Tales from Canterbury - part V

There has been so much violence in and around the Church. Very real examples of this were evident during a candlelight tour of the Cathedral Friday night. We stood on the site where Saint Thomas Beckett was martyred by his king in 1170. And we concluded our tour with prayers in Trinity Chapel; the site of the shrine to Saint Thomas Beckett that was destroyed by King Henry VIII in 1538. This site had been the destination of so many pilgrims that the stones are worn down from where they kneeled to pray. Unfortunately that violence continues today in so many forms.

As part of ordination clergy take a vow of obedience to the Bishop and the canons of the Church. Part of Friday’s discussion was around discipline as related to this vow of obedience. This discussion was lead by an evangelical Anglican bishop from Nigeria. The definition of discipline that was offered by many of our African brothers focused on rules, regulations, and punishment.

This is in contrast to the view of some of my American brothers and sisters. At least those I discussed this with are aligned with the thoughts of Arch Bishop Williams when he talked of how the word “discipline” comes to us from “disciple.” As a disciple we give ourselves fully. We follow the Church and the leaders out of love, not fear of retribution. As Nouwen said “power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love.” I wonder if these divergent views of discipline come back to power versus love. The easy road versus the hard road?

Yes, violence seems to have surrounded the Church for centuries. Unfortunately it still exists around the Church, and sadly within it as well.

Our hope though lies in looking, listening and in prayer. As Canon Condry pointed out when showing the indentations in the stone where countless pilgrims kneeled at Beckett’s shrine, “With time, even stone is worn away by prayer.”

Peace,

Tales from Canterbury - part IV

Thursday was a day of experiential learning; and it was a truly amazing experience.

A bus took us to London where we crossed the meridian in Greenwich (think Greenwich Mean Time) had a quick view of Saint Paul’s, Westminster Abbey, Parliament, Buckingham Palace and the sights and sounds of this bustling city. Astounding to me in this city, with the energy and density of New York, there was not a single car horn to be heard. Perhaps English driver education teaches this, or perhaps there is a different ethos being exhibited.

Most of our day revolved around Lambeth Palace in London. This is the center of the Anglican Church. Here we ate lunch in the gardens, and toured the palace. The walls are lined with portraits of the succession of those who have served as Arch Bishop of Canterbury. These portraits tell the history of our Anglican Church.

Part of that history is the King James Bible, written in the common language - English. On display in celebration of the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible is a first edition Bible. Respect for protocol means that I do not have a photo of this very important book, though its image will be with me forever.

We were also treated to an audience with the Arch Bishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams. Arch Bishop Williams is warm and genuine. We received warm hospitality first in a discussion and then in afternoon tea. He is a servant leader in all the wonderful ways that we discussed earlier in the week. There is so much to pass along from our discussions but I will limit it to this one aspect. Part of our role, as Christians, is to look and listen. As reflected in the Gospel of John, Jesus tells us that he does what he see the Father doing. By looking and listening we can see what the Father is doing and do likewise. For the Arch Bishop this is best exemplified by faithfulness of prayer.

This was truly a day of experiential learning. We said Evening Prayer with the Arch Bishop in his private chapel in the crypt of Lambeth Palace. This holy space is where the Arch Bishop says Morning and Evening Prayer when he is in residence. This holy space has resonated with prayer for years and will continue to do so. This is part of how we look and listen.

We also look and listen by opening scripture and reading the Bible with the expectation of learning, with the expectation of being changed, and with the expectation of being converted. The Arch Bishop provided the reminder that none of us is the second person of the Holy Trinity so in our imperfection we must expect to always be converted.

Living as a Christian means living in community. As we look and listen we keep and build relationships in community. As we look and listen we can also build relationships beyond our Christian community. As we look and listen we keep and build our relationship with Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

As I reflect on this past day I am reminded that there were no car horns sounding in the busy city of London. I am also reminded that the Arch Bishop said to look and listen. He did not speak about talking, expressing yourself, or making yourself heard. Maybe the silence of the car horns says that all those thousands of drivers were looking and listening and did not need to be heard.

Peace and Blessings from Canterbury,

Tales from Canterbury Cathedral - part III

This third day of the Anglican Pilgrimage at Canterbury we discussed ordination vows and in that context - servant leadership. There were some teasers offered of future conversations that need to occur; if not in this setting then in a pub. Entertainment tonight was the movie “Of Gods and Men,” yes we are theology geeks. A fascinating story of persecution by terrorist extremists, and all too real.

The movie centered on intolerance and power. Interestingly we discussed power in relation to our conversation of servant leadership today. A stunning comment on this topic comes from Henri Nouwen:

“What makes the temptation of power so seemingly irresistible? Maybe it is that power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love. It seems easier to be God than to love God, easier to control people than to love people, easier to own life than to love life.”

While our discussion on this quote focused on priests and bishops, this statement is universal in its appeal. I am intrigued at how this dynamic plays out in the work place, in the home, and in our communities?

“Power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love” - that is something to work with for a long time. That is not to say that I can not begin to implement the concept before truly understanding it. Starting on the path of love should not be delayed by a lack of complete understanding, rather the journey will provide the illumination needed to continue and to be embracing of love. And the journey will provide the encouragement needed to avoid the easy road of power.

I am coming to see that Nouwen, with his usual illumination, has framed the love of Jesus in a manner that is easily applicable to our contemporary context.

Choosing love over power may mean that projects, activities, or events may not turn out exactly as you envisioned them, and that may be the joy of it. I am reminded of a father’s day breakfast about ten years ago (my son was quite young); the core menu of ham and eggs seemed harmless enough. However the ingredients also included olives, lemon juice, and green food dye. Through power my wife or I could have assured that the meal was prepared in a conventional manner. Through love I was served a memorable meal (that I hope to never repeat) and to this day that meal continues to feed me with great joy and love.

My prayer tonight from Canterbury is that you may be guided by love, and that you may love others fully.

In the love of Christ, Peace and Blessings,

Tales from Canterbury Cathedral - part II

Tuesday was the first official day of the Canterbury Scholars Program. It was a day of more formal introductions and study. There was time for a walk around Canterbury, as well as dinner at the Deanery.

One of our topics today was reading the Bible and our early memories of the Bible. I have come to realize that I was raised in a home that though we attended church we did not own a Bible. And I know that I am not alone in that experience. The Bible was read as part of church liturgy, but not at home and not by laity.

I was constantly reminded of the story of why Episcopalians like the Bible so much - they like the Bible because it quotes the Book of Common Prayer so often. That story tells much of how a person could be raised in the Episcopal Church and not read the Bible.

Several colleagues with Evangelical childhoods told stories of how the Bible had been used as a weapon to force a particular behavior. There were also challenges between kids to show how quickly you could locate a particular passage in the Bible. For some the Bible was read at family meals. One person from south Asia told of using the Bible to learn to read because it was the only book available.

A particularly strong story was told by one of our brothers from an African nation where persecution of Christians is still common. When he was a child thieves broke into his home and stole everything; every belonging was gone. Several days later the bag in which he kept his personal belongings was located. It was empty of all his toys and possessions. Empty except for the Bible that his mother gave him at age eight. The thieves had left behind the Bible. That Bible remains a treasure these decades later.

What became evident from our discussion is that as we read the Bible we often find questions rather than answers. These questions are a gift from God. So why do we resist receiving these gifts? Why do we resist the formation that occurs when we read the Bible?

This poem, shared with us by The Rev. Dr. Kathy Grieb, may help us to see how we can best learn to read the Bible, accept the gifts of questions that God gives us, and cherish the formation that occurs.

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside a poem’s room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin by beating it with a hose

to find our what it really means.

Billy Collins

May the Bible be for you a poem with which to dance.

Peace and Blessings from Canterbury,

Tales from Canterbury Cathedral

This marks the beginning of a two week Anglican Pilgrimage at Canterbury Cathedral. This is a gathering of 33 seminarians or recently ordained priests from all over the Anglican Communion. We have participants from North America, South America, Australia, Africa, and Asia. There are so many differences among this group, yet I already see so much commonality. I am looking forward to learning from my new friends.

Monday was a day of arrivals for most of the participants. As people arrived, lunch or afternoon tea or dinner became a time of informal introductions. Tuesday will begin the formal program. Even this informal meeting time has brought several observations that I want to share. These simple observations indicate the great fruit that will become evident in the future discussions.

First observation: English speaking countries have fewer multi-lingual residents. It is not unusual for non-primary English speaking countries to master three or four languages. In English-primary countries being bi-lingual is still unique.

Second observation: When meeting each other the participants from African nations would note, when a border was shared, that “you are my neighbor.” Even those who do not share a border were “my brother.” This is not the type of response Americans have shared with people from neighboring states or Canada or Mexico. The sense of “neighbor” differs. It causes me to ponder the sense of neighbor that Christ envisioned.

This final observation struck me personally as I move from the corporate world to the world of faith. A fellow MBA holder commented that Bishops and clergy are now more comfortable with the language of business rather than the discussion of the Holy Spirit. Growth projections, revenue, marketing have replaced the role of the Holy Spirit. This type of discussion and language is more comfortable for most people. It avoids the uneasy and uncertain discussion around theological reasoning. After all, how do you graph the Holy Spirit?

I wonder what we are protecting our selves from by retreating to the language of the secular corporate world. What are those around us loosing when clergy don’t invite them into the language and world of faith? Is it opening communication to use business language and tactics, or is it compromising the Church?

From Canterbury Cathedral I wish you Peace and Blessings,

Feed the Community

Yesterday we celebrated the life of a wonderful priest, The Rev. Dr Erica Brown Wood. She was the priest who started me along a path of formal discernment that is leading towards my own ordination. She was wonderful in suggesting books to read and asking questions to fuel my thinking. Serving at the altar with her and hearing her preach were all learning occasions. Watching her battle cancer was an inspiration. Knowing she died with Christ is an inspiration. She will forever affect my ministry.

Erica's death is not the only loss that I have experienced this year. (Interestingly, my “year” is currently based more on the academic calendar than the annual calendar.) Earlier this year a college friend also lost a battle with cancer. In both of the deaths I noticed that their respective Facebook pages came alive with comments from friends. It was as if those posting the comments fully expect that there is high-speed internet and Facebook in heaven.

The VTS community also experienced the journey of a student and his long struggle with a brain injury and the ultimate journey to heaven. John was at VTS for only a semester when he slipped on ice and suffered a brain injury, but in that short time he touched all our lives and the lives of those around him. His journey was chronicled daily by his wife Joy. His struggles and successes, and his ultimate reunion at the Heavenly Banquet were all described on Facebook.

I then remembered that the VTS chapel, which burned on October 22, also has a Facebook page chronicling the life and death and resurrection of that Holy Space.

In each of these situations many people learned of the deaths through Facebook. As a means of communication the information spread rapidly. As a method to facilitate healing I am not sure that Facebook is up to the task.

As Christians we are called to be in community. Breaking bread and sharing the Cup in a virtual manner is not the same. The conversations surrounding joy and pain are too complex for a virtual discussion. What the body position tells us, how the silence speaks these are lost in a virtual community. Morning Prayer online is not the same as Morning Prayer in community with two or three people or forty people. Our virtual communities will keep us connected, will get us information quickly, will form new connections. However, it is our flesh and blood communities that feed us. Just as we are fed by the Body and Blood of Christ, so too are we fed by the very real presence of those in our community.

Shalom,

Being an Icon for God

Originally preached at Saint Patrick’s Episcopal Church and Day School on Epiphany 4, 30 January 2011. Based upon the text of Matthew 5:1-12.

There is a proposal within the Episcopal church to increase the recognition of the number of Saints. The new book “Holy Women, Holy Men; Celebrating the Saints” includes 340 people. I have recently begun to read about each person on their specified day of recognition. This has become part of my personal daily spiritual practices and at least for a theological geek like me it makes for great reading.

Yesterday, Saturday the 29th was set aside to remember Andrei Rublev. That is not a name that most people know. However, Andrei Rublev is recognized as Russia’s greatest creator of icons. He lived during the 1300 and 1400s. He is not likely to show up as a “Jeopardy” answer, yet his impact spans centuries.

Icons, like those of Rublev, are created on wood with gold leaf and tempura paint. While an icon is a two dimensional image of a saint or a bible scene it is not a physical portrait. It is meant to provide immediate access to the spiritual and the divine within the image. Writing an icon is a spiritual exercise. It is created with prayer. Ultimately, an icon is a window through which we can pray. It allows us, as Fr Kurt mentioned last week, to connect and when God says “Can you hear me now?” you can answer, “Yes, thanks be to God.”

What I loved about the description in the book about Andrei Rublev is the statement: “As Jesus was the icon of God, so each one of us is also.”

I have come to realize that this book is full of icons of God. Not in the sense of the painted piece you can hold in your hands, but in examples of our brothers and sisters who have lived a life as an icon of God. There are 340 examples of icons of God on the pages of the book. Here are a few of those:

Florence Tim-Oi in 1944 became the first woman ordained a priest in the Anglican Communion. As she served in Hong Kong and China she modeled for us Jesus’ words “Blessed are the meek.” When controversy stirred around her role as priest she stepped back and did not serve as a priest until many years later when the Anglican Communion recognized her priesthood. For her meekness was not an attribute to display but an attitude of the heart.

William Lloyd Garrison and Maria Stewart show us how Jesus wants us to “hunger and thirst for righteousness.” In the early 1800s in Boston Garrison started an antislavery paper, The Liberator. He said “I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation. Tell a man whose house is on fire to give a moderate alarm.” He opened his paper to contributions from black and female writers. Maria Stewart, a free-born African American was one such writer. Their hunger and thirst for righteousness led to action.

Lillian Trasher, born in Georgia, was so moved in 1909 by the testimony of a missionary that she knew God was calling her. Opening her Bible the pages fell open to Acts and she read: “I have seen the affliction of my people which is in Egypt.” Lillian Trasher looked outward rather than inward. Blessed are those who mourn; she mourned for those in Egypt, in 1911 she began caring for one sick orphan child. Her orphanage grew and by her death 50 years later she had cared for 25,000 Egyptian children. Her orphanage continues operating today.

Nicholas Ferrar recognized that “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” His family was prominent in the Virginia Company, the sponsors of Jamestown. But Nicholas knew there was more; he created an Anglican religious community in England. The community devoutly observed the rites of the Book of Common Prayer, the fasting, the vigils, and meditations. He created an opportunity to heal the poor in spirit.

These individuals are examples of what Jesus is telling us in today’s Gospel. He is describing to us how to be an icon of God; these people were icons of God.

During this past month, I have had the opportunity to serve an internship along side of Saint Patrick’s school chaplain. During one of the 6th grade classes I stood in this very space explaining to the students about icons. I explained how they are created on wood with gold leaf, tempura paint, and with prayer. I talked about icons being a window through which you pray. I also discussed that icons were part of the divisiveness of the protestant reformation. That as a result of the reformation many beautiful icons were destroyed because they were considered idol worship. A bright young 6th grader said that she agreed - it was idol worship. When I started my internship I was reminded that in a school environment your faith is often probed and questioned - this was one such moment.

I too had once struggled to make sense of icons so I decided to tell this group of 6th graders how I came to appreciate them. I told them that Rublev created many icons that were windows to the spiritual and the divine, but the one that has always spoken to me was his depiction of the Trinity. On the surface this icon shows the three angels that visited Abraham. But it was through the writings of Henri Nouwen that I came to see more. As Nouwen describes, this icon shows us Father, Son, and Holy Spirit seated at a table. In the center of the table is a chalice, the heavenly feast. The icon shows how Father, Son and Holy Spirit are looking at each other with love and respect. They are modeling for us that though we are many, we are one.

This icon also has an empty seat at the table. That seat is open for you, and for me. I look at the empty place at the table and know that I am, and you are also, being invited to be a disciple of the Lord. We are being invited to be an icon of God.

This thoughtful young woman looked at me and her face and eyes conveyed what she said “that story is beautiful, I think I like icons now.”

It was these 6th graders who confirmed to me that we are to be icons of God. But even more than that we need to make the icon come to life.

When I preached in the school chapel last week I was reminded we are Christ’s body here on earth. We are his hands, his arms, his voice and his heart.

We are icons of God. We are Christ’s body here on earth.

In the words of Saint Teresa of Avila let us pray:

Christ has no body now but yours.

No hands, no feet on earth but yours.

Yours are the eyes through which He looks

Compassion on this world.

Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good.

Yours are the hands with which He blesses all the world

Yours are the hands

Yours are the feet

Yours are the eyes

You are His body

Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Amen