18 Apr - Earth Day and Easter?

Following the celebration of Easter, Earth Day now comes along. The timing, frankly, seems a little off. Those who proposed and celebrated the first Earth Day probably didn’t consult the Christian calendar. If they did, they may well have chosen to mark Earth Day during the season of Lent.
Earth Day needs to call us to a stance not unlike that of Lent: a day to reflect on how our own lives and our society’s economic practices impact God’s creation. A time to reflect on our own call in relationship to God’s creation, human and non-human.
In the second chapter of Genesis we read that we were put in the garden to “till and keep” or to “work it and take care of it.” If we take a look at the Hebrew word often translated as “till” or “work” or “cultivate,” we find the word abad. Abad is the Hebrew word for “serve.” It’s the same word that shows up in the profound words of Joshua: “As for me and my house, we will abad the Lord” – meaning we will “serve” the Lord.
It’s telling to note that, by and large, we humans don’t think of “serve,” as appears in that second chapter of Genesis, as the best descriptor of our role in relationship to God’s Earth. Rather, it’s safe to say that more of us think of “dominion,” as appears in first chapter of Genesis. That’s the more famous verse.
But I believe our role here on God’s good earth is to be servants of creation, and there's a long litany of evidence suggesting our service is not going so well. Species, expressions of God’s abundance and creativity and love, are going extinct at a rate not seen since the disappearance of the dinosaurs. They are disappearing at 1,000 to 10,000 times the “background rate” or natural extinction rate. Human activity, particularly habitat distruction, is the cause of such extinctions.
While the debate in the United States goes on, it’s hard to look into the eyes of a Pacific Islander or Alaskan coastal native or Filipino farmer and say climate change is not real. Leaders of the Anglican Communion in the Philippines recently wrote the following in a letter to a justice network in the Diocese of Olympia:
“A year ago, our own Bishop of our Diocese of North Central Philippines, Rt. Rev. Joel A. Pachao, said in a meeting with some of our foreign partners, ‘We are doing all these environmental stewardship programs so that you can continue to drive your SUVs.’ It was an expression of anger … over the fact that it is us in the so-called ‘developing … countries’ who are suffering most from the effects of climate change which can be attributed to carbon … emissions, the bulk of which are from the western developed countries.”
Dr. Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, recently told an audience at Southwark Cathedral in London that people had allowed themselves to become “addicted to fantasies about prosperity and growth, dreams of wealth without risk and profit without cost.”
Those fantasies have disconnected us from our innate biophilia. Williams contends that those fantasies lead to a lifestyle where the human soul was “one of the foremost casualties of environmental degradation.” He went on to say:
“Many of the things which have moved us towards ecological disaster have been distortions of whom and what we are and their overall effect has been to isolate us from the reality we’re part of. Our response to this crisis needs to be, in the most basic sense, a reality check.”
So perhaps part of the really good news of Earth Day is that it offers the opportunity to heal our disconnection from that which we love so deeply. The distortions of who and what we are will begin to heal; we will reunite with that innate biophilia; no longer will we quiet the song of another species, or of a babe in arms. The angels and all the creatures surrounding the throne depicted in Revelations will be healed and proclaim praises in full voice.
May it be so. It may sound utopian, but it is something Jesus believed in so much that he was willing to die for it – for such will the Kingdom of God be like. Maybe Easter is, after all, an appropriate season for us to mark and celebrate Earth Day.

Michael Schut, Economic and Environmental Affairs Officer of the Episcopal Church

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18 Apr - What's Your Conversion Story?

What’s your conversion story?

Do you know you’re an instrument of God?

These are the questions that come to my mind when I read this portion of Acts. The conversion of Paul is probably the most famous conversion story in the Bible because it’s pretty dramatic. Let’s review a little bit. Saul was zealous at trying to ferret out men and women who were “of the Way” – early Christians. He was a man who believed he was right and doing God’s work.

So he’s on the way to Damascus and suddenly a bright light, brighter than the noonday sun, envelops him and he falls to the ground and he hears: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” And Saul’s reply is: “Who are you, Lord?” It’s not quite as ironic as it sounds because “lord” is really translated better as “sir”. I’m sure he was surprised and terrified to hear it was Jesus calling him. The light goes away, but he can’t see. He is totally helpless. Those travelling with him take him to Damascus; take him to a place where he’ll be safe, where he prays and fasts.

Enter Ananias. Ananias, plain old guy – this is the only time we see him. We might as well call him “John Smith” and he’s called in a vision by God to go and heal Saul. And he says: “Whoa! Wait a minute. I’ve heard all the stories about this guy. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” And God says: “Go!” But Ananias is privileged enough to hear why – that God has chosen Saul to be an instrument of spreading the Good News to the Gentiles. So Ananias goes and lays hands on him; heals Paul and fills him with the Holy Spirit. I think it’s important that we notice that. Ananias, John Smith, plain ole guy, not an apostle, nobody truly special, but heals Paul and fills him with the Holy Spirit. We are all full of the Holy Spirit. This is what we can do.

I imagine that there are lots of stories of conversions here in this congregation; maybe not even conversions to Christianity or even becoming an Episcopalian. But I would venture to guess that every story made you a better person and a better Christian. We are all instruments of God. I invite you to open your hearts, especially when you’re feeling helpless. Open your hearts to what God is trying to say and celebrate with the joy of Paul in proclaiming that Jesus is indeed the Son of God.

Peace,

The Rev. M.E. Eccles

11 Apr - You Are Free

Every night the same routine played out. It happened around the time the 11 o’clock news was on. As a child she usually slept right through it, but there were those occasions when she’d rouse from sleep, hearing the familiar gate of her father’s footsteps walking first to the kitchen door, then to the front door, then tramp downstairs to the basement. Dad would walk through the house and check the doors and secure the locks if need be.

It was a safe feeling to have – knowing that Dad was making everything safe and secure and that she and her family were out of harm’s way. Locked doors, secure doors, were comforting. The doors said, “If you just stay holed up here until daylight, then all will be well.” It was as if, in their silent and stalwart way, they were saying, “Everything is going to be okay, nothing can get through me, and I’m not going to let anything get to you.”

In short, locked doors assuaged fears, trepidations, anxieties, and uncertainties, and quelled the late-night wanderings of an active imagination.

Perhaps that is what the disciples felt on that Easter night so long ago. They were in the room behind the locked doors in fear of those who killed Jesus. They had walked alongside him for three years. They had been out in the public with him and engaged in his work and crusade. Then they who had spoken so confidently had, in the end when it mattered most, deserted him and the cause. They not only deserted him, some even denied they knew him.

Maybe what the disciples were doing was not so much shutting out the world, but locking themselves in. Isn’t that the way it goes with our hearts?

We face fears, anxieties, trepidations, uncertainties, and even shame on a daily basis. We slam home the bolts of the locks on our hearts, and we realize that by locking the world out, we are really shutting ourselves in. We become a prisoner of our own sins, shame, and self-perceptions. Like the disciples, we try to hide from our shame and disappointment in ourselves by locking the doors to our hearts and not letting anyone in.

“To forgive,” in Greek, also means “to set free.” It means to release from bondage and captivity. When Jesus stands among the disciples in a room with a locked door and announces, “Peace be with you,” he is saying not only are “You are forgiven,” but also “You are free.”

At the center of the gospel is the proclamation that Jesus Christ has come looking for us – even behind closed doors. According to John’s text, he walks right through the locked doors to find us. He shows us his wounds from the cross, which are the marks of our forgiveness. Then he says, “Peace be with you.” You are forgiven, peace is restored to your troubled soul, and you are free.

The Rev. Scott Baker, Rector of St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Newport News, VA

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4 April - Easter Mediation from Bishop Lee

Watch Bishop Lee's Easter Meditation Video

Bishop Lee's Easter Meditation

In these days of Holy Week and throughout the Easter season, we have the opportunity not just to remember the events of Jesus’ passing from death to life, but to enter those events ourselves, to experience them in our own lives. A great theologian of the ancient church wrote this: “The Father accepts the sacrifice of Christ, not because he demands it, still less because he feels some need of it, but in order to carry forward his own purposes for the world. Humanity had to be brought back to life by the humanity of God. We had to be summoned to life by God’s Son.” (Gregory of Nazianzus, 4th c.)

The life of the church, the community of those who have been baptized into the death and resurrection of Christ, is nothing less than the extension in time and space of God’s humanity. When the apostle Paul writes to one of his churches, “You are the Body of Christ and members of it,” he’s not kidding. The life, death and resurrection of Jesus includes us, it embraces all humanity. The mystery of Jesus’ death and resurrection extends to all the deaths and resurrections taking place daily around us. Every injustice, every act of violence, every instance of poverty is a participation in the cross. Every act of justice, kindness and mercy bears the potential for transformed, resurrected life.

The mission of the church is to align itself more and more with God’s decision to enter our humanity – with all its pain and possibility – and redeem it. We have the astonishing invitation from God to join in God’s project of restoring all creation to right relationship. As Christians we can only do that by realizing our fundamental identification with the dying and rising of the Lord Jesus. As members of his living Body, we are his hands and heart God has given for the needs of a broken and bleeding world. This Holy Week and throughout the Easter season, let us live the words we say. Let us renew our commitment to become who we are. A blessed celebration of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

In Christ,

Jeffrey D. Lee
Bishop of Chicago

28 Mar - Giving Everything

What was missing from Luke’s description of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem that we heard in the first part of the service?

Palms.

There are no palms in his description.

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem – from his description would you call it triumphant?

I wouldn’t. What was normal for a king like Caesar, or even someone like Pontius Pilot, to do upon entering a city like Jerusalem was to find the finest, largest war horse and put on the finest armor and follow a parade of soldiers and chariots. The idea being that this is a triumphant king and no one would dare challenge him. Now Jesus – Jesus enters as a king of peace. He enters on a donkey, a work animal. And he enters just as he is.

The other thing missing from Luke’s description is the people who welcome him are not everybody in Jerusalem, but his disciples – the people that have followed him and the people who have heard of his great works and believe in him. And instead of palms, they lay before him their cloaks.

What’s so special about a cloak? According to Jay Cormier in the Lenten Reflection Not by Bread Alone that we’ve been reading this Lent, a cloak was the single most valuable item of clothing a person in that time had. You got one. You mended it and took care of it and for some, for the poor, it was more than just something to keep them warm, it was their home. So here the disciples are laying before Jesus their best.

What might Jesus have been thinking and feeling as he rode into Jerusalem, not just to give his best, but to give everything for us?

Peace,

The Rev. M.E. Eccles, LPC

21 Mar - You Do Not Always Have Me

We are nearing the end of our Lenten journey. Just ahead of us lies Palm Sunday, when we will remember Jesus’ triumphant entry into the city of Jerusalem, hailed as a king. Then, quickly, we shift into the events leading up to his death: his arrest, trial, and death. It is a moment for us to pause and take a deep breath.

In the Gospel lesson for the 5th Sunday of Lent (John 12:1-8), we find a similar moment.

Jesus is a guest at the home of his friend Lazarus and his sisters, Martha and Mary. We are reminded that Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead, and now he sits at the table with the other guests. Although it is not mentioned here, Jesus was a guest in this home earlier in his ministry. On that occasion, Martha was preparing the meal, complaining that Mary wasn’t lifting a finger to help. Instead, Mary was seated at Jesus’ feet, eager to learn from him. Here, Martha is serving the guests. And Mary? Mary is no longer sitting quietly at the feet of her teacher. She has become active, assertive, even daring. The Gospel tells us: “Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair.” It is an action of lavish love and hospitality. The fragrance of the nard fills the room. No one could miss what is happening here. Mary’s action is an extraordinary, lavish demonstration of love for Jesus. It is an act of intimacy, using her hair to wipe his feet. This event reaches beyond the specific time frame of this Gospel story. Jesus tells the others that Mary bought the nard to be used on the day of his burial. Past, present, and future are intertwined in this story.

In the final sentence of the Gospel passage, Jesus says of this moment, “. . .you do not always have me.” He is pointing to the future, anticipating his death. The reality that soon he will no longer be present to his friends and his followers. Not in the same way that he is here in this story. Not in the way that he has been throughout his ministry. Right now, in this time and this place, everyone should take a deep breath and focus on the moment. Focus on Jesus as present, as honored guest. Value what they have. Be aware of what lies ahead.

So we, like the people in the Gospel story, pause to remember and celebrate Jesus’ ministry. To give thanks for what has been. To gather our own courage for what lies ahead. As you move on in the final part your Lenten journey and into Holy Week, may it be a blessed time. Rich in anticipation. Rich in experience. Rich in meaning.

Peace,

Deacon Sue

7 Mar - Lenten Thought

Luke 13:1-9

This gospel lesson today sounds so strange to our ears. People brought Jesus this report about Pilate killing Galileans in the midst of their offering sacrifices in the temple. The crowds wondered what those people had done wrong – why were they being punished. And more to the point, how could they avoid meeting the same fate. As is quite normal for Jesus, he doesn’t give them the response that they expect. After adding two more stories of his own, the story of the tower of Siloam and the story of the Fig Tree, he says, “Unless YOU repent, YOU will all perish.”

In other words, Jesus took two violent stories, and used them to talk about repentance – to warn people that they too would perish unless they repented. The story of the fig tree was similar. Jeremiah had talked about the people of Israel as barren fig trees – the people to whom Jesus was speaking knew that. This is also a frequent theme of Jesus. Our lives, he tells us again and again, are accountable. We are responsible beings who are judged by the fruits of our lives. Then, the parable gives us a glimpse of a merciful love which will give this tree more nourishment, more tending, more time – yet another chance. So will a merciful God respond to any possibility of a response in us. So Jesus says, “Unless YOU repent, you will perish.”

When we think of repentance, we usually think of feeling sorry for something we did wrong. But feeling sorry is just the first step. The second step in repentance means changing something – changing some behavior. True repentance requires making changes. Making changes is never easy. But repentance can be an everyday thing – by making small changes, a daily purging of the things that cause us trouble - - a daily turning more and more toward God.

I will close with an invitation. Let me invite you to think of one thing that you need to change today. What do you need to do to make your life better? What do you need to do to bring your life into harmony with God’s plan for you? What repentance do you need to make? Then ask yourself, “Why am I having trouble letting go of this thing that is causing me trouble?” Then, make a decision, get rid of that thing, and change direction – make a course correction - - and prepare to receive God’s great blessing!

Lenten blessings to you, Bob+