Saturday, April 14, 2007

Leaving ++Katherine & A WING AND A PRAYER / Looking Forward to ETHICS AFTER EASTER

As we enter into the Easter season, we're moving on and leaving behind Presiding Bishop Katherine Schori's collection of sermons, A WING AND A PRAYER. We'll take a break for a few weeks while preparing ourselves for our Pentecost selection, which comes from The New Church's Teaching Series, Stephen Holmgren's ETHICS AFTER EASTER.

ETHICS AFTER EASTER, which has been used by the Diocese of Northwest Pennsylvania's School for Ministry, is a great way to examine how we are doing in living into our baptismal promises that we affirmed on Easter Sunday. Holmgren takes a very Anglican approach to ethics, not merely as a set of strict rules, but as a series of axioms that help guide us to make moral decisions, both as individuals and as bodies of Christ in the church.

For many of us who wrestle with issues of environment, equality, sexuality, capital punishment, abortion, and the like, Holmgren provides us with historical anecdotes and contemporary interpretations of how we might navigate the moral minefield in contemporary culture and continue to reconcile ourselves to Jesus Christ and one another, as our baptismal promise states.

Feel free to post any responses to these and other comments, as well as offer your own end-of-text reviews of A WING AND A PRAYER!

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

A WING AND A PRAYER "A New Thing"

Opportunities arise for all of us. How do we respond to people who disagree with us about war, or about the best course for our congregation? Do we hang on to a memory of how that person has bruised us, or do we love recklessly? How do we meet a stranger who asks for help? Do we see a person who might endanger us, or a person who needs something we can offer? - p. 109

Every day is a NEW day, and every relationship is a NEW relationship. While we are the sum total of our life experiences, and while identifying patterns and behaviors are valuable ways of navigating our way through the world, there is no reason not to allow that somehow God may be doing something new and unexpected at any given moment - even this present moment.

A few years back, I was walking home from work, twilight, warm early summer evening. In the distance was a guy staggering toward me, laughing, singing, and holding in his hand some kind of shiny, metal object. I thought to myself, "He's got a knife. How am I going to defend myself?" As he approached, he started calling out to me, "Hey! Lemme show you something!" My heart was pounding, and I tensed up and prepared for what I was sure was going to be a confrontation. As he got closer, I realized that he had in his hand a shiny new screwdriver. Out of an apartment building close by came a group of what must have been his buddies, singing, "Happy Birthday to You." He showed me his brand new screwdriver, his buddies laughed and said that they hoped I hadn't been accosted in any way. I wished him a happy birthday, and he said to me, "God bless you!"

I EXPECTED one thing, the worst, because I've seen one too many episodes of C.S.I. What I got, however, was a lesson from God that, while preparation for the worst might be necessary for survival, it's okay to expect the best, as well. What might look like danger may actually be blessing; it's just dependent upon the circumstances and the perspective. Katherine's sixth segment of her book, "Reckless Love: Living Faith with Abandon" is a great reminder that we can expect blessing in the midst of challenge, if we allow ourselves to do so.

Monday, April 02, 2007

A WING AND A PRAYER "The Secret Places of Your Heart"

Jesus' parables about the kingdom of God are about the great dream that God dreams for all creation. A piece of that dream is planted in each one of us. All those examples--the mustard seed that produces a tree shrub to house the birds, the bit of yeast that leavens enough dough for a hundered loaves of bread, the hidden treasure and the fine pearl that searchers are willing to give all to possess, and the fishnet that gathers in all kinds of fish--all those images are pointing to the ways in which God's dream gathers substance. - p. 103

I know that it's silly sometimes to dream of a perfect world, especially in light of the world that we face. We are constantly confronted with humanity's cruelty to one another and to nature. We are shocked at our own inability to maintain a loving and forgiving posture when confronted with the horrors of aggression. We feel that the forces of industry and commerce are so interwoven and complicated that even if we did come together to take steps to end warfare, to end poverty, to end pollution, that our measly attempts would be futile in light of the great powers that drive humanity to the brink of madness.

Yet as we begin Holy Week, we step into the series of remembrances that remind us of an incredible image worth emulating. A single person, a person with a dream, God incarnate who faces the powers of humanity's worst evils, and somehow takes that evil to the vortex of the Cross, and disipates that same evil, ending the cycle of vengeance and aggression, and providing us all with an opportunity to respond to that gift of love and forgiveness.

When you dream of the "perfect world," is it the same dream that Jesus Christ gave us in his teachings? Is it a world of love and forgiveness, where those who have little or nothing are suddenly given abundance, where anger and violence is met with peace and calm, where the powers that attempt to control our earthly existence are reminded that they are only temporary in the plan of God's creation? When you dream, is your dream one in which every person comes invited to the table of salvation, or is it one that only a select few of God's loved creatures are awarded access? Jesus' arms spread very wide on the Cross; why are our elbows clenched so closely together that there are many who are not invited into our embrace?