Execution

From the Epistle to the Romans:

Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. On the contrary:
"If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Southern Indiana

We spent the morning recovering from staying up too late last night, of course. This is the standard experience whenever we visit my in-laws. Lovely folks, but confirmed night people, every last one of them. Fortunately, they've been quite tolerant over the years of my preference for mornings, even if they aren't entirely convinced that it's not some sort of personality disorder. It's hardly my worst fault; I mean, I've never learned to drink iced tea with sugar in it, either.

This is the way families function: a mixture of teasing and tolerance, with a sprinkling of amused resignation regarding foibles and idiosyncracies. They're good that way.

This afternoon some additional family came over for dinner. Nieces and nephews running rampant-- at full speed and nearly full volume-- while the grownups sat at the table and caught up with one another. All great fun, really-- but it was also lovely to enjoy the quiet when they all went home, as my extroverted side only has a limited durability before it needs to curl up and hide. They left with one extra passenger: The Boy went home with his cousin to spend the night, where they will no doubt stay up much too late bonding over video games and plotting ways to massacre alien hordes.

I am still dealing with the sniffling, sneezing, stuffy head and watery eyes; hardly what you'd call a fun date. Thankfully, my thoughtful husband brought me home a sackful of pharmaceutical solutions designed to alleviate the worst of it. So I am at least functional, if not as perky as I'd like to be.

Merry Mobile Christmas!

Sunday was long, but a good day. Two morning services (4 Advent) and two evening services (Christmas Eve) meant activity from 7 AM until about 10 PM. Then opening presents on Monday morning (where all were pleased, I believe), and one more worship service (Christmas Day Lessons & Carols) before we got on a plane for a week back in the midwest, to visit family. The trip was uneventful, except for a delay in our connection in Minneapolis while we waited for a flight crew; and the unwelcome appearance of head cold symptoms (one Christmas gift I could have done without).

Right now I'm sitting at southern Indiana-- listening to our daughter chat with Grandma while the boys wrestle around the living room and debate which movie to watch. Looks as though the Pirates won.

The cold is blooming nicely. I'm off to hunt down hot tea, meaningful decongestants and some sleep... and a few days where checking email is as close I get to work.

Conversion

Advent worship, and it's echo:
preparation draped in purple.
Impatient souls magnify the Lord
awaiting strength
and mercy
and justice.

Then later, back again:
celebration now clothed in white.
Evergreen hope
in new candles
and old carols.

Advent Mary, swollen in expectation
replaced by new mother
and tiny miracle.
Strength shown
in chubby newborn fist.
Mercy come
through unforgiving labor
Justice lying
in undeserved straw.

What's happening here?

While I've been silent on the blogs, things have been busy here in corporeal reality. In the last two weeks I have:

• Helped to develop a plan for distribution of Derby Fire relief donations. It seems that $20,000 will buy one semi truckload of replacement fence posts, to replace about 18 miles of perimeter fencing. We had applications for more than 100 miles. So no one got all they needed, but everyone who applied got some help.
• Held four - yes, that's right, FOUR - vestry meetings. End of year budgets, and annual meeting planning for four churches. And then. . .
  
• Put together, explained and distributed a schedule to ensure that sort of insanity doesn't happen again. That's one bit of nonsense which has to stop, for the benefit of all concerned.
• Organized and publicized Christmas Eve and Christmas Day worship schedules, and planning and preparing liturgies for same. The schedule does not make everyone happy; but then, nothing ever does.
• Practicing. It's been a while since I've sung the Eucharistic Prayer, but for special feast days, like Christmas, I like to make the effort. (for the Episcopal liturgy geeks among you: Prayer D, Mozarabic Tone).
  
• Creating Bulletins. Four sets: 4 Advent, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the Sunday after Christmas. Done, and distributed to their respective churches. I was given an early Christmas present in this regard, when one of my churches agreed to pay for their printing and folding.
• Sermons. Sunday morning (4 Advent) and Sunday evening (Christmas Eve).
• Household activities. Yes, the priest has a life outside the confines of church buildings, or tries to. Shopping, decorating, etc. Mailing various happy packages hither and yon. I even made it out with my husband for our annual "Shop For the Kids and Then Reward Ourselves by Dining Out at a Nice Place Without Them." evening.

Today, being my day off, will be devoted to cookie preparation. One part of Christmas preparations I love-- using butter and sugar with abandon, and not worrying about calories or fat grams, because I will give most of it away.

Christmas cards. Okay, this one isn't done yet. I figure this is why the season of Christmas has 12 days. Failing that... friends, watch for Epiphany Cards, from our family to yours.

A day in the life

Did you ever stumble across an image that seems to express clearly your own world at any given moment?

I'm just sayin'. . .

A letter from Jesus

We've had plenty of "open letters" flung about recently, as part of the "goings on" in our church. And the wingeing about "Putting Christ back in Christmas" has already begun, online and in the media. Being a responsible pastor, I wouldn't want to miss the boat! Fortunately, the following covers both bases. It was passed on to me by my father (Hi, Daddy!)*

Dear Children,

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate my birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. Although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, love one another.

Now, having said that, let me go on.

If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all my followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can & may remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching explaining who I am in relation to you & what each of our tasks were. If you have forgot that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it.

• 1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

• 2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

• 3. Instead of writing to George complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.

• 4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

• 5. Pick someone who has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

• 6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile it could make the difference. Also, you might consider supporting the local Hot-Line: they talk with people like that every day.

• 7. Instead of nitpicking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

• 8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary, especially one who takes My love & Good News to those who have never heard My name. You may already know someone like that.

• 9. Here's a good one. There are individuals & whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them (and I suspect you don't) buy some food & a few gifts & give them to the Marines, the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me & they will make the delivery for you.

• 10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

Don't forget; I am God and can take care of myself. Just love Me & do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above & get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember.

Shalom,
Jesus

*(Yes, I am a middle-aged, responsible adult-- and he is still "Daddy." You have a problem with that, take it elsewhere.)

Good question

The following comes from The Billings Gazette, reprinted from The Orlando Sentinel. (Posted in its entirety, as I have lost links in the past to archiving).

Almost overlooked in the media frenzy over the spectacular fall from grace of megachurch pastor Ted Haggard was the installation on Nov. 4 of Katharine Jefferts Schori as the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church, the American branch of the 78 million-member Anglican Communion.

Like Nancy Pelosi, who will become the first woman speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives in 2007, Bishop Jefferts Schori is also a pioneer, becoming at her installation in the National Cathedral the first woman ever to preside over an Anglican province in the nearly 500-year history of the Anglican Communion. Both women assume their new roles in troubled times.

The Anglican troubles began in 2003, when the Episcopal Church decided to consecrate an openly gay man as the bishop of New Hampshire. This act ignited a religious civil war that spread rapidly around the world.

Conservative Anglicans regard the election and consecration of an openly gay bishop as a repudiation of biblical authority. In their view, gay sex is a forbidden activity for Christians, as St. Paul and the holiness code of Leviticus make clear. Indeed, conservatives regard attraction to members of one's own sex as a disordered form of love that needs to be overcome rather than expressed - a traditional position recently reiterated by the American bishops of the Roman Catholic Church.

Liberal Anglicans - including Jefferts Schori - disagree. In their view, homosexuality is not a choice. Human beings are born gay. They no more choose to be gay or lesbian than they choose to be tall or short. What they can decide is whether to be promiscuous, taking their pleasures where they find them, or to be faithful to one partner in a lifetime commitment of mutual love and respect.

Liberals believe that Jesus calls heterosexuals to a life of sexual fidelity as heterosexuals and homosexuals to the same standard of fidelity as gay and lesbian. Both are included in the general call to holiness, and no one stands outside the circle of God's loving acceptance.

And that is where the argument stands at the present time. Simply put, the two opposing positions, liberal and conservative, could not be more sharply different. Either gay sex is a disordered form of love and needs to be renounced, or it is part of God's good creation and needs only to be faithful.

This polarized state of affairs has left moderates in the Anglican communion depressed and dispirited. Moderates are people who are appalled by the willingness of both liberals and conservatives to accept schism as the price of defending the truth, however differently both sides define "the truth."

They agree with the late Reinhold Niebuhr that God's quarrel is not with this or that faction of the human family. God's quarrel is with the whole human race, white and black, male and female, liberal and conservative, rich and poor, gay and straight.

Jefferts Schori echoed Niebuhr when she suggested that the present crisis in the Anglican Communion is not the fault of liberals only or of conservatives only, however much each side would like to blame the other. The crisis represents the failure of everyone, liberal and conservative alike, to nurture, love and pray each other into the greater holiness and wisdom these trying times demand.

Speaker-designate Pelosi faces a similar crisis. Can political liberals and conservatives declare a truce in their culture wars long enough to identify and work collaboratively toward a common good?

Of course, the question is always posed in morally sharper terms to the church than it is to society in general. After all, liberal and conservative Anglicans are joined to each other by the waters of baptism, a bond they believe is thicker than blood. They share a common history and liturgical tradition, celebrate an identical list of saints and martyrs, laugh at the same self-deprecating jokes, support many of the same charitable projects, recite a common creed, and participate in a common Eucharist.

If, given these shared memories, Anglicans cannot love and forgive each other, whom exactly can they love and forgive?

House of Bishops - The Next Generation

We celebrated St. Nicholas' Day Wednesday evening. We talked about how, unlike Santa Claus, whom no one ever really sees, St. Nicholas was real person that folks knew and talked to, a very long time ago-- a follower of Jesus, and a bishop of the church who took to heart the Gospel command to give to others without waiting for credit or thanks.

We talked about bishops and the work they are called to do, helping us share God's love with one another. We discussed the symbols of a bishop's office.

By the end of our time together, this was the result.


You know, we could do worse. . .

Later: The good folks at the St. Nicholas Center have asked for and received permission to reference our adventures on their website.

Things they don't teach you in seminary

Warning: the following post is not vegetarian-friendly.

On Monday, I got a call from a Kind-Hearted Parishioner. Her husband is an avid hunter, and had taken an extra deer this year. Would we be interested in some of the meat? Oh, certainly! We are not hunters, either of us; but two of my husband's brothers-in-law are, so we are accustomed to eating wild game. One of the bittersweet realities of our move here was the need to empty out our chest freezer. It was great fun, giving the contents away; but I will admit to some regret over the departure of the venison. So we were delighted to accept the gift.

KHP: "Well, good. He's got it skinned, so it's all ready for you."

Silence, on my end, as I realize that a) she means to give us the whole deer; and b) it is still. . . assembled. I am clueless-- my role in preparing wild game has always been further down the line. I'm a dab hand at wrapping it for the freezer; but someone else has always done the butchering.

I explain this to KHP, who then offered to help with the chore, bless her heart.

So Wednesday I spent the morning at her house, reducing one of Bambi's relatives to his component parts. It was an education-- both in the work we were doing, and in the lives of these good people. We talked about her being raised as one of nine children on a family ranch; about her husband's love for the world about him (this is a conscientious hunter, my urban friends), and how he expresses that in his art. The taciturn Mr. KHP is a past-president of the Montana Back-Country Horsemen, and a recently retired blacksmith who does incredibly beautiful work in wrought iron. Plain, practical people, with faithful and caring hearts.

I came home feeling that the cooler full of meat was not the only gift I had received.

". . . and make him a priest in your church."

Today, the Rev. Micah Jackson (along with a goodly number of others) was ordained to the sacred order of presbyters in Christ's one, holy, catholic and apostolic church.

I was not able to be present at Grace Cathedral this day. However, through the wonder of cyberspace, I was able to listen-- to song and scripture, prayer and proclamation, questions and answers, and the laying on of hands. I smiled as I heard Micah's voice making the required declaration:

I solemnly declare that I do believe the Holy Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be the Word of God, and to contain all things necessary to salvation; and I do solemnly engage to conform to the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Episcopal Church.

And then, give firm answers to the examination that followed. By the grace of God, no one takes his vows any more to heart, or commits to them with any more joyous faithfulness, than does this my friend and brother. Praise Jesus!

May he exalt you, O Lord, in the midst of your people; offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to you; boldly proclaim the gospel of salvation; and rightly administer the sacraments of the New Covenant. Make him a faithful pastor, patient teacher, and wise councilor. Grant that in all things he may serve without reproach, so that your people may be strengthened and your Name glorified in all the world.

Santa's coming... or maybe not.

This time, my recent hiatus from the blogisphere has been due to technical difficulties. I tried (with some help) to make some changes to my template. If you've tried to comment in the last few days, you'd have noticed that it didn't work so well. Actually, it didn't work at all. Fortunately, I've had some further help getting out of the mess, and we're back to normal here.

Perhaps I can take some comfort in knowing that everyone's favorite elf also seems to be, as my daughter would say, having issues:

Santa Too Religious for School

Maine Says No to Santa Label

They appear to be a bit confused, back east...