Of The Baptismal Covenant

I have often said that we Episcopalians do not believe our own prayer book. In response to the question “Who are the ministers of the Church?” our Catechism says, “The ministers of the Church are lay persons, bishops, priests, and deacons.” Note that the laity is listed first. Yet for all our proclaiming of “the ministry of all the baptized,” we don’t believe lay people do ministry, and we defer much of the ministry of the church to our bishops, priests and deacons. More than that, we seem to be abdicating more and more of our responsibility for the administration of our church to the ordained. I believe we can see this in the current struggles and our willingness to grant the Primates of the Anglican Communion so much power over the future direction of the Episcopal Church.

And, except for Bonnie Anderson, the president of our House of Deputies, our lay leadership seems remarkably silent when it comes to responding to the Primates’ Communiqué of February 19, 2007. Bishops on both sides of the issue, and from the “center,” continue issuing statements daily, and we await each one with eagerness. And our elected leader Katharine also seems willing to allow the Primates Gathered to be authoritative for the Episcopal Church—or at least have a sizeable say over the future direction of our church. She continues to ask, repeatedly, that we look at this time as a time of pause—to step back from the movement toward full and equal participation in the Episcopal Church for its lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender members. To many of us this seems to be a case of “justice delayed is justice denied.” For others, it does not go far enough.

Do we believe our Baptismal Covenant as it appears in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer, or not?

Celebrant Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of the bread, and in the prayers?
People I will, with God’s help.

It is clear that a significant number of us do not intend to do this. They refuse to come to the table and participate in the breaking of the bread with those who do not agree with them. There are congregations that refuse to allow their bishops to visit them, and there are bishops who refuse to visit congregations.

Celebrant Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever
you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?
People I will, with God’s help.

So while the Primate of Nigeria vocally and visibly supports a bill in the Nigerian legislature that will outlaw even the right to gather and discuss lesbian and gay issues—and I feel relatively certain that bisexuality and transgender issues are not even a blip on the radar screen for the good Archbishop--the Primates consistently demand that the Episcopal Church comply with certain parts of their Lambeth Resolutions, the Windsor Report, and their Dromantine Communiqué but refuse to demand compliance to the rest of those documents by their own members.

Celebrant Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?
People I will, with God’s help.

Good News? You mean there is Good News for us gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people? It is hard to hear the Good News when we are essentially being told to go back into our closets and let the rest of the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion talk about us and make decisions about our lives without speaking with and listening to us.

Celebrant Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?
People I will, with God’s help.

The last time I looked, “all persons” included lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people. But maybe we can only be loved when we are second-class members of the church.

Celebrant Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?
People I will, with God’s help.

Apparently not, since we are being asked to step back from this striving. Quite frankly, if the reactionary factions of the Primates gathered succeed in banning lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people from consecration as bishops, then they will then seek to have us banned from ordination as priests and deacons. And once they succeed in that, can ordained women be far from their sights?

If we do not truly believe our Baptismal Covenant, which we all say together whenever a new person is brought into our community through the rite of Baptism, then we should take it out of the Prayer Book and replace it with “The Ministration of Holy Baptism” from the 1928 Prayer Book. Or why not return to ”The Ministration of Publick Baptism of Infants” in the 1662 Prayer Book? That is the version of the Prayer Book highlighted in the current proposed Anglican Covenant.

What part of ALL do we not understand?

Peace,
Jeffri

Of Pain and Reflection

The last few days have been painful. Anger, frustration, sadness, and much more fill the posts on my Episcopal/Anglican related email lists and blogs I read regularly. When Katharine spoke to the staff at the Episcopal Church Center last Friday, she said a couple of times in reference to the ultimatum from the primates, “We don’t need to decide now.”

Pause...

Time…

Reflect...

Reflection can be dangerous. It can lead to new, unexpected and scary places. Like thoughts of leaving the Episcopal Church. No matter what happens over the next seven months and at the September House of Bishops meeting, people will leave the Episcopal Church. Many have already left. More are leaving now. Some have left not only the church behind, but their Christian faith as well.

The song running through my head for most of today has been “Anatevka” from Fiddler on the Roof. If the House of Bishops submits to the primates’ ultimatum, and the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender members of the Episcopal Church are again asked to be the price of unity in the Anglican Communion, then perhaps that will be our equivalent of “the edict from the Tsar.” And many of us will leave. We’ll have to wait for justice (while fighting for it) someplace else.

Will I leave?

I don’t know.

I don’t have to decide today…

Peace,
Jeffri

Of Lambdas, Triangles, And Visibility

I often wear a small gold Lambda earring in my left ear. Most people do not really notice it, or if they do, they do not comment on it. The most recent time anyone asked about it was during General Convention last June. The first incident occurred one late afternoon when I stopped at the Claiming the Blessing booth in the Exhibit Hall to see what they had to offer in terms of literature and, more importantly, to get a bag of the popcorn I had been smelling throughout most of the day at the booth I was staffing just up the way. The young woman volunteering at the booth asked what the significance of of my earring was.

I was a little taken aback. Here I was at the booth of an organization advocating for the blessing of same gender relationships by the Episcopal Church, and the volunteer was asking me about what I thought was a fairly well-known symbol of the lesbian/gay rights movement. So I gave a short impromptu lesson on the history of the early lesbian/gay rights movement and how the Lambda was adopted as a symbol by the Gay Activists Alliance in the early 1970's.

The next day, I had a similar conversation when I stopped by the Thoughtful Christian booth. That incident was less startling to me, because I had no assumptions that the folks staffing the booth should know what the Lambda was.

Earlier this week, eight months later, in the aftermath of the Primates Communique, I found myself thinking that I needed to be more visible as a gay man in the Episcopal Church--the little gold Lambda was not enough. Now, I am not closeted by any means, but it is not a topic of everyday conversation either at the Church Center or at my local parish. However, if the church is going to once again ask its lesbian, gay and bisexual members to bear the burden of the cost of preventing immediate schism in the Anglican Communion, then the church needs to put names and faces to those members--to ME. I dug into the back of my closet (clothes closet, people!) and found the hooded cotton vest that holds my collection of lesbian and gay buttons. I have a number of buttons that contain or are in the shape of a pink triangle. However, I knew exactly which button I wanted--an enamelled black circle with a large pink triangle on it.

I used to wear that button frequently when I was involved in the Connecticut Coalition for Lesbian and Gay Civil Rights. Then, as now, it was a personal way to be visible. I have worn it for four days now, and I plan to continue wearing it while the Episcopal Church struggles with itself and the Anglican Communion. I know people have seen it, but only one young co-worker asked its significance. So I gave him a short impromptu history lesson on the origins of the pink triangle as an identifying marking on the uniforms of homosexual men in the Nazi concentration camps and its subsequent adoption by various lesbian and gay rights organizations and communities. I did not have to tell him why I was wearing it, because he came up with that answer on his own.

As much as I wear it to educate others, it also educates me in just how uncomfortable and vulnerable being intentionally visible can still make me feel.

Peace,
Jeffri

Prayer Break

One of the nice things about working at the Church Center is the number of opportunities for worship throughout the week. We can participate in Morning Prayer at 8:45 a.m. and in the Eucharist at 12:10 p.m. I do not always go, but it is nice that the opportunity is there.

Today I felt the need to attend Eucharist, so I went downstairs to the chapel at noontime. Given the events of the past week, quiet contemplation was not easy. During the time before the service and also just after receiving communion, it was all I could do to sit and breathe.

Breathe in: "Be at peace."

Breathe out: "Be with God."

Breathe in: "Be at peace."

Breathe out: "Be with God."

Over and over again. At least it provided me with enough calm and centering to get through the rest of the day at work.

I also keep a small set of wooden Anglican Prayer Beads with me almost all the time. Often they serve as worry beads, but I do use them for prayer regularly. In fact, they are so well used that I restring them regularly. And now that it is Lent, I find myself returning to a set of prayers for the beads that are a combination of the Trisagion ("Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, Have mercy upon us.") and the Jesus Prayer ("Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."). I do not remember where I found it originally, and I have a feeling that I have changed it here and there as I have prayed it over the years. Here it is:

On the Cross: In the Name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

On the Invitatory Bead: Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.

On the Cruciform Beads: Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One, Have mercy upon me (us).

On the First Set of Week Beads: Jesus Lamb of God, have mercy on me a sinner.

On the Second Set of Week Beads: Jesus Lamb of God, have mercy on your people.

On the Third Set of Week Beads: Jesus Lamb of God, I give you thanks and praise.

On the Fourth Set of Week Beads: Jesus Lamb of God, I offer you myself.

On the Invitatory Bead in Closing: The Lord’s Prayer

On the Cross in Closing: Thanks be to God. Amen.

If you want to know more, here is a web page that gives a good overview of Anglican Prayer Beads/Rosaries.

Peace,
Jeffri

Caught by the Light: A Personal Manifesto

Richard has another good piece on his blog Caught by the Light: A Personal Manifesto . It caused some interesting discussion on one of my mail lists, but I think it is worth reading and thinking about.

Peace,
Jeffri

Maybe This Is Why I Have Trouble with Lent?

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Take minute to go check out Dave's stuff.

Peace,
Jeffri

When Wilt Thou Save The People?

Since shortly after my first reading of the Primates Communique Monday evening, "Save the People" from Godspell has been running through my head. The words were written by Ebenezer Elliott in 1850, and appeared with the tune Kendal in The Hymnal 1940 (#496) of the Episcopal Church. A snippet of the Steven Scwhartz tune sung by Stephen Nathan on the 1971 cast recording can be heard by going here, paging down to the "Listen to Samples" section, and clicking on the "Listen" link for whichever media player you have.

And here are the words...the plea...

When wilt thou save the people?
Oh God of mercy, when?
Not kings and lords, but nations,
Not thrones and crowns, but men!
Flow'rs of thy heart, o God, are they;
Let them not pass, like weeds, away,
Their heritage a sunless day.
God save the people.

Shall crime bring crime forever,
Strength aiding still the strong?
Is it thy will, o Father,
That men shall toil for wrong?
"No", say thy mountains;
"No", say thy skies;
Man's clouded sun shall brightly rise,
And songs be heard instead of sighs.
God save the people.

When wilt thou save the people?
Oh God of mercy when?
The people, Lord, the people,
Not thrones and crowns, but men!
God save the people,
for thine they are,
Thy children as thy angels fair.
God save the people from despair.
God save the people.
Oh God save the people!
God save the people!
Oh God save the people!
God save the people.
Oh God save the people!
God save the people!
Oh God save the people!

When wilt thou save the people?
O God of mercy when?
The people, Lord, the people,
Not thrones and crowns, but men!
God save the people, save us,
For thine they are, for thine they are.
Thy children as thy angels fair:
O, God save the people,
Save the people,
God save the people,
From despair.
God save the people!

God save the people,
O, God save the people,
God save the people,
O, God save the people,
God save the people,
God save the people,
God save the people.

Katharine Speaks to The Church

Our Presiding Bishop has issued her first public statement regarding the results of the Primates Meeting in Dar es Salaam. Go and read it here.

My initial reaction is that, once again, lesbian and gay Episcopalians--along with lesbian and gay Anglicans across the Communion--are being asked to pay the price to maintain the Anglican Communion.

My emailbox and the Anglican blogosphere continue to be filled with reactions, commentary and outright raw pain. Katharine's words have not eased my fears for and deep sadness about the Epsicopal Church, or my place in it.

I have little else to say at this point.

Peace,
Jeffri

Spinning, Spinning, Spinning.....

I spent the afternoon and evening with friends, glad to be away from the temptation of the computer and the Anglican blogosphere. As expected, I returned to the Primates Communique, 100+ emails with reactions from my various listservs, and the Anglican blogosphere teeming with first-reading commentary and cursory analyses.

After my first reading of the Communique, I feel like I've been kicked in the gut--much as I did at General Convention 2006 when the House of Deputies passed B033. The long term consequences of this statement, and of the proposed Covenant, cannot be predicted at this point in time. But for tonight I am deeply grieved.

If you want to read some of the reactions in the blogosphere, check out the following:

Elizabeth Kaeton's Telling Secrets
Susan Russell's An Inch at A Time (which includes the Integrity Press Release)
Stand Firm
Ruth Gledhill's Articles of Faith
epiScope
Inclusive Church Blog
David Virtue's VirtueOnline

Some of it comes from the spinmeisters, but much of it is from our spinning emotions...

Peace,
Jeffri

Let The Spin Begin!

This morning the Anglican blogosphere and the world press waited with bated breath for the first concrete news to come from the Primates Meeting in Dar es Salaam. After days of filing reports on vague press briefings, writing stories about each other, and speculating on the actions of some of the primates and visitors, today they would finally have something to report--only to be told that the primates postponed the final press conference. So they all sat and waited. The commentary on the delay was remarkably restrained.

Until Ruth Gledhill's story "Churches back plan to unite under Pope" appeared on the front page of The Times (England). While that caused a bit of a stir for a while, it was quickly pointed out by the co-chairs of the International Anglican - Roman Catholic Commission for Unity and Mission (IARCCUM) that the document in question had been given to the Anglican Primates as part of a continuing discussion that has been going on for a number of years. Their statement can be found here on the Anglican Communion News Service (ACNS) web site. Then Ms. Gledhill, Religion correspondent for The Times, posted "Schori triumphs in Dar as new Anglican queen" on her blog. That discussion kept things going for a little while until people started noticing that the Report of the Covenant Design Group was online, released by ACNS.

Once that hit the radar screens, the conservative blog sites went nuts within the first hour. Initial comments on the proposed covenant were overwhelmingly negative (check out the Stand Firm in Faith posting of the Report to sample the comments). There were few if any comments to be seen on liberal or moderate blog sites. Most of us continue to wait for the primates' final statement, which as of early this afternoon Eastern Time (United States), they seem to still be drafting.

THAT is when life in the Anglican blogosphere should get very interesting.

And now back to my regularly scheduled day off--getting the last load of laundry out of the dryer, folding and putting clothes away, going grocery shopping, and preparing for tomorrow evening's Education for Ministry (EfM) seminar, which I co-mentor.

Peace,
Jeffri

Tell Me A Story

Last Sunday after Epiphany, February 26, 2006
Year B: 1 Kings 19:9-18, Mark 9:2-9
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Fairfield, CT

Tell Me A Story
by Jeffri Harre

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

“Tell me a story about your baptism.” I was eating lunch with my boss a couple of weeks after starting my job at the Episcopal Church Center. I paused and said, “I don’t really have one, I mean I don’t remember my baptism, and there aren’t any family stories about it.” She didn’t say a word but went on eating her fruit salad, so I started talking.

I was baptized in the basement of the Episcopal church my parents attended because the parish was in the midst of a building program. I suppose it would have been a private ceremony, like most baptisms were then. My parents left the church a couple of years later, and my brother and I grew up unchurched. I found my way back to church during college and joined the Congregational Church. A number of years later, I returned to the Episcopal Church and had to be confirmed by the bishop. I dug out my baptismal certificate for the Rector and was floored to find that my confirmation was scheduled almost 30 years to the day of my baptism.

She smiled at me and said, “See, you do have a story.”

A few weeks later, again at lunch, Robyn looked at me across the table. “Tell me a story about an encounter you’ve had with God.”

“Ummmmm….well….” I mumbled before lapsing into silence. She continued to eat, saying nothing. I did have a story. I just didn’t feel very comfortable talking about it. After all, as the old joke asks, “Why is it that when we talk to God we’re praying, but when God talks to us we’re schizophrenic?” In our society, even in most of our churches, we just aren’t comfortable talking about our own experiences with God. We are children of the scientific age, and it’s easy to dismiss such stories as bits of fantasy or as some kind of mental aberration. We want to be able to test, measure, and study something before we accept it. We want logic. We want things to make sense to our rational minds.

Yet our scriptures are full of stories about burning bushes, pillars of fire, visits from angels, voices from the heavens. The Season of Epiphany begins and ends with two such stories—Jesus’ baptism on the First Sunday, and the Transfiguration, which we read today. In both stories we are told that God spoke, “This is my son, the beloved…” For Peter, James and John, the experience was more than just hearing God speak, they SAW things—Jesus shining, his robe whiter than anyone on earth could whiten it, Moses and Elijah appearing to talk with Jesus. Now how do you go back down the mountain and talk about that? Maybe Jesus had the right idea, “Tell no one…”

The other story we are told in today’s readings is just as dramatic. Elijah is instructed to go up on the mountain and wait for God. First comes the great wind, followed by an earthquake and then the fire. Yet, God is not in any of those things we are told. It is only when sheer silence descends on the mountain that Elijah covers his face and goes to the mouth of the cave to listen to God. And how do you go back down the mountain and talk about that experience?

Yet, Christians have been telling stories about experiences with God from the very beginning. It’s how we engage the Gospel. It’s how we share those stories of the Good News. And that Good News doesn’t stop with the Gospels. If Christ is truly present in our lives, then we will have our own stories to share. And it isn’t always easy. Sometimes it’s downright dangerous, as we know from the stories of the early Christian Martyrs. Even after Christianity became “the norm” in Western Europe, it could be dangerous. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake because she dared not only to share her story but to act on it. It is still risky today. It means opening ourselves up to others and being vulnerable.

Part of our work in the Office of Children’s Ministries and Christian Education is to help people, especially children, share in the Good News, including the telling of it. We want people to know that their stories are part of The Story, and that sharing those stories is part of how we share the Gospel. We do this, in part, by teaching people how to create safe spaces for themselves and others to tell their stories, and we emphasize that listening is as important as telling. Part of creating that safe space is to start with “safer” stories, or by answering a series of questions over time that start us thinking about what it means to be part of that story. When I started working for the office, we were in the middle of preparing a video tape of people’s stories to be shared at an upcoming conference. The questions we asked people were:

Do you believe in God?
How did you first learn about God?
How do you tell others about God?
Why do you think people go to church?

Another set of questions you might think about is:

Who am I?
Who are my people?
Who or what is God calling me to be or do?

Or simply ask them to tell a story about their baptism. It’s a story we all share. It is, after all, how we are brought into the Christian community.

What Robyn did those first few weeks I was on the job was to create that safe space for us, where we could share our stories with each other. So, here is the story I was eventually able to share with her.

It happened when I was in graduate school in Madison, Wisconsin. It was one of those perfect Fall days. There are days even now when the sky is just the right shade of blue, or the smell of the leaves will take me back to that day. I was standing at a corner waiting for the light to change so I could cross the street. Suddenly—or at least it seemed very sudden—everything seemed to be sharper, brighter. Even now the logical part of me wants to try and explain the sensation away as a cloud moving away from the sun, or a shift in the way I was standing so that I was no longer in the shadow of a building. But I don’t think it can be explained away that easily. Then along with that sharpness, that brightness, I became aware of a message—it wasn’t exactly words that I heard aloud or in my head. It said, “I need you. You have a ministry in my church.” And then just as suddenly, it was just another Fall afternoon on a Madison street corner. Now, how do I go back down the mountain and talk about that experience?

Over twenty years later I am still struggling with the implications of that experience, and what it means to minister in God’s church and in the world. I have come back down the mountain and shared the story, sometimes with ease and sometimes with unease. I have been blessed by many people over the years who listened to my story and told me theirs. Together we are finding the many ways to live out God’s call to us.

So, tell me a story…

==============================================
Yes, I know it's from last year, but I think it is as relevant now as it was then. It also fits with the storytelling theme of my blog, which I didn't have last year.

Peace,
Jeffri

Tanzania? Spanzania! Schism? Schmism!

My friend Elizabeth Kaeton has posted a story called "Bald Boogie" on her blog Telling Secrets (there's a link to the blog in my Links section). This story is infintitely more important than the "stuff" happening--or not happening--at the primates meeting in Tanzania. It tells about lives lived and shared. Thank you, Barbara and Elizabeth, for sharing your humor, sense, and lives with us.

Peace,
Jeffri

"For I was hungry..."

Travelling to Dar es Salaam is expensive. Although I could find tickets for about $1,000, most were in the $5,000-$7,000 range. But let us assume that everyone attending the gathering of the Anglican Primates was a good steward and thus found a good fare and booked early. Even so, average transportation costs to Dar es Salaam would be approximately $2,000 per person (and that is probably a very low estimate). That adds up to $76,000 in transportation costs for the 38 primates.

Rooms at the White Sands Motel and Resort in Dar es Salaam average $130 per night. Most of the primates will have spent seven nights at the meeting, which adds up to $910 per room. Multiplied by 38 primates, lodging costs for the meeing will be approximately $34,600.

For the sake of simplicity, let us assume that each primate will accumulate $300 worth of incidental expenses during the course of the meeting (also probably a low estimate). Thirty-eight times $300 comes to $11,400.

To gather these 37 men and one woman for their meeting in Dar es Salaam is costing about $122,000. This does not include the number official guests, spouses, staff, the cost of security, or the members of the press who travelled to Dar es Salaam for the meeting.

Looking at the Episcopal Relief and Development Gifts for Life online catalog, here is what it would cost to make some very basic improvements for a village of 50 families:

Mosquito Bed Netting for All - $375
Clean Water and Basic Sanitation - $7,500
One Goat for Each Family - $4,000
Set of Tools for Each Family - $9,000
20 Trays of Seedlings for Each Family - $20,000
One Flock of Chickens for Each Family - $6,750
Total for Village - $47,625

Enough said.

Peace,
Jeffri

He Said It Better Than I could

Richard, in his blog Caught by the Light, writes:

Again, I will not argue prejudicial treatment has not occurred against conservatives and evangelicals in The Episcopal Church. Nor do I sanction it. But let's be clear: they still, by virtue of their beliefs and practices, have a leg up in the broader society, in the Anglican Communion, and in the world. They retain many privileges LGBT Christians still cannot have, even in some of the most liberal dioceses of The Episcopal Church.

For this reason, cries of generalized oppression here ring a little hollow to me, particularly as applied to over a quarter of the membership in this Province, and lend little of substance to the conversation. Meanwhile, LGBT people around the world are dying every day and being turned away from Christian community simply because of who they are.

Read the whole post here.

Peace,
Jeffri

Meanwhile, Back in The Real World…

The Primates of the Anglican Communion, and what seems like most of the world press, have gathered in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. The spin meisters—especially the conservatives at this stage (my informal, unscientific survey shows that "conservative" reports outnumber "moderate" and "liberal" ones by at least 2 to 1)—release “news reports” nearly hourly , and the blogosphere abounds with opinions. Meanwhile, here in the greater New York City metropolitan area our biggest concern today has been getting to and from work safely—if we left the house at all.

Do not misunderstand me, I am interested in what happens in Dar es Salaam, but all the pre-meeting spin and clamoring is just silly. The Anglican Communion will fall apart, or it will stay together. The Episcopal Church will continue living with tensions. Some folks will leave the denomination, as they have during past controversies. And eventually, we will all learn that the church is NOT the Primates.

In the meantime, my attention has been on icy roads and sidewalks and whether or not the heat in my apartment building is going to stay on tonight. AIDS orphans in Tanzania need food, clothing and exercise books so they can attend school. Darfur descends into genocide. Car bombs explode in Jordan, Baghdad, and places about which we never hear. Our climate is going haywire.

Quite frankly, the Primates have better things to do than argue over sexuality, the role of women in the church, and who is in charge. And I have better things to do than read every scrap of spin that comes out of Dar es Salaam over the next few days.

Peace,
Jeffri

A Moment with Katharine

I stayed late at work yesterday because Katharine was doing a book signing in the Episcopal Church Center's soon-to-be-opened new bookstore. I took three copies of A Wing And A Prayer, her new book--one for me, one for my new boss who arrives on Monday, and one for Mom. I stood in line with a couple of my friends from work, and as we waited, it quickly became clear that Katharine was taking a moment to have a conversation with each person.

When I reached the table for my turn, I handed her each book in turn--each one with a yellow post-it on it so that I would remember which was whose. When I handed her Mom's and said it was for my mother, she smiled and asked if she should make it out the way I had it on the post-it, which, of course, said "Mom." No, I replied, her name is Barbara. She also remembered that my first name is not spelled in one of the usual ways and asked how it was spelled to make sure she wrote it correctly when she signed my copy.

As I left, I thanked her and wished her luck for next week. She smiled and said thank you--I did not need to add "at the Primates' meeting."

Katharine smiles a lot, and it is not one of those "this is my public smile that I've pasted on because I'm supposed to look happy" smiles. It is a genuine "I'm glad to see you" smile. And she listens. You feel that you have her complete attention while you are with her.

Later this evening, among the day's Episcopal News Service releases in my email in box, was the latest of Katharine's occasional short reflections. I have included it below, because I feel it is worth sharing.

Peace,
Jeffri

In this season: Christ in the stranger's guise
A reflection from the Presiding Bishop
Wednesday, February 07, 2007

[Episcopal News Service] Note to readers: With this posting, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori continues a series of occasional reflections for the people of the Episcopal Church. The reflections are also available on the Presiding Bishop's web pages at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/pb.

For the People of the Episcopal Church

As the primates of the Anglican Communion prepare to gather next week in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, I ask your prayers for all of us, and for our time together. I especially ask you to remember the mission that is our reason for being as the Anglican Communion--God's mission to heal this broken world. The primates gather for fellowship, study, and conversation at these meetings, begun less than thirty years ago. The ability to know each other and understand our various contexts is the foundation of shared mission. We cannot easily be partners with strangers.

That meeting ends just as Lent begins, and as we approach this season, I would suggest three particularly appropriate attitudes. Traditionally the season has been one in which candidates prepared for baptism through prayer, fasting, and acts of mercy. This year, we might all constructively pray for greater awareness and understanding of the strangers around us, particularly those strangers whom we are not yet ready or able to call friends. That awareness can only come with our own greater investment in discovering the image of God in those strangers. It will require an attitude of humility, recognizing that we can not possibly know the fullness of God if we are unable to recognize his hand at work in unlikely persons or contexts. We might constructively fast from a desire to make assumptions about the motives of those strangers not yet become friends. And finally, we might constructively focus our passions on those in whom Christ is most evident--the suffering, those on the margins, the forgotten, ignored, and overlooked of our world. And as we seek to serve that suffering servant made evident in our midst, we might reflect on what Jesus himself called us--friends (John 15:15).

Celtic Rune of Hospitality
I saw a stranger yesterday;
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place;
and in the sacred name of the Triune God
he blessed myself and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones,
and the lark said in her song:
Oft, Oft, Oft,
goes Christ in the stranger's guise.

Shalom,
Katharine

Some Commentary on Blogs

Over at the Stand Firm web site Greg Griffith posted a commentary on a short essay by Giles Fraser that appeared recently in The Church Times of England. He also noted Mark Harris’ analysis of Giles’ essay. What follows is my take on all of this, but I highly recommend that you go read Greg’s commentary in its entirety.

It seems that Giles was bemoaning the tone of many posts in the blogosphere:

In reality, intemperate bloggers are poisoning the wells of open debate, not enhancing it. Many of those outside the blogsphere are put off by the sheer unpleasantness of internet debate. So it is abandoned to people with thick skins and short tempers. And that is hardly the open forum that many bloggers claim they are protecting.

Mark basically agreed with Giles, but his overall conclusion was:

Giles Fraser has done us a service in publishing this article. We need to take it to heart. At the same time it is also interesting to note the number of occasions where bloggers have brought important questions to the attention of the wider church community and the newshounds of that community.

There is work to be done and we all have a part.

However, Greg really hit the nail on the head:

The blogosphere is predominantly an American medium. Go down the list of the 200 most highly-trafficked sites in the world, and it is dominated by Americans. Brits have always complained that Americans are scruffy, ill-mannered urchins, so it's hardly news to find that yet another Brit is dismayed at what he finds on blogs.

It is a mistake to assume that the "correct" role of the blogosphere is to mirror the kind of debate that's found elsewhere in society; and further, to assume that the kind of debate found elsewhere in society resembles some idyll of English drawing-room conversation (something that barely exists even in England anymore, so I'm told). Blogs belong to a medium that is different from the drawing room; different from the floor of parliament; different from coffee or tea in the parish hall; and different from radio and television.

Greg went on to say that blogs have opened up the flow of information in the church and across the Communion and prevent the “revisionists” from controlling “information the way they were used to.” For him, and for many conservatives, this is a good thing because it helps preserve the "orthodox” Anglican Church in the face of “revisionist liberalization”—and they are hoping for an Anglican Church as opposed to a Communion. However, I think that Greg's analysis can be taken a step further. Just as Giles--as an Englishman--does not, and cannot, fully and truly understand our “American” (and by “American,” I assume he means North American, and in particular of the United States) culture, neither can the Primates of the Communion, including the moderate and liberal ones--as English, Indian, Nigerian, etc.--fully understand the peculiarly “American” nature of the Episcopal Church.

Not only has the proliferation of Episcopal and Anglican blogs increased the flow of information and opportunities for communication, it also shows just how diverse our church is—and not just the Episcopal Church, but the whole Anglican Communion. Unfortunately, fewer and fewer folks on either end of the spectrum want to live with that diversity. If the Anglican Communion starts to come apart, it may well continue to disintegrate until it becomes a loose affiliation of individual parishes.

Can you spell “congregationalism?”

Peace,
Jeffri

Admiral Byrd and Party

As cold grips most of the northern part of the continent, I find myself thankful that I am in Connecticut where the lows have been above 0 and not in Minnesota where they have been well below--and that's without the windchill factor!

I spent my freshman year of college at Moorhead State University--now Minnesota State University-Moorhead--on the banks of the Red River. Some of my thoughts and impressions of that time are recorded in my journals. I have kept a journal off and on since I was 10. I did not write very often during my college years, although there are more entries from my freshman year than from the following three. However, even without those journal entries, I have a pretty good record of that first year of college. In the back of one of my file drawers is a worn manila envelope. In that envelope are not only letters from my parents that I saved, but the letters I wrote to my parents that Mom saved.

The envelopes, which Mom also saved, are as telling as the letters. The return address on a letter written in the midst of winter reads "Admiral Byrd and Party." While not the coldest place in Minnesota, winter along the banks of the Red River can be bitter. The winter of 1978-79 was particularly so, in part because the usual "January thaw" did not happen. I was ready to believe the local joke, "There are four seasons in Minnesota, Early Winter, Mid Winter, Late Winter, and Next Winter." Spring came, but the winter weather dragged on. At one point I swore that if it snowed one more time, I would be on the next plane to New York, final exams be damned. Fortunately, the German Club was on a trip to Minneapolis the April weekend when the last snowfall happened.

Seasonal Affective Disorder had not yet become something people thought about, but I was depressed that winter. It was not just the weather and the darkness. Moorhead State was a commuter school. Major social functions took place on Thursday nights. I lived in a dorm complex of approximately 500, and one Saturday morning at about 2 a.m. there was a fire in one of the utility closets--quickly extinguished, but we still had to evacuate the buildings. Of 500 residents, 10 came out of the building into the winter cold. Nor did I like the program in which I was enrolled.

When spring finally did come, flood control and sandbagging dominated the community's life. I've always wondered who in their right mind builds not one (Moorhead, MN), not two (Moorhead and Fargo, ND), not three (Moorhead, Fargo, and Grand Forks, ND), but FOUR (Moorhead, Fargo, Grand Forks and Winnipeg, Manitoba) major cities on the flood plain of the only river on the continent that flows NORTH!

And so, I became one of those students the dean always talks about at orientation. "Look at the person next to you. There's a 50% chance she or he will not be here next year." I boarded the plane for Chicago with appointments to visit three colleges on my way home. The following fall found me at Rockford College in Illinois.

Every year winter rolls around, and every year I am reminded of my time in Minnesota. And some years, though not every year, I pull out the envelope of letters and visit the college freshman on the banks of the Red River.

Peace,
Jeffri

Rewriting History

While skimming through the Stand Firm (Traditional Anglicanism in America) website—I do that occasionally, because even though I may not agree with these folks, I sometimes learn things from them—I stumbled across “A Timeline of the Path of the Episcopal Church: A New Online ‘Wiki.’” In her January 30th post on the Stand Firm site, Susan Hey writes:

Many Episcopalians ask me and others how they can communicate to Beloved Moderates about the serious challenges facing the Episcopal church. This timeline, developed by Andy Figueroa, is very helpful in chronicling ECUSA's path over the past 40 years, and includes links to original sources.

It is an awesome resource.

Better still, it functions as an online "Wiki", allowing registered users to contribute by editing pages, or submitting more content by creating new pages.

Check out the timeline here. Then print and pass it on to friends! And if you're interested, register to add more helpful content.

(The post and comments can be found at http://www.standfirminfaith.com/index.php/site/article/1991/.)

So I went to take a look at “Walking Apart” (found at http://hopeanglican.us/walkingapart/tiki-index.php?page=Walking+Apart), and read the introduction, which begins:

Liturgical Innovation and Prayerbook Revision - sowing he seeds of corruption

In 1943, General Convention approved a new lectionary for the Offices of Morning and Evening Prayer of the 1928 BCP. It replaced the orginal lectionary published from 1928 until 1942. The 1943 revisions took out many sciptures which taught angainst homosexuality, such as Romans 1:22-27 (For example, see lectionary for Evening Prayer on the Seventh Sunday after Trinity in newer 1928 BCPs.), prophetically setting the stage for the 1960s and 1970s.

None of the references listed in this information section document the 1943 changes in terms of removing readings “which taught angainst [sic] homosexuality.” They do provide a reasonable overview of why many conservatives feel that the current Book of Common prayer is not a true Book of Common Prayer.

Come on, folks, the issue of homosexuality probably was not even on the radar screen for the upper class white men gathered for General Convention 1943. And even if they were aware of the issue, they almost certainly would not have been removing from the lectionary anything that condemned it. So far I have found nothing to back up Andy Figueroa's assertion that passages were removed from the lectionary because they condemned homosexual behavior. I will probably take a trip to the library to see if I can get Bayard Hale Jones' The American Lectionary, published in 1944, through interlibrary loan. Jones was one of the primary authors of the 1943 Lectionary revision. I may also email the Archives of the Episcopal Church and see what they can find for me on the 1943 change.

In the meantime, take a look for yourself.

Peace,
Jeffri

Note: All the web pages referenced in this entry were available as of February 2, 2007. The spelling and grammar of the italicized selections are as I found them on the original sites.

St. Bridget and the Groundhog

The Feast of St. Bridget of Ireland and Candlemas are just two of the many examples of how older religious traditions and customs became an integral part of Christianity and also survive in current folklore.

Imbolc is a festival of Celtic origin marking the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. Many of our so-called pagan friends celebrate it today. It is also called “An Fhéill Bhride,” the festival of Brigid, an Irish goddess of hearth and home. Rather than the bonfires of the other Celtic fire festivals, Imbolc involved the rekindling and blessing of hearth fires.

As Christianity spread through Ireland, rather than stamp out non-Christian practices and festivals, the church adopted many of them and transformed them. Thus Imbolc became the Feast Day of St. Bridget. Traditionally the founder of a double monastery (a community of both women and men) in Kildare, Bridget is also known as the only female bishop in Ireland, and her successors held the equivalent power and authority until the Synod of Kells in 1152. A legend arose later to explain this anomaly of a woman with such status in the church. The elderly bishop Mel (St. Patrick’s nephew), as he was blessing her during the ceremony where she and the first nuns took the veil, inadvertently read the Rite of Consecration of a Bishop which could not be rescinded under any circumstances.

If the Christian Bridget truly existed, her story became intertwined with that of the ancient goddess Brigid. All the information we have about Bridget comes from early biographies, some of the earliest Lives of Saints written, and from legends and folk tales collected after the 17th century, primarily in the 19th and early 20th centuries, most of which can be traced to the early biographies.

While Bridget’s feast day is February 1st, the fire associations of the Celtic Brigid continue in the celebration of Candlemas on February 2nd. Also called the Purification of the Blessed Virgin and Feast of the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, Candlemas is the day on which candles and incense for the coming church year are blessed. Another ancient, pre-Christian tradition also survives at Candlemas. People believed that Candlemas predicted the weather would be for the second half of Winter. An old poem, believed to have originated in Scotland, preserves the tradition.

As the light grows longer
The cold grows stronger
If Candlemas be fair and bright
Winter will have another flight
If Candlemas be cloud and rain
Winter will be gone and not come again
A farmer should on Candlemas day
Have half his corn and half his hay
On Candlemas day if thorns hang a drop
You can be sure of a good pea crop

And so we come to Groundhog day here in the United States. Actually, this folk tradition also predates Christianity. Ancient European cultures believed that if hibernating animals left their dens too early and saw their shadow, they were frightened back in for another six weeks. The Romans called it Hedgehog Day.

Here are two short prayers in honor of St. Bridget. The first is from Lesser Feasts and Fasts of the Episcopal Church, and the second from the Northumbria Community’s Celtic Daily Prayer.

Everliving God, we rejoice today in the fellowship of your blessed servant Brigid, and we give you thanks for her life of devoted service. Inspire us with life and light, and give us perseverance to serve you all our days; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, world without end.

There is a door to which you have the key,
and you are the sole keeper.
There is a latch no hand can lift save yours.
No ruler, nor warrior, writer, thinker:
but only you.
O heart, hurry now and welcome your King
to sit by the warmth of your fire.

The St Bridget's cross is placed in the eaves on February 1 to ward off fire and storms from affecting the house. It is traditionally made of rushes, but other materials can be used. Here is a link to instructions for making one: http://www.irishcultureandcustoms.com/1Kids/MakingBrigdXs.html

Peace,
Jeffri