Today is October 12th. In most of Latin America this is "Dia de la Raza," "Day of the Race." It celebrates the arrival of Christopher Columbus on the shores of a Caribean island and the great encounter of Western European culture with its economy, technology and deseases with two great American cultures with their economies, technology and deseases--first the Aztec of central Mexico and later the Inca in western South America. The encounter was characterized by warfare, looting, romanticism, intermarriage and eventually, the emergence of a race of people who are mixed in blood and culture. That mixture is refered to as "mestizo," or "mixture." People who identify themselves as mestizo comprise the vast majority of people in Latin America. Their first language is usually Spanish or Portuguese. They do not associate with the circles of power or with the indigenous populations, though they may very well speak their languages. They are in the middle of society, culture and race, they are mestizo. Christopher Columbus' arrival, with all the negative consequences, is nonetheless heralded as the seminal moment for the beginning of a people. This is their creation story. October 12 is celebrated universally as a day of great significance.
In the world dominated by those areas conquered by England and Germany, however, the sentiment is very different. The coming of the English and German happened later, and in many ways, in spite of Columbus, as if to capitalize on something belonging to another European Crown without having to pay dues. The English and German took very few local wives, but rather brought their women with them. Through warfare or deseases they replaced rather than mixed with the local peoples. The day is named for the man, not the result of his coming. The focus is on history of the day, not the history since that day. This is not a creation story, it is a stone in the creek across which a people stepped. Many people treated today as a normal work day, even schools and universities met in normal sessions.
An article in today's Killeen Daily Herald indicated that some schools were remembering Columbus and the events of his life. Characteristic of many school classrooms, an "accurate" rereading of history is sought that seeks to debunk the hero status of the man. The ill effects of his coming are discussed as well as the positive. His human errors are highlighted. One school classroom put him on trial, found him guilty of crimes against humanity, and sentenced him to life in prison. Obviously, these are Anglo-centric schools.
So who is right? Both and neither. Latin America is only now beginning to rethink its stance toward minorities, and it is calling into question the idealized view of the explorer that has held him in so high esteem for more than 500 years. It is long overdue. But on the other hand, their recognition of his coming as the seed of their race is rightly celebrated. Anglo-Americans are perhaps more objective in their reading of history, but must mitigate against use of this to hide a latent anti-Hispanic sentiment. They cannot disparage mestizos because Columbus wasn't always a saint. After all, most Anglo-Americans, if they took a careful look at their own histories, would find they, too, are mestizo, a melting-pot of races and cultures from many places, and most Hispanics, if they took a hard look at their own histories, would recognize their own indiscriminate elimination of minorities.
In the final analysis, it is only as we listen to one another openly and honestly, without giving up our own identity, that we can learn and grow into a community that honors diversity and celebrates unity. Perhaps that is even Godlike--the Christian God anyway, who is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, three distinct persons in one unified Godhead.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Pentecost 19, Proper 23 October 11, 2009
St. Christopher's Episcopal Church Rev. Paul Moore
Radical Discipleship
I recently read a book by an 18th century theologian named William Law. When I first got into the book my response was, "This man is a Puritan in Anglican clothing!" He argues for strict adherence to daily prayers at dawn, at 9, at noon, at 3, at nightfall, and just before going to bed. He only lacks one for the 7 monastic hours. And he gives you a theme for each time, arguing the suitability of it for that time of day. He recommends chanting the psalm, because of what it does to your soul. He's very persuasive.
He argues for the godly use of money: Anything over what it takes to live a decent life should be dedicated to caring for the poor. It is God's requirement that we use our resources to care for the needy, for in doing so we care for Him. He argues for the godly use of leisure: Dances, parties and the playhouse are all wastes of our time, they distract the soul, and put into our heads ideas and values that are not godly. The last chapter is, perhaps, the most commanding. He takes on the argument that religion is for the weak of constitution and intelligence. He argues that if you had a benefactor that supplied what you needed, would you not take care to cultivate your relationship with that person? If you had someone who cared for your physical wellbeing, would you not hold that person in high regard? If you had a prince who demanded good from his subjects, would you not obey? How, then, do we not hold our relationship with God, who is our ultimate benefactor, care-giver and King, the highest level of importance in our lives? The name of the book: A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.
Jesus is constantly making a serious case for a devout and holy life. A young man comes up to Him just as He is about to leave on a trip. Apparently it didn’t seem like that much of an interruption, all he wanted was a quick and easy answer. We do that to things of secondary importance in our lives. The man asks Jesus, “What must I do to be saved?” Quick and easy answer there—we all know the answer to that one, right? "Whoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved" Paul says it in Romans 10:13, giving voice to Psalms 38 and 116. But Jesus doesn't give him that answer, because he knows it. What the young man doesn’t understand is that knowledge and action must be connected or it's not really knowledge. In other words, Jesus is setting the pattern picked up by William Law.
So Jesus sets the trap: “Why do you call me ‘good?’ (as if to quickly and easily ascribe to Me something you don't understand?) What do the commandments say?” But the man gets defensive: “I've done all these things since my youth.” The man is obviously either lying through his teeth or he's in serious denial. Jesus gives him the simple answer which is also the hardest one. Go, rid yourself of the one idol that rules in God's place in your heart. Sell your rather substantial estate and give it to the poor, and let Me reign in your heart instead. One of the saddest lines in the Bible follows: The man went away sad, for he had many possessions.
The disciples are astounded. In a world where possessions were an indication of God's favor and poverty was evidence of God's curse, to choose poverty as the path toward godliness ran against everything they thought about God's favor. But God is not money, and the lack of money is not the lack of God. The one who is serious about a spiritual walk will always seek to debunk the idol that so quickly steals onto the throne of one's heart. No wonder many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.
The serious call to a devout and holy life is the call to the stewardship of one's soul. It recognizes that one cannot separate the outer actions that express our stewardship of life and the effect those actions have on our inner life. In fact, that inner life is the source and foundation of our outer life. If the inner life is not right nothing on the outside will be right. Good works will be done in pride, not faith, they will help the one helped, but not the one who helps. Gifts to the Church will be done selfishly, rather than generously. The church will benefit, but not the giver. Learning will be done in order to lord it over others. The truth will be known, but it will be of no avail. Prayer will be made as an attempt to get God to do what one wants. The time with God will only mitigate against the substance of the prayers made.
Being a steward of one’s soul is to be on a conscious process of integration of the Gospel into one's innermost being. It requires the discipline of awareness, of becoming aware of what one is really doing, and then digging down to the real reason why.
Here are some guiding questions that can help you probe each aspect of your inner life. Consider that you can divide your life into these three categories: Your time, your possessions, and your relationships. About each of these ask yourself these three questions:
1. Why do I spend my _______ as I do?
2. What does that tell me about what is really important to me?
3. How does that square with the demands of Christ?
Stewardship of the soul is not just about prayer, it is about the whole of life, for just as Jesus said, "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matthew 12:34.) So also, out of the abundance of the heart the soul prays, serves and worships. Perhaps William Law has something to say to our day, too.
St. Christopher's Episcopal Church Rev. Paul Moore
Radical Discipleship
I recently read a book by an 18th century theologian named William Law. When I first got into the book my response was, "This man is a Puritan in Anglican clothing!" He argues for strict adherence to daily prayers at dawn, at 9, at noon, at 3, at nightfall, and just before going to bed. He only lacks one for the 7 monastic hours. And he gives you a theme for each time, arguing the suitability of it for that time of day. He recommends chanting the psalm, because of what it does to your soul. He's very persuasive.
He argues for the godly use of money: Anything over what it takes to live a decent life should be dedicated to caring for the poor. It is God's requirement that we use our resources to care for the needy, for in doing so we care for Him. He argues for the godly use of leisure: Dances, parties and the playhouse are all wastes of our time, they distract the soul, and put into our heads ideas and values that are not godly. The last chapter is, perhaps, the most commanding. He takes on the argument that religion is for the weak of constitution and intelligence. He argues that if you had a benefactor that supplied what you needed, would you not take care to cultivate your relationship with that person? If you had someone who cared for your physical wellbeing, would you not hold that person in high regard? If you had a prince who demanded good from his subjects, would you not obey? How, then, do we not hold our relationship with God, who is our ultimate benefactor, care-giver and King, the highest level of importance in our lives? The name of the book: A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life.
Jesus is constantly making a serious case for a devout and holy life. A young man comes up to Him just as He is about to leave on a trip. Apparently it didn’t seem like that much of an interruption, all he wanted was a quick and easy answer. We do that to things of secondary importance in our lives. The man asks Jesus, “What must I do to be saved?” Quick and easy answer there—we all know the answer to that one, right? "Whoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved" Paul says it in Romans 10:13, giving voice to Psalms 38 and 116. But Jesus doesn't give him that answer, because he knows it. What the young man doesn’t understand is that knowledge and action must be connected or it's not really knowledge. In other words, Jesus is setting the pattern picked up by William Law.
So Jesus sets the trap: “Why do you call me ‘good?’ (as if to quickly and easily ascribe to Me something you don't understand?) What do the commandments say?” But the man gets defensive: “I've done all these things since my youth.” The man is obviously either lying through his teeth or he's in serious denial. Jesus gives him the simple answer which is also the hardest one. Go, rid yourself of the one idol that rules in God's place in your heart. Sell your rather substantial estate and give it to the poor, and let Me reign in your heart instead. One of the saddest lines in the Bible follows: The man went away sad, for he had many possessions.
The disciples are astounded. In a world where possessions were an indication of God's favor and poverty was evidence of God's curse, to choose poverty as the path toward godliness ran against everything they thought about God's favor. But God is not money, and the lack of money is not the lack of God. The one who is serious about a spiritual walk will always seek to debunk the idol that so quickly steals onto the throne of one's heart. No wonder many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.
The serious call to a devout and holy life is the call to the stewardship of one's soul. It recognizes that one cannot separate the outer actions that express our stewardship of life and the effect those actions have on our inner life. In fact, that inner life is the source and foundation of our outer life. If the inner life is not right nothing on the outside will be right. Good works will be done in pride, not faith, they will help the one helped, but not the one who helps. Gifts to the Church will be done selfishly, rather than generously. The church will benefit, but not the giver. Learning will be done in order to lord it over others. The truth will be known, but it will be of no avail. Prayer will be made as an attempt to get God to do what one wants. The time with God will only mitigate against the substance of the prayers made.
Being a steward of one’s soul is to be on a conscious process of integration of the Gospel into one's innermost being. It requires the discipline of awareness, of becoming aware of what one is really doing, and then digging down to the real reason why.
Here are some guiding questions that can help you probe each aspect of your inner life. Consider that you can divide your life into these three categories: Your time, your possessions, and your relationships. About each of these ask yourself these three questions:
1. Why do I spend my _______ as I do?
2. What does that tell me about what is really important to me?
3. How does that square with the demands of Christ?
Stewardship of the soul is not just about prayer, it is about the whole of life, for just as Jesus said, "Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matthew 12:34.) So also, out of the abundance of the heart the soul prays, serves and worships. Perhaps William Law has something to say to our day, too.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Someone suggested I post my sermon summaries here. Herewith the first one:
Pentecost 18, Proper 22 October 4, 2009
St. Christopher's Episcopal Church Rev. Paul Moore
God and our Pets
There is a story about St. Francis of Assisi and a wolf near the village of Gubbio. The wolf began taking the villager's sheep, and then developed a taste for villagers as well. The wolf became so fierce that no defense was possible, for whoever went out against the wolf was sure to be devoured, so the people stayed in the village for fear of the wolf. Then along came St. Francis, who, when he learned of the situation, went out to meet the wolf. The villagers were terrified that this would be the saint's last day on earth, but when St. Francis met the wolf it bowed its head to him and approached him humbly. St. Francis spoke to the wolf, explaining how his behavior was not right. The wolf made signs to indicate that he was contrite and would not harm the villagers. Then the saint took the wolf into the village, he intervened between the villagers and the wolf. A peace pact was created. For two more years the wolf lived in the village, going from door to door, where villagers would feed it. In the end, when the wolf died, the village mourned the passing of a friend.
A bit fanciful, perhaps, but down deep inside there is something in us that wants it, on some level at least, to be true. And that is not wrong--in fact, in light of today's Scripture lessons, it is very, very right. Jesus is always asking us to go deep, to look beneath the surface to discover the eternal truths.
In the Old Testament lesson today we hear about the creation of woman. You know the story: God declares the human condition to be not right when one is alone. We are created for community, the same radical community which is the Trinity, in fact. So for Adam to be alone is not a good thing. Relationship is sought with all the animals, Adam names each of them—naming is a symbol of seeking relationship—but none is found. When Adam is most vulnerable, sound asleep, God takes a rib from his side—from under his arm, close to his heart, and makes community that has the potential of reflecting that community that is the Trinity. Looking deeply we discover the meaning in the story.
The same thing applies to the Gospel lesson: Jesus teaches that marriage is not merely an economic and political contract that can be dropped when inconvenient, it was intended to create a relationship that could approximate the community of the Trinity, its intention was to display something of what God is like in the social structure of humanity. To break that link, then, has rather significant consequences. The Church has taken a softer stance on this issue than the writer of Mark. By the guidance of the Holy Spirit, she has sought to look deeply, and to create a policy that is faithful to the spirit of Christ in today's world, though it may differ from the reality of first century Palestine.
Jesus turns, then, to children. Once again He asks us to look deeply. Children are not merely the product of the union of a man and a woman. That is how we get them, but that is not what they are. They are icons of the Kingdom, their simplicity and openness teach us closed and complicated adults about Heaven. They are not only precious because of their promise for tomorrow, they are essential to us adults now.
I do not mean to imply that we should read the stories of Jesus like we read the stories of St. Francis, but there is a similarity in that both seek, in their own way, to look beneath the surface of things. Jesus teaches us to look into its depths. Here is where you discover the truth of God.
In the same way, when we look deeply at the created order we see that the fear that often exists between wild animals and humanity is not as it should be. We rightly intuit that this distance, this cosmic estrangement, is part of the fall and the curse, and when the best of us, the saints, overcome it, we rejoice. We want to believe that holiness of person heals the brokenness of the world, even that of the created order. Indeed, there has always been an uncanny connection between the saints and the animals.
St Seraphim of Sarov made friends with a bear and several other animals, as did St Columbanus in Gaul. Similar stories are told of the monastic holy men who evangelized Ethiopia, England, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Russia, Lappland, Georgia, Armenia and Siberia.
Blessed Jordan of Saxony one day while passing through a wood, called a weasel from its lair in order to admire its beauty. The fierce little beast at once trotted out and allowed the saint to caress it, and then retired with his blessing.
St. Roch healed animals as well as people with the healing power in his hands.
St. Martin of Porres, in Lima, Peru, fed the rats and mice in the garden daily and forbade them from entering the house, which they obeyed.
And we find it in our own lives as well. My son, Landon, since he was a small child, has had a way with animals that has often astounded us. Every human population since the beginning of our race has delighted in having pets. If we cannot overcome the estrangement by the sheer force of our holiness, perhaps we can overcome a bit of it by the force of our cleverness, a way, perhaps, for the common Christian to be in relationship with the created order, to name them into relationship like Adam, and to show forth the truth that in the end ALL enmity in the created order will be overcome. So, "Fluffy" the cat is more than just a cat who claws the furniture and howls at night.
She is a sign of the nature of God, and the coming of the Kingdom.
This afternoon we will bring our critters to church. We will hold a little liturgy of blessing out in the grassy place to the east of the parking lot. We will offer thanks to God for the blessing of our pets, and we will recommit ourselves to the stewardship of their lives. We will reaffirm the truth that our relationships with our pets and indeed the whole created order reflect the nature of God, and contribute to the coming of the Kingdom.
St. Christopher's Episcopal Church Rev. Paul Moore
God and our Pets
There is a story about St. Francis of Assisi and a wolf near the village of Gubbio. The wolf began taking the villager's sheep, and then developed a taste for villagers as well. The wolf became so fierce that no defense was possible, for whoever went out against the wolf was sure to be devoured, so the people stayed in the village for fear of the wolf. Then along came St. Francis, who, when he learned of the situation, went out to meet the wolf. The villagers were terrified that this would be the saint's last day on earth, but when St. Francis met the wolf it bowed its head to him and approached him humbly. St. Francis spoke to the wolf, explaining how his behavior was not right. The wolf made signs to indicate that he was contrite and would not harm the villagers. Then the saint took the wolf into the village, he intervened between the villagers and the wolf. A peace pact was created. For two more years the wolf lived in the village, going from door to door, where villagers would feed it. In the end, when the wolf died, the village mourned the passing of a friend.
A bit fanciful, perhaps, but down deep inside there is something in us that wants it, on some level at least, to be true. And that is not wrong--in fact, in light of today's Scripture lessons, it is very, very right. Jesus is always asking us to go deep, to look beneath the surface to discover the eternal truths.
In the Old Testament lesson today we hear about the creation of woman. You know the story: God declares the human condition to be not right when one is alone. We are created for community, the same radical community which is the Trinity, in fact. So for Adam to be alone is not a good thing. Relationship is sought with all the animals, Adam names each of them—naming is a symbol of seeking relationship—but none is found. When Adam is most vulnerable, sound asleep, God takes a rib from his side—from under his arm, close to his heart, and makes community that has the potential of reflecting that community that is the Trinity. Looking deeply we discover the meaning in the story.
The same thing applies to the Gospel lesson: Jesus teaches that marriage is not merely an economic and political contract that can be dropped when inconvenient, it was intended to create a relationship that could approximate the community of the Trinity, its intention was to display something of what God is like in the social structure of humanity. To break that link, then, has rather significant consequences. The Church has taken a softer stance on this issue than the writer of Mark. By the guidance of the Holy Spirit, she has sought to look deeply, and to create a policy that is faithful to the spirit of Christ in today's world, though it may differ from the reality of first century Palestine.
Jesus turns, then, to children. Once again He asks us to look deeply. Children are not merely the product of the union of a man and a woman. That is how we get them, but that is not what they are. They are icons of the Kingdom, their simplicity and openness teach us closed and complicated adults about Heaven. They are not only precious because of their promise for tomorrow, they are essential to us adults now.
I do not mean to imply that we should read the stories of Jesus like we read the stories of St. Francis, but there is a similarity in that both seek, in their own way, to look beneath the surface of things. Jesus teaches us to look into its depths. Here is where you discover the truth of God.
In the same way, when we look deeply at the created order we see that the fear that often exists between wild animals and humanity is not as it should be. We rightly intuit that this distance, this cosmic estrangement, is part of the fall and the curse, and when the best of us, the saints, overcome it, we rejoice. We want to believe that holiness of person heals the brokenness of the world, even that of the created order. Indeed, there has always been an uncanny connection between the saints and the animals.
St Seraphim of Sarov made friends with a bear and several other animals, as did St Columbanus in Gaul. Similar stories are told of the monastic holy men who evangelized Ethiopia, England, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Russia, Lappland, Georgia, Armenia and Siberia.
Blessed Jordan of Saxony one day while passing through a wood, called a weasel from its lair in order to admire its beauty. The fierce little beast at once trotted out and allowed the saint to caress it, and then retired with his blessing.
St. Roch healed animals as well as people with the healing power in his hands.
St. Martin of Porres, in Lima, Peru, fed the rats and mice in the garden daily and forbade them from entering the house, which they obeyed.
And we find it in our own lives as well. My son, Landon, since he was a small child, has had a way with animals that has often astounded us. Every human population since the beginning of our race has delighted in having pets. If we cannot overcome the estrangement by the sheer force of our holiness, perhaps we can overcome a bit of it by the force of our cleverness, a way, perhaps, for the common Christian to be in relationship with the created order, to name them into relationship like Adam, and to show forth the truth that in the end ALL enmity in the created order will be overcome. So, "Fluffy" the cat is more than just a cat who claws the furniture and howls at night.
She is a sign of the nature of God, and the coming of the Kingdom.
This afternoon we will bring our critters to church. We will hold a little liturgy of blessing out in the grassy place to the east of the parking lot. We will offer thanks to God for the blessing of our pets, and we will recommit ourselves to the stewardship of their lives. We will reaffirm the truth that our relationships with our pets and indeed the whole created order reflect the nature of God, and contribute to the coming of the Kingdom.
OK, so a millenium has gone by since I last posted. Oh, I thought about my blog in the mean time, but like a homework assignment I didn't want to get to, I kept telling myself I didn't have anything to post. But the obvious debunking of that is how busy I have been!
Falconry season has started, and I've got my hawks back into the air. They're not quite as fit as they were at the end of last season, of course, but every day I take them out they get stronger. My friend and one time apprentice in Laredo, Manuel Gonzalez, lent me a long-haired hunting dachsund pup to see if I can get my female, Pellrod, to accept as a hunting partner. At first I was very apprehensive, especially when I watched her around the dog. The pup at 6 months weighs about 7 pounds, so there's just not a lot of canine there. He's dark brown with black accents, a really cute dog, but the last dark-colored small dog I had she so intimidated that I finally gave her away to a friend who flies a bird that isn't so neurotic about small dark-colored dogs. She's turned into a find rabbit dog.
Well, this year the old bird has finally grown up. She hit the dog twice, and bound to him neither time, but just swatted him with her formidable foot to let him know his station in life. Since then she has virtually ignored him, and we've been out on about 4 hunts. So now I'm optimistic, and staring at a rather substantial bill with Manuel--oh, well, he said I could pay over time.
Bhut isn't that about like life? When we're young and foolish we take on the world, thrown into fights we feel strongly about without looking beyond to the longer-term consequences. As we mature we tend to become more acutely aware of the limits of our capacities, and then we learn to pick our battles. Richard Rohr, teacher and author, says he never learned anything from his successes after turning 40. His greatest teachers later in life have been his failures...
I guess I didn't fail at this dog-bird thing yet, but then again, it took a failure to get me to do it right!
Falconry season has started, and I've got my hawks back into the air. They're not quite as fit as they were at the end of last season, of course, but every day I take them out they get stronger. My friend and one time apprentice in Laredo, Manuel Gonzalez, lent me a long-haired hunting dachsund pup to see if I can get my female, Pellrod, to accept as a hunting partner. At first I was very apprehensive, especially when I watched her around the dog. The pup at 6 months weighs about 7 pounds, so there's just not a lot of canine there. He's dark brown with black accents, a really cute dog, but the last dark-colored small dog I had she so intimidated that I finally gave her away to a friend who flies a bird that isn't so neurotic about small dark-colored dogs. She's turned into a find rabbit dog.
Well, this year the old bird has finally grown up. She hit the dog twice, and bound to him neither time, but just swatted him with her formidable foot to let him know his station in life. Since then she has virtually ignored him, and we've been out on about 4 hunts. So now I'm optimistic, and staring at a rather substantial bill with Manuel--oh, well, he said I could pay over time.
Bhut isn't that about like life? When we're young and foolish we take on the world, thrown into fights we feel strongly about without looking beyond to the longer-term consequences. As we mature we tend to become more acutely aware of the limits of our capacities, and then we learn to pick our battles. Richard Rohr, teacher and author, says he never learned anything from his successes after turning 40. His greatest teachers later in life have been his failures...
I guess I didn't fail at this dog-bird thing yet, but then again, it took a failure to get me to do it right!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Jefferts Schori and individual salvation
In her opening address to our General Convention this year our Presiding Bishop, Katherine Jefferts Schori, took the American church to task for teaching the "heresy" if individual salvation. It raises questions about her theology of salvation. Does she mean to say that one does not have to have a personal relationship with God in order to be saved? What about all the verses in the Gospel of John that make an individual response to grace essential to salvation? Is she just wiring around that Gospel?
The definition of a heretic is not one who believes entirely differently from oneself. A heretic is one who teaches part of the orthodox truth of a religion and part that is not, claiming to be of the faith, yet not really being so. Equally, every heresy is half a truth that hides half a lie. Perhaps this is the issue our Presiding Bishop is addressing. If so, then I agree with her wholeheartedly.
The half a truth is that a personal response to grace is essential. The half a lie is that this is ALL that is necessary. We in our individualistic culture are quick to emphasize the individual response, but slow to recognize the need for community. How many people do you know who claim to have faith in the Christian God, but are unwilling to be part of a Christian community of faith?
Let me illustrate my line of thought. On August 24, 2006 the International Astronomical Union voted to demote Pluto to the status of "dwarf planet," along with 43 other such bodies known to science. Officially our solar system no longer has nine planets, but eight. That was not the decision of one scientist, but on a multi-year program to establish a usable definition of what constitutes a planet. When the definition passed Pluto no longer qualified. Alan Boss of the Carnegie Institution in Washington D.C. says of this new definition, "I think this will stand the test of time." But you see that the decision was made by an officially recognized community of specialists in the area, not by the whims of one person. Science seems to know what religion has forgotten in our country, that we know what we know about God in community.
In a delightful children's poem about six blind men who go to see the elephant, each one is described as categorizing the whole animal in terms of only the part that they happen to experience. They fall to arguing with one another about the elephant, when each is partly right and all are wrong. The allusion is made to theology, where the God we seek to describe is beyond the comprehension of every one of us, yet known in relationship by all of us. As we humbly share our walks with God we expand our collective knowledge of Him. Individual response to grace is essential for this, but so is community. What is more, the person who exercises their faith only on the individual level finds himself locked in the prison of his own subjectivity, with no correction for errors. In the same Gospel of John that speaks so frequently about individual response to grace, Jesus talks clearly about flocks, not individual sheep. The lone sheep is wolf-bait. The lone theologian will sooner or later become the heretic. To imagine that we can go it alone is to fall into the heresy of our age. If this is what she meant then I agree with the Presiding Bishop.
The definition of a heretic is not one who believes entirely differently from oneself. A heretic is one who teaches part of the orthodox truth of a religion and part that is not, claiming to be of the faith, yet not really being so. Equally, every heresy is half a truth that hides half a lie. Perhaps this is the issue our Presiding Bishop is addressing. If so, then I agree with her wholeheartedly.
The half a truth is that a personal response to grace is essential. The half a lie is that this is ALL that is necessary. We in our individualistic culture are quick to emphasize the individual response, but slow to recognize the need for community. How many people do you know who claim to have faith in the Christian God, but are unwilling to be part of a Christian community of faith?
Let me illustrate my line of thought. On August 24, 2006 the International Astronomical Union voted to demote Pluto to the status of "dwarf planet," along with 43 other such bodies known to science. Officially our solar system no longer has nine planets, but eight. That was not the decision of one scientist, but on a multi-year program to establish a usable definition of what constitutes a planet. When the definition passed Pluto no longer qualified. Alan Boss of the Carnegie Institution in Washington D.C. says of this new definition, "I think this will stand the test of time." But you see that the decision was made by an officially recognized community of specialists in the area, not by the whims of one person. Science seems to know what religion has forgotten in our country, that we know what we know about God in community.
In a delightful children's poem about six blind men who go to see the elephant, each one is described as categorizing the whole animal in terms of only the part that they happen to experience. They fall to arguing with one another about the elephant, when each is partly right and all are wrong. The allusion is made to theology, where the God we seek to describe is beyond the comprehension of every one of us, yet known in relationship by all of us. As we humbly share our walks with God we expand our collective knowledge of Him. Individual response to grace is essential for this, but so is community. What is more, the person who exercises their faith only on the individual level finds himself locked in the prison of his own subjectivity, with no correction for errors. In the same Gospel of John that speaks so frequently about individual response to grace, Jesus talks clearly about flocks, not individual sheep. The lone sheep is wolf-bait. The lone theologian will sooner or later become the heretic. To imagine that we can go it alone is to fall into the heresy of our age. If this is what she meant then I agree with the Presiding Bishop.
GeneralConvention, Resolution DO25
General Convention of the Episcopal Church passed Resolution DO25, which describes our church as one for whom the doors to the path to ordination are open to all. It is seen by many as a repeal of BO33, an 11th hour resolution of the last General Convention that called upon the church to exercise restraint in ordaining people whose manner of life would be a hindrance to the wider church. BO33 was passed to comply with the Windsor Report's call for a moratorium on ordination of non-celibate homosexual people, and DO25 affirms that indeed we are ordaining partnered homosexual people. Those who wish our church would open its doors to partnered homosexual people in ordained ministry see it as a victory, those who oppose it generally see it as a defeat.
Our bishop, Andy Doyle, voted against the resolution, and if I had been there I would have as well. Both he and our whole delegation from the Diocese of Texas see the resolution as descriptive rather than prescriptive (see his blog at www.epicenter.org) such that it requires no changes in our policy in the Diocese of Texas. Personally, I can't see the use of a descriptive resolution. Besides, my position on human sexuality agrees with the resolutions of Lambeth 1998, that reaffirm that human sexuality is only approved of in the church in the context of monogomous heterosexual marriage. But I say this in full awareness that others believe differently whose hearts are just as sincere and whose minds are just as informed. I also know that, just as the position of those who disagree stirs pain in me, my position stirs pain in them. It goes without saying that this is the big divisive point in the church, not just the Episcopal church, but all Mainline denominations.
Many are quoting Jesus' commands to unity in John 17. Many people are naming the side of the divide to which they do not ascribe as the one to blame for our divisions, which is, frankly, quite silly. Everyone knows, after all, that there would be no divisions if everyone agreed with me! It does no good to claim that Jesus agrees with me. Everyone claims that. In the long run, what one person believes is the teaching of Jesus is nothing more than what that person believes is the teaching of Jesus. Each person is locked in the prison of their own subjectivity until they enter into dialog with others. The issue is how wide a community to enter dialog with, and there's the rub. The upshot? When church unity is conceived of primarily in theological terms Jesus' idea of unity seems discouragingly elusive.
Many years ago I was read a poem about the centipede. Someone by chance asked the bug how he kept all his legs in order, how he didn't trip up. The question reduced the poor little animal to immobility, "lying in the gutter, wondering how to run!" Perhaps the unity Jesus commands is not something you achieve by trying to create it, but something you discover when you obey His other commands. Like someone learning how to drive cannot stay in the middle of the road by looking at the sides, but rather straight ahead, maybe Jesus' idea of unity is something we find we have when we capitalize on those myriad things we have in common and focus on what He gave us to do,which is to share His love with the world. In the final analysis, if we stand shoulder-to-shoulder serving food at a soup kitchen, or handing out medicines to the sick of Honduras, or pounding nails into a Habitat for Humanity house, our theological differences will be of precious little import.
So I say, let's stop worrying about unity or division. Let's stop talking about it. We've talked it to death and it's got us nowhere. Let's focus instead on showing God's love to one another rather than being shown it, on serving Christ in the world rather than being served, and on learning and sharing rather than teaching and knowing.
Our bishop, Andy Doyle, voted against the resolution, and if I had been there I would have as well. Both he and our whole delegation from the Diocese of Texas see the resolution as descriptive rather than prescriptive (see his blog at www.epicenter.org) such that it requires no changes in our policy in the Diocese of Texas. Personally, I can't see the use of a descriptive resolution. Besides, my position on human sexuality agrees with the resolutions of Lambeth 1998, that reaffirm that human sexuality is only approved of in the church in the context of monogomous heterosexual marriage. But I say this in full awareness that others believe differently whose hearts are just as sincere and whose minds are just as informed. I also know that, just as the position of those who disagree stirs pain in me, my position stirs pain in them. It goes without saying that this is the big divisive point in the church, not just the Episcopal church, but all Mainline denominations.
Many are quoting Jesus' commands to unity in John 17. Many people are naming the side of the divide to which they do not ascribe as the one to blame for our divisions, which is, frankly, quite silly. Everyone knows, after all, that there would be no divisions if everyone agreed with me! It does no good to claim that Jesus agrees with me. Everyone claims that. In the long run, what one person believes is the teaching of Jesus is nothing more than what that person believes is the teaching of Jesus. Each person is locked in the prison of their own subjectivity until they enter into dialog with others. The issue is how wide a community to enter dialog with, and there's the rub. The upshot? When church unity is conceived of primarily in theological terms Jesus' idea of unity seems discouragingly elusive.
Many years ago I was read a poem about the centipede. Someone by chance asked the bug how he kept all his legs in order, how he didn't trip up. The question reduced the poor little animal to immobility, "lying in the gutter, wondering how to run!" Perhaps the unity Jesus commands is not something you achieve by trying to create it, but something you discover when you obey His other commands. Like someone learning how to drive cannot stay in the middle of the road by looking at the sides, but rather straight ahead, maybe Jesus' idea of unity is something we find we have when we capitalize on those myriad things we have in common and focus on what He gave us to do,which is to share His love with the world. In the final analysis, if we stand shoulder-to-shoulder serving food at a soup kitchen, or handing out medicines to the sick of Honduras, or pounding nails into a Habitat for Humanity house, our theological differences will be of precious little import.
So I say, let's stop worrying about unity or division. Let's stop talking about it. We've talked it to death and it's got us nowhere. Let's focus instead on showing God's love to one another rather than being shown it, on serving Christ in the world rather than being served, and on learning and sharing rather than teaching and knowing.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Two icons of past popular culture have gone to their eternal rewards.
Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with cancer at the age of 62. One of the original Charlie's Angels, she was an icon of physical beauty and charm, known especially for her big hair. She died with her lifetime partner, Ryan O'Neal by her side. Her only son, Redmond, is in jail and could not be with her. So ends a sex-icon of the 70's.
Michael Jackson died unexpectedly of what doctors suspect was cardiac arrest at the age of 50. He started out really looking black, with a typical 70's 'fro do. Over the years we watched his hips transfix young ladies and his skin transform to whiter than my own. The droopy hair, the droopy shoulders. the droopy hips, the droopy reputation with folks older than he, so droops the pop icon of the 80's.
In the last two weeks we at St. Christopher's have laid to rest two of our own. Bernice Kilpatrick died of cardiac arrest--her only similarity to Michael Jackson. She was deeply loved by her husband, her children, and her friends. She had spunk and a light in her eyes that even just shy of her 80th birthday caught one's attention. Her husband of almost 60 years feels lost without her.
Jane Graham lost her battle with cancer, one of her few similarities to Farrah Fawcett. She, too, leaves behind children and friends who treasure her memory. Her indominable spirit drew people from across the community to remember her at her services. Perhaps the one who will miss her as much as the rest of us is her dog, Magic.
Whereas I grieve with the generations for those who died with fame or infamy, I would much rather mourn my own whom I have grown to love and respect.
Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with cancer at the age of 62. One of the original Charlie's Angels, she was an icon of physical beauty and charm, known especially for her big hair. She died with her lifetime partner, Ryan O'Neal by her side. Her only son, Redmond, is in jail and could not be with her. So ends a sex-icon of the 70's.
Michael Jackson died unexpectedly of what doctors suspect was cardiac arrest at the age of 50. He started out really looking black, with a typical 70's 'fro do. Over the years we watched his hips transfix young ladies and his skin transform to whiter than my own. The droopy hair, the droopy shoulders. the droopy hips, the droopy reputation with folks older than he, so droops the pop icon of the 80's.
In the last two weeks we at St. Christopher's have laid to rest two of our own. Bernice Kilpatrick died of cardiac arrest--her only similarity to Michael Jackson. She was deeply loved by her husband, her children, and her friends. She had spunk and a light in her eyes that even just shy of her 80th birthday caught one's attention. Her husband of almost 60 years feels lost without her.
Jane Graham lost her battle with cancer, one of her few similarities to Farrah Fawcett. She, too, leaves behind children and friends who treasure her memory. Her indominable spirit drew people from across the community to remember her at her services. Perhaps the one who will miss her as much as the rest of us is her dog, Magic.
Whereas I grieve with the generations for those who died with fame or infamy, I would much rather mourn my own whom I have grown to love and respect.
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