own head and heart, Samuel seemed doubtful about the wisdom of this move.  And yet God, recognizing the folly this would be, reportedly tells Samuel to go ahead and listen to their cry and give them a king.  That is their choice; God will respond to that choice.   In contrast, Adam and Eve make a choice, too.  But their decision gets them in a whole heap of trouble and booted out of Eden.  Skipping over to the gospel lesson, Jesus seems to be encountering those who think he's got an evil spirit in him; hence he's able to cast out demons.  As he says, that's wrong-headed because evil isn't going to drive out evil.  And as for who is his family, the crowd sees his earthly family and says, "it's them!" But he sees the whole of humanity and says, "it's them!"  


Theme?  I would say it's we all have choices to make: we can look at our immediate surroundings and get fixated on what will give us the most pleasure and gain now... or see ourselves in the big picture as part of a living, breathing organism called, "The Body of Christ".  And then do good, loving mercy and walking humbly with our God. 
 

Existential Insights

I'm often amazed when the Daily Office seems to coincide with my daily life!

Recently, one of my friends on Facebook tragically lost his 20 year-old son in a motorcycle accident.  His posts on the social networking site were heart-breaking.  After being up all night, he wrote about a time when he went to an interfaith event hosted at the Railroad Square Art Park.  A Christian, a pagan and atheist were on a panel (no, this is not a joke.  It's apparently real.).  The inevitable question came up: Why do bad things happen to good people?

The Christian said: it's God's will (more on THAT in a moment).
The Pagan said: it's karma.
The Atheist said: shit happens.

In that moment of deep pain, the friend remarked that he could buy into what the atheist said.  And not even being in that same place of pain, but feeling enormous empathy for this man's sorrow, I could also accept an explanation of "shit happens."

I'm not exactly sure who this Christian was that tried to assert that God "wills" bad things to happen to good people.  I suppose if we were to take the book of Job from the Hebrew Bible, and believe it to have literally been true that God and Satan had a bet on just how much the righteous Job could take before he threw in the towel and denounced God, then-- yeah-- God may actually enjoy playing puppet master of the Universe.  But I don't believe that Love is the great manipulator pulling the strings of our lives or intentionally pulling the rug out from under us.  A belief that God has preordained someone to be miserable would also seem to negate our free will to either choose life or choose death, which I believe is the constant choice put before us.

Here enter a good dose of that Hebrew wisdom literature!

This week, we've been reading from Ecclesiastes during the morning daily office.  And I have found myself taking in the words of this part of Scripture as if it were a tall cool drink served on a summer afternoon.  I was curious by the use of the term "vanity" as in "all was vanity and a chasing after wind..."   Interestingly, it means not only something "meaningless", it also suggests "breath" or "vapor" or, in Hebrew, hevel, which is an essential part of life. Such understanding makes a difference when looking at something like this;

"The wise have eyes in their head,
   but fools walk in darkness.
Yet I perceived that the same fate befalls all of them. Then I said to myself, ‘What happens to the fool will happen to me also; why then have I been so very wise?’ And I said to myself that this also is vanity."--Eccl. 2:14-15

If "vanity" is essential, and doesn't just mean something that is wasteful, I started thinking that the author of this book isn't necessarily bashing 'vanity.'   Instead, what I think this Scripture wants us to know is that while we all live and die the same whether we are "wise" or "fools", what matters is how we lived in the present time.  Are we living in Love, or are we toiling away and not getting fed in any way by anything but the product of our own hands and minds?  And are we spending all our time fretting over whether we're doing that, or are we simply living into that Love?   And that's when we can cue up the CD player to words known to all fans of 60s music: To every thing... turn turn turn... there is a season... turn turn turn.

There are times when we will die; there are times when we will live. And it all happens according to whatever season it is.  And all of those are matters under heaven, but not matters in which God is moving us around like chess pieces.  It isn't God's will that bad things happen to good people.  Bad things will happen.  Good people will die before what we believe is their time.  And yet we will remember that goodness they shared with us because we will have felt the Love that they shared with us when they were here.

In Christianity, there is a sense that even in bodily death, we have life.  That life-after-death is a complete and total unknown for us who aren't in that transition of crossing-over.   But for those left behind, the life of the one who has shuffled off their mortal coil lives on in the hearts, minds and memories of their friends and loved ones.  And that's how the deceased continue to live.  No wonder the Jews say, "May "xx"'s memory always be a blessing."           

Death happens, and there is a time to mourn.  And that mourning will give way to dancing again when we re-enter that season of life.  And don't be afraid to dance while we're alive!

For Those With Unclean Lips...

If Pentecost is an exciting Sunday, Trinity Sunday is bizzaro Sunday.  Or tortured Sunday, depending upon your perspective.  Since my return to church, I have often wondered why priests feel the need to try so hard to "explain" the Trinity.  Especially since they always want to preface their sermons with an apology that what they're giving in the way of an explanation will fall short. 

If that's the case, then why do it?  Because you have to?  Because it's Trinity Sunday and the expectant congregation wants to know the secrets of the Trinity?

I'm not ordained, but I have an answer to this one for the clergy: please don't sweat it. Please don't twist yourself into a pretzel over something that has been debated, annotated, and obfuscated by councils and theologians throughout the centuries.  This is one of those topics which will keep us chasing our non-existent tails.  The way I see it, Trinity Sunday is the final dance of a most amazing story where the dancers are moving so quickly that the three-in-one and one-in-three is so intricately intertwined that we can't distinguish one from the other.  And that's the Trinity as I see it in 2012.

What is of more interest to me was in the reading from Isaiah.  I love the prophets.  I don't think there's a single one of them who has the bravado and self-confidence to say, "Oh, yeah: I'm ready to go out there and tell everyone about God and what God wants people to do."  Every one of them is a person who sees their flaws as if they were being projected on the big screen, and yet they step out and put themselves forward to take the body blows for the sake of Love.   Isaiah is one of those.   He says of himself, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!" 

"Unclean lips", in this case, is referring to his humanity and the period in which this particular Isaiah was living: Jerusalem at or about the time of the Syro-Ephraimite war... and leading up to the exile to Babylon.  And while the people "spoke" all the right words, the faith in their hearts was questionable; hence the unclean lips.  But here was Isaiah, seeing a vision in the Temple, and yet he felt he was unworthy and now he's seen a vision of God--eek!!   Thus, the seraph touches the hot coal to his "unclean" lips and removes his sin so that when God asks, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" Isaiah's mouth opens and he says, "Here I am, send me!"

I know there have been many times in my life when I stood, or knelt, in church and recited all the prayers but had absolutely no connection to them whatsoever.  I wasn't present at all.  I was there because this was what I was supposed to do on a Sunday morning; not because I felt a need to be there.  Such a difference from when I was summoned to "Show up!" in 2007.  It was then that I  found myself blown away by those same words that I had just mumbled along with everyone else every Sunday during my youth.  I didn't have a hot coal touched to my lips, at least not literally.  But I was shocked by the depth of love in the words we were praying, and my voice was surprisingly strong and loud as I sang the hymns.  I was being re-membered into the body that I had turned away from because they had rejected "my kind."  It was as if my adoption was now complete and final, and there would be no separating from God.  The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit could wrap their arms around me in the long-awaited embrace, the same way that the father in the Prodigal Son parable hugged his wayward child.

Trinity Sunday is supposedly the beginning of "ordinary time."  But once I felt that overwhelming sense of being loved by Love, I can't say that anything has been "ordinary" again.  May that be the same for all of you, too!