Proper 24 A 2014
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp24_RCL.html
Today’s Gospel has been stretched in a hundred different ways.
Some have used it as some sort of parable for the separation of church and state. Pay your taxes when asked, let the government, whatever government, get what it asks for, obey the law, go to war if drafted. God and the things of God belong somewhere else than in this world, somewhere unearthly and “spiritual”, meaning misty and insubstantial and not affecting business as usual.
Others say that Jesus is setting a trap for those who tried to trap him. Everything belongs to God, and nothing really belongs to the emperor, no more than anything belongs to any man.
But I wonder if there is yet more depth to this parable. I wonder if the mystery that Jesus wants us to dive into is the mystery of “image.”
We are made in the image and likeness of God. The word Jesus uses is “ikon”, the same word used by Orthodox Christians for their sacred images “written” and displayed for veneration, “windows into heaven.”
Any sacred image, any “ikon”, is meant to remind us of the unspeakable glory of the image of God in all creation and in the human person.
If we saw one another as we truly are, I believe we would be blinded by the light of glory blazing forth from each one of us.
So, what image do you see in this coin, asks Jesus? Who has stamped his own image on this coin, this bit of creation? The emperor? Does he think that this coin reflects his glory?
And what are you doing with this coin? Are you using it to carry out the emperor’s business? Are you using it to serve the God who has no image, no name that we can speak? Are we stamping our own business, our own agenda, over business and commerce and especially on human lives, lives made in the image of God?
Do we stamp over the image of God in human lives with the image of indifference and violence and exploitation? The beginning of any Christian action in the world is deep awe of the image of God in the other. Do we allow that image of God to be stamped with cruel or indifferent images, images that say “national interest” or “border integrity” or any other slogan, on the hidden glory of the image of God on human lives?
Do we allow the image of God in ourselves, our true selves, to be stamped with imperial images? Do we allow the divine which is the image of God in ourselves to be stamped with anything, anything less than “property of the living God”? Do we allow denigration, discrimination, indifference, marginalization, racism, anxiety, interiorized abuse, materialism to obscure the divine image?
The Christian journey is to become fully who we most truly are. Christian living is living in awe and reverence of the divine image within ourselves and in all those around us.
A modern parable presents a man who asks an old monk, “How do I get over the habit of judging people?”
The monk replied, “When I was your age, I was wondering where would be the best place to go and pray. Well, I asked Jesus that question. His answer was ‘Why don’t you go into the heart of my Father?’ So I did. I went into the heart of the Father, and all these years that’s where I’ve prayed. Now I see everyone as my own child. How can I judge anyone?”*
So now, whose image is on this coin?
*from Tales Of A Magic Monastery, by Theophane the Monk. Crossroad Publishing Company, 1981.
archived musings and preachments
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Help!
Proper 23 A, October 12, 2014
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp23_RCL.html
Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us, that we may continually be given to good works…
Today’s brief Collect, composed for the first Prayer Book, tells us something vital about our relationship with God.
Annie Lamott would agree. She is a good writer who manages to put God on the best-seller list, not an easy thing to do these days. People love Annie’s style because it is at one and the same time wise and yet simple and accessible, speaking of ordinary life.
Annie is a recovering alcoholic and has experienced a great deal of pain and brokenness. She is very candid about this in an un-self pitying way. In her little book Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, Annie places “Help!” as the first and most essential of our prayers. Says Annie: “If I were going to begin practicing the presence of God for the first time today, it would help to begin by admitting the three most terrible truths of our existence: that we are so ruined, and so loved, and in charge of so little.” Our only possible response to these deep and terrible truths is “Help!” or “Lord have mercy”, or “Kyrie Eleison” if we wish to be traditional and sound mystical.
Often here we engage people deeply immersed in the dominant culture’s message. That message goes something like this: everything is OK and life is meant to be sweet and gentle, you are completely all right and in complete charge of your life and do not let anyone or anything tell you otherwise. In the NW we tend to take life easy, and if one has some money and some good fortune life is sweet. In addition, many who come to us have experienced some version of Christian formation, or deformation, that they wish to put behind them. So messages such as Annie’s are not greeted as good or welcome news. It sounds first and foremost like “negative theology”, because people hear only the broken and the not-in-charge part, an argument for shame.
But this is the deep truth of our lives and our existence. We learn it over again when the downsizing happens, or the doctor comes in with test results and closes the door before sitting down. We learn it when the child crashes and burns, or when the spouse no longer speaks to us, or the car appears out of nowhere impossibly close, right before that horrible noise, on what had been up til then an ordinary commute.
Annie’s words struck me at the end of this week, when the demands of my multi-tasking life—rector of a congregation in a process of re-birth, clinical chaplain in a hospice organization in the midst of change and growth, occasional hospital chaplain as well—became overwhelming. I arose exhausted yesterday wondering how I could continue to make it all work. The answer came: “You can’t.” Certainly not on my own.
An essential component of any Christian life, or of any ministry, is embracing the reality that only God can make things work, that we are wholly dependent on God. Funny how the most basic lesson must be learned and re-learned, a kind of repetitive Continuing Ed class that we need to take over and over again. Perhaps we learn this truth a little more deeply each time we take the class.
The Scriptures come alive when seen through the lens of our complete dependency on God. “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us”. “Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God”. And that strange story of the man who had no wedding garment? It is said that in those days a king would hand out wedding garments to guests. All the undressed man had to do was to ask.
Ask, ask. Many of us are ashamed to do that, reluctant to admit our dependency, perhaps afraid to become some sort of spiritual Doug or Wendy Whiner. But all we can do is ask. In our lives, in our re-birthing parish as well—do we ask? Have we listened for the answer? Do we believe God responds to those who ask? Today’s Collect asks for God’s help, at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end.
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp23_RCL.html
Lord, we pray that your grace may always precede and follow us, that we may continually be given to good works…
Today’s brief Collect, composed for the first Prayer Book, tells us something vital about our relationship with God.
Annie Lamott would agree. She is a good writer who manages to put God on the best-seller list, not an easy thing to do these days. People love Annie’s style because it is at one and the same time wise and yet simple and accessible, speaking of ordinary life.
Annie is a recovering alcoholic and has experienced a great deal of pain and brokenness. She is very candid about this in an un-self pitying way. In her little book Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers, Annie places “Help!” as the first and most essential of our prayers. Says Annie: “If I were going to begin practicing the presence of God for the first time today, it would help to begin by admitting the three most terrible truths of our existence: that we are so ruined, and so loved, and in charge of so little.” Our only possible response to these deep and terrible truths is “Help!” or “Lord have mercy”, or “Kyrie Eleison” if we wish to be traditional and sound mystical.
Often here we engage people deeply immersed in the dominant culture’s message. That message goes something like this: everything is OK and life is meant to be sweet and gentle, you are completely all right and in complete charge of your life and do not let anyone or anything tell you otherwise. In the NW we tend to take life easy, and if one has some money and some good fortune life is sweet. In addition, many who come to us have experienced some version of Christian formation, or deformation, that they wish to put behind them. So messages such as Annie’s are not greeted as good or welcome news. It sounds first and foremost like “negative theology”, because people hear only the broken and the not-in-charge part, an argument for shame.
But this is the deep truth of our lives and our existence. We learn it over again when the downsizing happens, or the doctor comes in with test results and closes the door before sitting down. We learn it when the child crashes and burns, or when the spouse no longer speaks to us, or the car appears out of nowhere impossibly close, right before that horrible noise, on what had been up til then an ordinary commute.
Annie’s words struck me at the end of this week, when the demands of my multi-tasking life—rector of a congregation in a process of re-birth, clinical chaplain in a hospice organization in the midst of change and growth, occasional hospital chaplain as well—became overwhelming. I arose exhausted yesterday wondering how I could continue to make it all work. The answer came: “You can’t.” Certainly not on my own.
An essential component of any Christian life, or of any ministry, is embracing the reality that only God can make things work, that we are wholly dependent on God. Funny how the most basic lesson must be learned and re-learned, a kind of repetitive Continuing Ed class that we need to take over and over again. Perhaps we learn this truth a little more deeply each time we take the class.
The Scriptures come alive when seen through the lens of our complete dependency on God. “Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us”. “Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God”. And that strange story of the man who had no wedding garment? It is said that in those days a king would hand out wedding garments to guests. All the undressed man had to do was to ask.
Ask, ask. Many of us are ashamed to do that, reluctant to admit our dependency, perhaps afraid to become some sort of spiritual Doug or Wendy Whiner. But all we can do is ask. In our lives, in our re-birthing parish as well—do we ask? Have we listened for the answer? Do we believe God responds to those who ask? Today’s Collect asks for God’s help, at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Angels and Tracy and Journeys
September 27, 2014: Angels and Tracy and Journeys
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp21_RCL.html
and
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearABC/HolyDays/Michael.html
The God of the Bible is a God of journeys.
When we are on the road, we are most ourselves.
The People of God do not do well if they stay in one place.
Think about Jacob in today’s reading. He is running from home, running from his swindling of his father and his brother, running from his brother’s revenge. Alone and frightened, he lays down to sleep. He does not expect or even deserve what happens next. A vision of angels, a ladder to heaven, and a Voice that promises him companionship and an amazing future when he returns.
When we are on the road, when we least expect it, when we are tired and spent, angels appear. Perhaps they were always there, but we were too comfortable and distracted to pay attention to them. We need to be on the road, taking the chance, leaving aside what is familiar to take what God will offer the traveler who trusts in God.
There are no guarantees. But there is a promise: presence and faithfulness, companionship on the road, surprising welcome at journey’s end.
Well, this congregation is on a road, one of the boldest and most trusting roads that I have ever known a church to take. We do well to remember that the God of the Bible is a God of the road, a God who sends angels to travelers and who gives no guarantees, but instead makes a promise.
And Deacon Tracy is on a road as well. Tracy has been one of the most faithful of presences among us. All around us are evidence of her ministry—in the lives of our children and youth, in our ongoing presence to and with the poor of 82nd Avenue, in the journeys of those whom she has companioned, even the family area at the rear of the church. Tracy and Jim were one of my first “young adults” to arrive back in the late 1990’s. Tracy’s diaconal vocation was born here and here she has grown, and we have grown along with her.
But Tracy has chosen a new path even while this congregation has chosen a new path. Tracy will give her considerable gifts and talents to the people of God as she has done here. In fact Tracy is not going far at all—she is going to serve St. Matthew’s, a congregation here on the East side, one of the congregations with whom we share life and ministry and one of the congregations with whom we shall share much more in the months and years to come. The Eastside churches are being bound more and more closely both by need as well as by mission and gift. It is possible that we shall see more of Tracy around and about as we change and grow.
But still, there is a parting and a new road. It is sad and yet it is sweet.
The sadness is that Tracy’s well-loved presence will be absent on Sunday mornings here. The sweetness is found in the opportunity we all have to commit ourselves to the God of journeys, the biblical God, and to prepare well. Travelers, especially pilgrims, learn how to prepare and how to pack light.
We all take Paul’s words as our packing instructions. Our journey is Christ’s, who emptied himself, took the form of a servants, and embraced his mission, even to the cross.
So we take our leave of one another, but we take the same God. We take this moment to divest ourselves of anything we do not need to carry—regrets, anything unhealed or unreconciled. We embrace one another in thanks, asking one another for blessing, inviting the God of journeys to go with us all. We each continue to work out our salvation “with fear and trembling”, because it is no ordinary journey we all take. We journey into service and companionship with Christ.
Travel light, travel with God. Welcome the surprising companions along the way. Welcome the workers, especially those who seemed to say “no” but now are here. They are often the best workers of all. Welcome the angels who reveal themselves as well, the angels who may have been here the whole time but only now, as poor and vulnerable travelers, can we see in their beauty.
Let’s welcome one another to this moment of journey and change.
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp21_RCL.html
and
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearABC/HolyDays/Michael.html
The God of the Bible is a God of journeys.
When we are on the road, we are most ourselves.
The People of God do not do well if they stay in one place.
Think about Jacob in today’s reading. He is running from home, running from his swindling of his father and his brother, running from his brother’s revenge. Alone and frightened, he lays down to sleep. He does not expect or even deserve what happens next. A vision of angels, a ladder to heaven, and a Voice that promises him companionship and an amazing future when he returns.
When we are on the road, when we least expect it, when we are tired and spent, angels appear. Perhaps they were always there, but we were too comfortable and distracted to pay attention to them. We need to be on the road, taking the chance, leaving aside what is familiar to take what God will offer the traveler who trusts in God.
There are no guarantees. But there is a promise: presence and faithfulness, companionship on the road, surprising welcome at journey’s end.
Well, this congregation is on a road, one of the boldest and most trusting roads that I have ever known a church to take. We do well to remember that the God of the Bible is a God of the road, a God who sends angels to travelers and who gives no guarantees, but instead makes a promise.
And Deacon Tracy is on a road as well. Tracy has been one of the most faithful of presences among us. All around us are evidence of her ministry—in the lives of our children and youth, in our ongoing presence to and with the poor of 82nd Avenue, in the journeys of those whom she has companioned, even the family area at the rear of the church. Tracy and Jim were one of my first “young adults” to arrive back in the late 1990’s. Tracy’s diaconal vocation was born here and here she has grown, and we have grown along with her.
But Tracy has chosen a new path even while this congregation has chosen a new path. Tracy will give her considerable gifts and talents to the people of God as she has done here. In fact Tracy is not going far at all—she is going to serve St. Matthew’s, a congregation here on the East side, one of the congregations with whom we share life and ministry and one of the congregations with whom we shall share much more in the months and years to come. The Eastside churches are being bound more and more closely both by need as well as by mission and gift. It is possible that we shall see more of Tracy around and about as we change and grow.
But still, there is a parting and a new road. It is sad and yet it is sweet.
The sadness is that Tracy’s well-loved presence will be absent on Sunday mornings here. The sweetness is found in the opportunity we all have to commit ourselves to the God of journeys, the biblical God, and to prepare well. Travelers, especially pilgrims, learn how to prepare and how to pack light.
We all take Paul’s words as our packing instructions. Our journey is Christ’s, who emptied himself, took the form of a servants, and embraced his mission, even to the cross.
So we take our leave of one another, but we take the same God. We take this moment to divest ourselves of anything we do not need to carry—regrets, anything unhealed or unreconciled. We embrace one another in thanks, asking one another for blessing, inviting the God of journeys to go with us all. We each continue to work out our salvation “with fear and trembling”, because it is no ordinary journey we all take. We journey into service and companionship with Christ.
Travel light, travel with God. Welcome the surprising companions along the way. Welcome the workers, especially those who seemed to say “no” but now are here. They are often the best workers of all. Welcome the angels who reveal themselves as well, the angels who may have been here the whole time but only now, as poor and vulnerable travelers, can we see in their beauty.
Let’s welcome one another to this moment of journey and change.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Unpredictable
Proper 20 A 2014
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp20_RCL.html
“Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure…”
A lovely Collect, and a lovely thought. But simply not being anxious about earthly things is not an easy thought. Nor is it easy to release the things that are passing away and hold fast to those that shall endure.
I don’t know about you, but I am very good about being anxious about earthly things: How can I help my church survive and even grow? How can I keep on making a living until I can retire? I spend a great deal of my time being anxious about those things.
When those things do not work out according to plan, that’s when resentment begins. Didn’t I do everything right?
Today’s readings make today “Resentment Sunday.” Resentment is shot all through the texts. Jonah does what God asks him to and preaches to those nasty Ninevites, the ISIL of the ancient Middle East. He hopes to see some fireworks and divine wrath as a result, hopes to see the Ninevites get what they deserve. Jonah probably hopes to get what he himself deserves—a decent retirement and a good reputation as a successful prophet, good solid mention in the Bible with lots of quotes from his preaching.
But Jonah does not get the outcome he planned. Instead he gets near heat stroke as even the scraggly shade bush over his head withers away. And all God does is ask, “Is it right for you to be angry?”
For God’s plan changes and God’s wisdom is deep and unpredictable. The one thing that we can know is that God is compassionate.
In the Gospel, good workers are called to the fields and promised an honest day’s wage for an honest day’s pay. But the owner hires more people all throughout the day. Each receives a denarius, the fair wage for a day of labor. Those who worked all day are angry, because they think they earned more. But that’s not how the owner thinks. “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”
When our lives do not work out according to the plan, the result is often resentment and envy, even anger. What we hear in response from God is this: Do you do right to be angry? I am merciful. Are you envious? I am generous.
This is a good and challenging word for each of us in our personal lives. But this is also a good and challenging word for us here at this church we love so much. We are doing hard, challenging work, attempting to allow God to re-birth our congregation. Birth and re-birth are both small and vulnerable and unpredictable. There are no guarantees. We have already had both encouraging surprises and significant setbacks, and already some of us have been disappointed in our expectations. None of us know the end result of this journey that we have begun. Like Jonah’s mission, it is unpredictable. Like the workers in the Gospel, the only thing we know for sure is that it is a gift and honor to be called to do this work, and at the end of the day the master of the vineyard will prove to be both unpredictable and generous.
I do not envy preachers who are tasked with interpreting these texts for a comfortable community that think of themselves as self-sufficient. These texts are pretty abstract in such a setting. For us, they come alive. The New Testament was written for just such communities and just such times.
For me, part of the work has been naming my personal agenda: to be something like a “successful rector” according to the worldly standards of the 20th century, big budget and full pews on Sunday, maybe a building named "Neilson Hall" God help me; to have a decent retirement with no worries. But these are all “earthly things.” As we proceed this Fall, I think we do well to name those earthly things that we ourselves love. They’re not bad things. They’re just…earthly. At the end of our mission, we may find ourselves sitting under a withered bush confronted by the strange compassion of God. At the end of the day, we shall be paid a decent wage, only to see the same pay given to new workers who have not worked all day as we have.
But that’s the Gospel. And that’s the strangeness of a God who is compassionate and generous.
Our co-patron Paul tells us the only thing we need to worry about: “Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ… For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well…”
That may sound like a strange thing to hope for. But at the end of the day, at the end of all our days, this is our one hope. We began this re-birthing journey not because we believed it was a sure thing, but because we felt it is the right thing. Today we’re invited to hold fast to things that will endure—not memories and expectations, not buildings and plans, but God’s generosity, God’s mercy, and life in Christ. If we hold to Christ, we’ll see the face of the generous God at the end of the day. That’s the only pay that matters.
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp20_RCL.html
“Grant us, Lord, not to be anxious about earthly things, but to love things heavenly; and even now, while we are placed among things that are passing away, to hold fast to those that shall endure…”
A lovely Collect, and a lovely thought. But simply not being anxious about earthly things is not an easy thought. Nor is it easy to release the things that are passing away and hold fast to those that shall endure.
I don’t know about you, but I am very good about being anxious about earthly things: How can I help my church survive and even grow? How can I keep on making a living until I can retire? I spend a great deal of my time being anxious about those things.
When those things do not work out according to plan, that’s when resentment begins. Didn’t I do everything right?
Today’s readings make today “Resentment Sunday.” Resentment is shot all through the texts. Jonah does what God asks him to and preaches to those nasty Ninevites, the ISIL of the ancient Middle East. He hopes to see some fireworks and divine wrath as a result, hopes to see the Ninevites get what they deserve. Jonah probably hopes to get what he himself deserves—a decent retirement and a good reputation as a successful prophet, good solid mention in the Bible with lots of quotes from his preaching.
But Jonah does not get the outcome he planned. Instead he gets near heat stroke as even the scraggly shade bush over his head withers away. And all God does is ask, “Is it right for you to be angry?”
For God’s plan changes and God’s wisdom is deep and unpredictable. The one thing that we can know is that God is compassionate.
In the Gospel, good workers are called to the fields and promised an honest day’s wage for an honest day’s pay. But the owner hires more people all throughout the day. Each receives a denarius, the fair wage for a day of labor. Those who worked all day are angry, because they think they earned more. But that’s not how the owner thinks. “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”
When our lives do not work out according to the plan, the result is often resentment and envy, even anger. What we hear in response from God is this: Do you do right to be angry? I am merciful. Are you envious? I am generous.
This is a good and challenging word for each of us in our personal lives. But this is also a good and challenging word for us here at this church we love so much. We are doing hard, challenging work, attempting to allow God to re-birth our congregation. Birth and re-birth are both small and vulnerable and unpredictable. There are no guarantees. We have already had both encouraging surprises and significant setbacks, and already some of us have been disappointed in our expectations. None of us know the end result of this journey that we have begun. Like Jonah’s mission, it is unpredictable. Like the workers in the Gospel, the only thing we know for sure is that it is a gift and honor to be called to do this work, and at the end of the day the master of the vineyard will prove to be both unpredictable and generous.
I do not envy preachers who are tasked with interpreting these texts for a comfortable community that think of themselves as self-sufficient. These texts are pretty abstract in such a setting. For us, they come alive. The New Testament was written for just such communities and just such times.
For me, part of the work has been naming my personal agenda: to be something like a “successful rector” according to the worldly standards of the 20th century, big budget and full pews on Sunday, maybe a building named "Neilson Hall" God help me; to have a decent retirement with no worries. But these are all “earthly things.” As we proceed this Fall, I think we do well to name those earthly things that we ourselves love. They’re not bad things. They’re just…earthly. At the end of our mission, we may find ourselves sitting under a withered bush confronted by the strange compassion of God. At the end of the day, we shall be paid a decent wage, only to see the same pay given to new workers who have not worked all day as we have.
But that’s the Gospel. And that’s the strangeness of a God who is compassionate and generous.
Our co-patron Paul tells us the only thing we need to worry about: “Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ… For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well…”
That may sound like a strange thing to hope for. But at the end of the day, at the end of all our days, this is our one hope. We began this re-birthing journey not because we believed it was a sure thing, but because we felt it is the right thing. Today we’re invited to hold fast to things that will endure—not memories and expectations, not buildings and plans, but God’s generosity, God’s mercy, and life in Christ. If we hold to Christ, we’ll see the face of the generous God at the end of the day. That’s the only pay that matters.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Nuevo Amanecer keynote, by Rev. Pedro Suárez, Assistant to the Bishop and Director for Evangelical Mission in Texas-Louisiana Gulf Coast Synod of the ELCA
Time passes quickly, and our opportunities to gather seem so few. I do not want the learnings from Nuevo Amanecer to fade, so I will share via this 'blog some learnings, thoughts, and perceptions. At Concilio and other settings we shall make time to chew on bite-sized pieces as they strike us as helpful. A Spanish translation will be forthcoming soon after I publish each English text.
As I have said in other settings, the warmth and the power of the gathering, the sense that here there is something powerful and central happening, a new and different kind of Episcopal Christianity arising, was my overall sensation. In the Reign of God, the edges become the center, the last become the first. Frankly I feel that the Spirit of God has left church settings that remain monocultural by choice or by habit, and the power and passion of Nuevo Amanecer demonstrates to me where Spirit is moving. As I have shared in other settings, of late I feel that scales have fallen from my eyes, and I have come to think of The Episcopal Church as an ethnic white denomination being given the opportunity to become a body more reflective of the larger world, a world in which Spirit is making profound changes and breaking down barriers.
Rev. Suarez addressed core issues of this process in his keynote talk.
I sat and scribbled madly what I heard, which was presented purely in Spanish. If NA publishes an official translation I shall make this available as well.
Suarez spoke of the process of "inculturation", the process by which a people preserves their identity and culture and even language, and contrasted inculturation to other less positive processes such as "assimilation." "Assimilation" is more what happened to my Irish and Native American ancestors, and perhaps to yours as well: language lost (for my Irish ancestors that process began back in Ireland with the English imperialists imposing their tongue and punishing the use or the teaching of Irish Gaelic), culture lost to a significant if not complete extent (in my Tlingit grandmother's case, lost nearly completely). The churches btw in many if not most cases colluded completely in this process. In the case of the Indian boarding schools in this country churches colluded utterly, literally "beating the Indian" out of the children taken from their nations ("Kill the Indian, save the man" was the motto of the founder of my grandmother's school). In the case of the Irish, although the Roman church preserved a few distinct devotions and a sense of Irishness in that the Roman Catholic Church was clung to as opposed to the conqueror's exported Anglicanism, parochial schools worked hard at eliminating Irish accents and habits and tried to form a kind of generic "American identity" in order for the children to succeed financially in a white Protestant-dominant nation. Awareness of difference remained however--my mother taught me what WASP meant when I was still in grade school.
The above are my reflections, and BTW these are my personal reasons why our journey matters to me.
Inculturation values the distinct gifts and flavor, as it were, of any given people, and invites them to be part of a greater whole. We are all enriched and changed as a result.
This BTW is why I asked not long ago via FB "what do we (white dominant culture Episcopalians) bring to the table as part of our culture?" Those responses were very slow in coming forth, I think in part because we do not often think of ourselves as possessing a distinct culture or cultures. If we think of it at all, we assume that we ARE "the culture", and do not look on ourselves with an eye to naming what is distinct about us. As white-ethnic peoples continue demographically to become a minority in this nation (by 2050 fully 1/3 of all people in the USA are predicted to be of Latino descent given present trends), it behooves us to do so.
Fleshing out this conversation, Suarez spoke of...
5 Values of Latino culture
1) Family: loyalty and interdependence
2) Personalism: the personal quality of each interaction
3) Respect: proper regard for figures of authority
4) Machismo: masculinity and virility, understanding that the man is the provider, responsible for the well-being and honor of the family
5) Marianism: the values of the Blessed Virgin, that women are spiritual over other people and that Mary is spiritual above all others, that Mary is especially able to help those who are poor and suffering and that women in general are given this gift and charge as well
The above was presented not as "good or bad." It is easy to see that several of the values above have distinct shadow-sides or destructive aspects, particularly the culture of machismo. Culture just is.
By contrast, Suarez named these as five features of dominant American culture:
1) Individualism, emphasizing competition over cooperation
2) Equality: that all have the same rights or should
3) Time, as in organizing its use and keeping to time, for after all "time is money"
4) Directness and assertiveness
5) Materialism and consumerism
Again, culture--not necessarily good or bad. Culture just is.
My notes got somewhat broken at this point, partly because what Suarez said led me down path after path of my own, partly because I kept discovering the limitations of my Spanish especially when presented by an erudite native speaker! I was also stubborn about refusing the translation earphones.
But Suarez spoke of the challenge of transcultural assumptions--distrust and prejudice, of cultural values clashing and competing for dominance, and my addition is that cultural values under stress and pressure can manifest in destructive ways.
Suarez proposed "Cultural Competency" as a value to be striven for, a necessary feature of contemporary communities (a necessary feature for us at SPP I may add, and in this Diocese). Cultural competency presumes awareness, sensitivity, and eventual competence. Cultural competence means toleration at the most basic level, acceptance, and finally celebration of distinctiveness and the gifts that each bring to the community.
The risks of this process include:
1) Inadequate inculturation (there is a "loser" on some level)
2) Negative cultural values go into ascendency
3) The new culture/community assumes and remains in a lower socio-economic level
4) Prejudice and discrimination
5) Migrant status (one is always a stranger, and retains "stranger habits" for generations
As I recall, Suarez used a kind of "Johari Window" chart of various models of inculturation, ranging from loss of one's home culture and assumption of the new, loss of one's own culture and no assumption or participation in the new (this result is a complete kind of tragic alienation), retention of one's home culture but little if any participation or assumption of the new culture, or inculturation, retention of and celebration of one's home culture and full participation/competence in the new culture, bringing one's home culture as a gift.
Suarez spoke of five strengths of Latino peoples...
1) A strong religious sense and strong sense of family connection
2) High valuing of children
3) High value of literacy, especially in ensuring the education of the children
4) Economic opportunities for Latino people are increasing
5) Most Latinos look on the USA as an opportunity to work and to improve their lives
And Suarez spoke of these qualities of what he called "Leaders in Process":
1) The "Prime Directive", adopting a position of sensitivity
2) To have a genuine curiosity about one another
3) Contrasting the glass half-empty/glass half-full (a real good one in many ways for us at SPP!)What do we have here already, in terms of connections and contributions, local leaders. In all cases, the answer to the question is PEOPLE.
In any case, our tasks as a becoming-church culturally are...
1) To nurture a genuinely curious stance toward culture (including our own I may add)
2) To understand diversity and to negotiate language barriers
3) To have understanding and sensitivity, and to make room in all conversations regarding assumptions of culture and identity
4) And above all, to celebrate! Celebrate difference, and to celebrate the process!
Incredible amount of substance for us, and incredible amount of resonance with our experience even thus far.
As I have said in other settings, the warmth and the power of the gathering, the sense that here there is something powerful and central happening, a new and different kind of Episcopal Christianity arising, was my overall sensation. In the Reign of God, the edges become the center, the last become the first. Frankly I feel that the Spirit of God has left church settings that remain monocultural by choice or by habit, and the power and passion of Nuevo Amanecer demonstrates to me where Spirit is moving. As I have shared in other settings, of late I feel that scales have fallen from my eyes, and I have come to think of The Episcopal Church as an ethnic white denomination being given the opportunity to become a body more reflective of the larger world, a world in which Spirit is making profound changes and breaking down barriers.
Rev. Suarez addressed core issues of this process in his keynote talk.
I sat and scribbled madly what I heard, which was presented purely in Spanish. If NA publishes an official translation I shall make this available as well.
Suarez spoke of the process of "inculturation", the process by which a people preserves their identity and culture and even language, and contrasted inculturation to other less positive processes such as "assimilation." "Assimilation" is more what happened to my Irish and Native American ancestors, and perhaps to yours as well: language lost (for my Irish ancestors that process began back in Ireland with the English imperialists imposing their tongue and punishing the use or the teaching of Irish Gaelic), culture lost to a significant if not complete extent (in my Tlingit grandmother's case, lost nearly completely). The churches btw in many if not most cases colluded completely in this process. In the case of the Indian boarding schools in this country churches colluded utterly, literally "beating the Indian" out of the children taken from their nations ("Kill the Indian, save the man" was the motto of the founder of my grandmother's school). In the case of the Irish, although the Roman church preserved a few distinct devotions and a sense of Irishness in that the Roman Catholic Church was clung to as opposed to the conqueror's exported Anglicanism, parochial schools worked hard at eliminating Irish accents and habits and tried to form a kind of generic "American identity" in order for the children to succeed financially in a white Protestant-dominant nation. Awareness of difference remained however--my mother taught me what WASP meant when I was still in grade school.
The above are my reflections, and BTW these are my personal reasons why our journey matters to me.
Inculturation values the distinct gifts and flavor, as it were, of any given people, and invites them to be part of a greater whole. We are all enriched and changed as a result.
This BTW is why I asked not long ago via FB "what do we (white dominant culture Episcopalians) bring to the table as part of our culture?" Those responses were very slow in coming forth, I think in part because we do not often think of ourselves as possessing a distinct culture or cultures. If we think of it at all, we assume that we ARE "the culture", and do not look on ourselves with an eye to naming what is distinct about us. As white-ethnic peoples continue demographically to become a minority in this nation (by 2050 fully 1/3 of all people in the USA are predicted to be of Latino descent given present trends), it behooves us to do so.
Fleshing out this conversation, Suarez spoke of...
5 Values of Latino culture
1) Family: loyalty and interdependence
2) Personalism: the personal quality of each interaction
3) Respect: proper regard for figures of authority
4) Machismo: masculinity and virility, understanding that the man is the provider, responsible for the well-being and honor of the family
5) Marianism: the values of the Blessed Virgin, that women are spiritual over other people and that Mary is spiritual above all others, that Mary is especially able to help those who are poor and suffering and that women in general are given this gift and charge as well
The above was presented not as "good or bad." It is easy to see that several of the values above have distinct shadow-sides or destructive aspects, particularly the culture of machismo. Culture just is.
By contrast, Suarez named these as five features of dominant American culture:
1) Individualism, emphasizing competition over cooperation
2) Equality: that all have the same rights or should
3) Time, as in organizing its use and keeping to time, for after all "time is money"
4) Directness and assertiveness
5) Materialism and consumerism
Again, culture--not necessarily good or bad. Culture just is.
My notes got somewhat broken at this point, partly because what Suarez said led me down path after path of my own, partly because I kept discovering the limitations of my Spanish especially when presented by an erudite native speaker! I was also stubborn about refusing the translation earphones.
But Suarez spoke of the challenge of transcultural assumptions--distrust and prejudice, of cultural values clashing and competing for dominance, and my addition is that cultural values under stress and pressure can manifest in destructive ways.
Suarez proposed "Cultural Competency" as a value to be striven for, a necessary feature of contemporary communities (a necessary feature for us at SPP I may add, and in this Diocese). Cultural competency presumes awareness, sensitivity, and eventual competence. Cultural competence means toleration at the most basic level, acceptance, and finally celebration of distinctiveness and the gifts that each bring to the community.
The risks of this process include:
1) Inadequate inculturation (there is a "loser" on some level)
2) Negative cultural values go into ascendency
3) The new culture/community assumes and remains in a lower socio-economic level
4) Prejudice and discrimination
5) Migrant status (one is always a stranger, and retains "stranger habits" for generations
As I recall, Suarez used a kind of "Johari Window" chart of various models of inculturation, ranging from loss of one's home culture and assumption of the new, loss of one's own culture and no assumption or participation in the new (this result is a complete kind of tragic alienation), retention of one's home culture but little if any participation or assumption of the new culture, or inculturation, retention of and celebration of one's home culture and full participation/competence in the new culture, bringing one's home culture as a gift.
Suarez spoke of five strengths of Latino peoples...
1) A strong religious sense and strong sense of family connection
2) High valuing of children
3) High value of literacy, especially in ensuring the education of the children
4) Economic opportunities for Latino people are increasing
5) Most Latinos look on the USA as an opportunity to work and to improve their lives
And Suarez spoke of these qualities of what he called "Leaders in Process":
1) The "Prime Directive", adopting a position of sensitivity
2) To have a genuine curiosity about one another
3) Contrasting the glass half-empty/glass half-full (a real good one in many ways for us at SPP!)What do we have here already, in terms of connections and contributions, local leaders. In all cases, the answer to the question is PEOPLE.
In any case, our tasks as a becoming-church culturally are...
1) To nurture a genuinely curious stance toward culture (including our own I may add)
2) To understand diversity and to negotiate language barriers
3) To have understanding and sensitivity, and to make room in all conversations regarding assumptions of culture and identity
4) And above all, to celebrate! Celebrate difference, and to celebrate the process!
Incredible amount of substance for us, and incredible amount of resonance with our experience even thus far.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
One cross
Holy Cross 2014
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearABC_RCL/HolyDays/HolyCros_RCL.html
What does the cross of Christ mean?
A story from years ago that disquieted religious folk was of the patient in the Catholic hospital who asked the nurse to take down the crucifix that faced him on the wall at the foot of his bed, a familiar sight to this day in hospitals like Providence. “I am in pain” said the man. “What possible good does it do me to be forced to look at the image of a suffering man?”
I appreciate this man because he was seeing the cross clearly and was impacted by what is depicted. For him the image of Christ crucified was not just part of the background of a religious institution, whether hospital or church.
Today, the feast of the Holy Cross, the cross is not just part of the background. Even if the cross has become an ignored accessory, or a rejected image by those appalled by the pain depicted, the cross is still inescapable.
Wherever pain and division and violence and loss are found, there we find the cross.
In the past 20 years roadside shrines at the sites of accidental death or even murder have become common in the USA. Often a cross is part of the shrine. “Yes this” says the cross, yes, tragic and hideous loss. “Yes this, but also this.” A dialogue of realities—loss and pain, yet a stubborn and irrational hope at one and the same time. The bridge between loss and hope is the cross.
This + is a crucifix given to me by a charming Filipina nun as I entered the novitiate of my old religious Order. We were twice besieged by government-sponsored paramilitary in the village where we lived for a year. I was sitting meditating and looking at this cross one night when a burst of automatic rifle fire went off only yards away from our residence. I still feel the fear of that as I tell the story and hold this crucifix. “Yes this, but also this.”
The cross, the crucified yet risen Christ, is found at the center of all our suffering and the suffering of the world. The cross is found particularly at the nexus of suffering and pain dealt out by the oppressive powers of the world, dealt out to the poor and the pushed aside. The cross is emptied of its power if we forget that on the cross is stretched out a man executed by the powerful, executed because he was a threat to organized political and military and yes, religious power. The cross faces us with the reality that to this day people, whole peoples, are still beaten up and ordered around and imprisoned and pushed aside and even executed by the powerful and the threatened. The cross is both uncomfortable truth and proclamation of the overthrow of the powerful and the abusive, of God’s stand with the poor. “Yes this, but also this.”
We here live the cross in a particular way. Last week Padre Maldonado spoke with me about our project to make one community from two very different peoples, different cultures and language groups. One of those groups experience discrimination and exclusion on a daily basis. He said in admiration “You’ve really bet the farm!”
Well, we have. But we’ve done that because Jesus of Nazareth bet the farm, bet with his life. He bet that God would be victorious in the face of the worst that the Roman Empire and the Temple elite could do. He bet that death would not have the last word.
We here bet that, in the midst of challenges and difference, in the face of the deep divisions between people and languages and cultures, that we find the cross of Christ. “I shall draw all people to myself.” “Yes this, but also this”: a people healed and made one, an improbable community that practices justice and equality before God.
Anyone here have dandelions in their yards? Each year when I harvest the dandelions one more time, I speculate again that they are not individual plants, but all part of one whole. In the same way, the cross on our foreheads through Baptism is not our personal cross. It is one cross, one plant, blossoming in different places and different lives, drawing all, plunging to the depth of human division and human pain, embracing all and yet making hope.
“Yes this, but also this.”
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearABC_RCL/HolyDays/HolyCros_RCL.html
What does the cross of Christ mean?
A story from years ago that disquieted religious folk was of the patient in the Catholic hospital who asked the nurse to take down the crucifix that faced him on the wall at the foot of his bed, a familiar sight to this day in hospitals like Providence. “I am in pain” said the man. “What possible good does it do me to be forced to look at the image of a suffering man?”
I appreciate this man because he was seeing the cross clearly and was impacted by what is depicted. For him the image of Christ crucified was not just part of the background of a religious institution, whether hospital or church.
Today, the feast of the Holy Cross, the cross is not just part of the background. Even if the cross has become an ignored accessory, or a rejected image by those appalled by the pain depicted, the cross is still inescapable.
Wherever pain and division and violence and loss are found, there we find the cross.
In the past 20 years roadside shrines at the sites of accidental death or even murder have become common in the USA. Often a cross is part of the shrine. “Yes this” says the cross, yes, tragic and hideous loss. “Yes this, but also this.” A dialogue of realities—loss and pain, yet a stubborn and irrational hope at one and the same time. The bridge between loss and hope is the cross.
This + is a crucifix given to me by a charming Filipina nun as I entered the novitiate of my old religious Order. We were twice besieged by government-sponsored paramilitary in the village where we lived for a year. I was sitting meditating and looking at this cross one night when a burst of automatic rifle fire went off only yards away from our residence. I still feel the fear of that as I tell the story and hold this crucifix. “Yes this, but also this.”
The cross, the crucified yet risen Christ, is found at the center of all our suffering and the suffering of the world. The cross is found particularly at the nexus of suffering and pain dealt out by the oppressive powers of the world, dealt out to the poor and the pushed aside. The cross is emptied of its power if we forget that on the cross is stretched out a man executed by the powerful, executed because he was a threat to organized political and military and yes, religious power. The cross faces us with the reality that to this day people, whole peoples, are still beaten up and ordered around and imprisoned and pushed aside and even executed by the powerful and the threatened. The cross is both uncomfortable truth and proclamation of the overthrow of the powerful and the abusive, of God’s stand with the poor. “Yes this, but also this.”
We here live the cross in a particular way. Last week Padre Maldonado spoke with me about our project to make one community from two very different peoples, different cultures and language groups. One of those groups experience discrimination and exclusion on a daily basis. He said in admiration “You’ve really bet the farm!”
Well, we have. But we’ve done that because Jesus of Nazareth bet the farm, bet with his life. He bet that God would be victorious in the face of the worst that the Roman Empire and the Temple elite could do. He bet that death would not have the last word.
We here bet that, in the midst of challenges and difference, in the face of the deep divisions between people and languages and cultures, that we find the cross of Christ. “I shall draw all people to myself.” “Yes this, but also this”: a people healed and made one, an improbable community that practices justice and equality before God.
Anyone here have dandelions in their yards? Each year when I harvest the dandelions one more time, I speculate again that they are not individual plants, but all part of one whole. In the same way, the cross on our foreheads through Baptism is not our personal cross. It is one cross, one plant, blossoming in different places and different lives, drawing all, plunging to the depth of human division and human pain, embracing all and yet making hope.
“Yes this, but also this.”
Saturday, September 13, 2014
"My life and death is with my neighbor/Mi vida y mi muerte es con mi vecino"
September 7, 2014
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp18_RCL.html
The most famous ancient hermit is Saint Antony the Great. El hermitano mas famoso es San Antonio el Major. Although he lived in solitude, he once said this: Aunque vivia en solitudo, el dijo este:
“Our life and our death is with our neighbor. Nuestra vida y nuestra muerte es con nuestro vecino.
“If we gain our neighbor, we have gained God. Si ganamos nuestro vecino, ganamos el Dios. “If we scandalize our neighbor, we have sinned against Christ. Si se scandalizamos nuesto vecino, hemos pecado contra Cristo.”
As we begin this Fall season, we gather as one community to learn this again. And we give thanks that we live with one another, that our life and our death is with our neighbor. Mientras empezamos este Otono, reunimos como un comunidad para aprenderlo otro vez. Y damos gracias porque vivimos uno con el otro en este parrochia, que nuestra vida y nuestra muerte es con nuestro vecino.
We are not “saved” alone. No estamos salvado solo. Much of North American religion, especially Christianity, is about me and God. Mucha religion en Norte America cuenta de salvacion individual, es acerca de mi y Dios.
But the Gospel is about life together. Pero el evangelio es acerca de vida en comun.
In the prophet we hear that we are responsible for one another, in good time or in bad. En el profeta aprendemos que somos responsible uno por el otro, en tiempos Buenos y en tiempos dificil.
We will fall, we will sin. We will fall short of God’s expectations. We will disappoint one another. Nos caeremos, nos vamos a pecar. Nos quedaremos cortos de las expectativas de Dios. Vamos a decepcionar a los otros.
We will do this together. Haremos esto juntos.
And we will stand up again when we fall. We will help one another to stand. Y estaremos juntos cuando nos caemos. Vamos a ayudarnos unos a otros de estar en pie.
This is our life: we fall down, and we stand up again. Esta es nuestra vida: nos caemos y nos levantamos de nuevo.
We cannot promise that we will never fall down, that we will never hurt one another. No podemos prometer que nunca vamos a caer, que nunca nos haremos daño unos a otros.
We can ask God’s help to stand up again. We can help one another to stand. Podemos pedir la ayuda de Dios para levantarse de nuevo. Podemos ayudarnos unos a otros a ponerse de pie.
Because God promises that we can stand, that we can live a life filled with light. Porque el Dios nos promete que podemos parar de pie, que podemos vivir una vida lleno de luz.
Jesus shows us this way of life. El Sneor Jesus nos muestra este forma de vida.
Jesus tells us how hard we should work through our problems together. Jesús nos dice lo duro que debemos trabajar a través de nuestros problemas juntos.
Because the life of one is the life of all. Debido a que la vida de uno es la vida de todos. If one of us suffers, we all suffer. Si uno de nosotros sufre, todos sufrimos. If one falls away, we all fall. Si uno cae lejos, todos cameos.
Because, as Saint Antony says, “Our life and our death is with our neighbor.” Porque, como dice San Antonio, “Nuestra vida y nuestra muerte es con nuestro vecino.”
http://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_RCL/Pentecost/AProp18_RCL.html
The most famous ancient hermit is Saint Antony the Great. El hermitano mas famoso es San Antonio el Major. Although he lived in solitude, he once said this: Aunque vivia en solitudo, el dijo este:
“Our life and our death is with our neighbor. Nuestra vida y nuestra muerte es con nuestro vecino.
“If we gain our neighbor, we have gained God. Si ganamos nuestro vecino, ganamos el Dios. “If we scandalize our neighbor, we have sinned against Christ. Si se scandalizamos nuesto vecino, hemos pecado contra Cristo.”
As we begin this Fall season, we gather as one community to learn this again. And we give thanks that we live with one another, that our life and our death is with our neighbor. Mientras empezamos este Otono, reunimos como un comunidad para aprenderlo otro vez. Y damos gracias porque vivimos uno con el otro en este parrochia, que nuestra vida y nuestra muerte es con nuestro vecino.
We are not “saved” alone. No estamos salvado solo. Much of North American religion, especially Christianity, is about me and God. Mucha religion en Norte America cuenta de salvacion individual, es acerca de mi y Dios.
But the Gospel is about life together. Pero el evangelio es acerca de vida en comun.
In the prophet we hear that we are responsible for one another, in good time or in bad. En el profeta aprendemos que somos responsible uno por el otro, en tiempos Buenos y en tiempos dificil.
We will fall, we will sin. We will fall short of God’s expectations. We will disappoint one another. Nos caeremos, nos vamos a pecar. Nos quedaremos cortos de las expectativas de Dios. Vamos a decepcionar a los otros.
We will do this together. Haremos esto juntos.
And we will stand up again when we fall. We will help one another to stand. Y estaremos juntos cuando nos caemos. Vamos a ayudarnos unos a otros de estar en pie.
This is our life: we fall down, and we stand up again. Esta es nuestra vida: nos caemos y nos levantamos de nuevo.
We cannot promise that we will never fall down, that we will never hurt one another. No podemos prometer que nunca vamos a caer, que nunca nos haremos daño unos a otros.
We can ask God’s help to stand up again. We can help one another to stand. Podemos pedir la ayuda de Dios para levantarse de nuevo. Podemos ayudarnos unos a otros a ponerse de pie.
Because God promises that we can stand, that we can live a life filled with light. Porque el Dios nos promete que podemos parar de pie, que podemos vivir una vida lleno de luz.
Jesus shows us this way of life. El Sneor Jesus nos muestra este forma de vida.
Jesus tells us how hard we should work through our problems together. Jesús nos dice lo duro que debemos trabajar a través de nuestros problemas juntos.
Because the life of one is the life of all. Debido a que la vida de uno es la vida de todos. If one of us suffers, we all suffer. Si uno de nosotros sufre, todos sufrimos. If one falls away, we all fall. Si uno cae lejos, todos cameos.
Because, as Saint Antony says, “Our life and our death is with our neighbor.” Porque, como dice San Antonio, “Nuestra vida y nuestra muerte es con nuestro vecino.”
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