Thanks Giving 2012

...stewardship is no longer just another word for fund-raising in the church. Stewardship is nothing less than our complete lifestyle. It is our total response and accountability before the Lord, one component of which giving money for work of our Lord through the parish life of the church. Stewardship is what we do after we say, "I believe."
- John C. Rettew, "Stewardship; Why We Give"

Deacon Zach has been giving special attention to our tracks (informational pamphlets) in the narthex (entrance hall). He's found wonderful and informing writings on Anglican faith and formation, how our tradition dialogues with Roman Catholicism, and, in a particularly timely fashion, what is stewardship and how to we participate in it.

John Rettew forked for years as the Controller of the Diocese of Pennsylvania and developed successful approaches toward stewards ship. In his track on stewardship, he places stewardship in the same practical place as worship. Just as we gather together as family and friends each Sunday to share our stories of faith, to welcome newcomers into our midst, and to offer our love and support to each other in relationship, we also, each week, give of the gifts given to us.

We have been given, in our abundance and in our meagerness, and from whatever we have we offer a portion to God in return. We offer our talents and skills, coming from God and developed through our own industry. We find we pray: we offer our talent to pray for the church as intercessors. We find that we can share stories: we offer our talent as lectors. We find we prepare: we offer our talent to set and clear the altar. From wherever our talents come, we bring those talents into our worship.

We have also been given industry and income, and we offer a portion of that income to the church in order to help assure our weekly gathering (our leadership, our building, our resources), and to do the work of the church in our community (our almsgiving, our programming, our guests and neighbors).

In order to help plan for the year to come, we invite all who share in our worship and ministry to look at the year to come and make a commitment to our life together, in sharing our talents and sharing in our expenses. And we each give according to our abilities - no amount is too small or too large, and there is no redundancy in our ministries.

Whatever you have, you are invited to share - and in return, rejoice in knowing that you are participating in the good work which we have all been given to do.

Peace in Christ,

Fr. Shawn
Vicar, St. Mary's/Lawrence Park
 

Summer 2012

Almi and I celebrated our 27th wedding anniversary with a quick jaunt to Buffalo for dinner and a show. A priest friend of mine, Cathy Dempsey, of Church of the Good Shepherd in Buffalo suggested Bambino’s for our dinner, and we thoroughly enjoyed our meal.

For our entertainment, we headed over a couple of blocks from the restaurant to the Irish Classical Theatre Company, in residence at the Allen Theatre, for a production of the play DA by Hugh Leonard. DA was the first Irish play to win a Tony Award for Best Play (1978), and while we have seen countless productions of numerous plays and musical, neither Almi nor I had ever seen this play. It was a lovely treat, especially for a father’s day weekend.

The play is a memory play in which an Irish writer, Charlie Tynan, returns to his home in Dalkey, County Dublin, Ireland, for his stepfather’s funeral and to close up the family house, a meager and unassuming little place. He discovers that the house is not only visited by his boyhood friend and his business mentor, but also ghosts of his stepparents, old girlfriends, and others from the family past. Charlie comes to understand and accept his step father, “Da” (which is Irish slang for “Dad” or “Papa”), and also realizes that while gone, the spirit of his “Da” will always be with him.

I began to think about my own father, prompted by Leonard’s play. Ed Clerkin was a bit of a pain in the butt at times – headstrong, master of the house, set in his ways. He had a wonderfully playful sense of humor, more prone to pun and jokes than wit, and he loved to tell his favorite jokes over and over and over again. After his grandchildren were born, and he was given the nickname of “Poppy,” he called these quips, “Poppy-Jokes.” He even would give us fair warning – “I’ve got a Poppy-Joke for you!” which more often than not would trigger a rolling of the eyes or even a moan, neither of which would stop him from sharing.

Ed Clerkin could also be short tempered and implacable, even to the point of ignoring anything new in order to preserve what he understood to be the important past. He kept the household checkbook on top of the refrigerator, where our inquisitive minds wouldn’t find it and my mother’s limited height could not reach. He came home from work each and every day at 3:05 pm, slept in his recliner until 4:15 pm, washed his hands, and sat down to dinner at 4:30 pm. He could say the table blessing in less than five seconds, yet insisted that it be said at each and every meal. While he was a democrat, more because of his blue collar background in manufacturing industries where unions were necessary to negotiate fairness, he would be hard pressed to vote on party lines; he listened closely to each and every candidate and voted according to the person, not the mascot. He went to church every Sunday, and was quietly disappointed when his children did not accompany him.

He had a strength and obstinacy even in his final moments. Suffering from a coronary aneurism which ruptured during a shower, he insisted on dressing himself and even hoisting himself up onto the ambulance gurney before being taken from the house. He refused to succumb to his fatal condition in the presence of my mother and brother. On the way out of the door, my mother took him by the hand and said to him, “Everything will be all right.” He replied, “I hope so.” He didn’t pass until he was off the front porch of the house, out of my family’s presence.

Ed Clerkin was also capable, on rare occasions, of amazing transformation. At my ordination and many times following he received the Holy Eucharist from me and many other Episcopal clergy men and women (even though he was a devoted Roman Catholic throughout his life). He read the Bible with a sincere reverence, but was always happy to share a new interpretation or inspiration he had been shown. He was a lover of music and good entertainment, and while a great fan of John Wayne and the American westerns, he was also very accepting of the many songs, stories, and characters that his wonderfully creative children and grandchildren had invited him to enjoy.

This Father’s Day, I too am surrounded by ghosts – my father, my father-in-law, professors, teachers, performers, and friends – all of whom have parented me in one way or another. I celebrate the gifts that they have given me, and I hope that I had gifted them in some way as well. I give thanks for their lives and their love, and I treasure the fact that their spirits, in the communion of saints, continue to walk with us throughout our days.

Peace in Jesus Christ,

Shawn+

GOOD FRIDAY 2012

As we began the three-day liturgy on Maundy Thursday with the “first act,” the anamnesis of Jesus' invitation to his disciples to be a humble and serving community and to live in communion centered around the Eucharist, after a brief intermission, we enter the second act of our Passion Play, Good Friday. Regardless of our religious tradition, Good Friday is a day that is recognized by almost all Christian traditions. The center piece of our scripture readings for today is the Passion from the Gospel of John. This extended narrative from chapters 18 & 19 takes us through Jesus' arrest, his trials (first before the Jewish authorities and then before Pilate), to the crucifixion and death, and ending with his entombment.

While the structure of John's passion is basically is the same that we find in the gospels of Mark, Matthew, and Luke, the details are quite different -- the timing/dating of the events, the role some of the characters play, the use of Hebrew Scripture, the dialogue, and the theology of John's passion narrative are very different from synoptic gospels. This week, I spent time reading the commentary of Dr. O. Wesley Allen, Jr., an associate professor of homiletics and worship from Lexington Theological Seminary in Kentucky. For Dr. Allen, there are two notable distinctions in John.

First, is how John presents the vision of the cross. The past few weeks, we’ve had a mixture of Mark and John Gospels. Many of the readings from John have focused on Jesus’ announcements of his impending glory, always pointing out that even though his miracles, or “signs” as John identifies them, have been demonstrations of God’s work in Him, that he has not yet been “glorified.” Dictionary definitions of “glorified” include “cause to be treated as more splendid or excellent than would normally be considered” and “to honor with praise, admiration, or worship” and “to praise the glory of God.” The healings, the preaching, even the raising of Lazarus while not “normal” are, for Jesus, not the reason to praise, admire, or worship. For Jesus, what is worthy of praise to the glory of God is at the end of his earthly ministry.

John is signaling and important reversal of language – in spite of its horror and its humiliation, the cross is not to be understood as defeat. The whole of Jesus' ministry, the entire gospel of John, leads to this moment of Jesus’ being "lifted up." The cross is the hour of Jesus' (and God's) glorification. Dr. Allen notes that for many, we see the glory of resurrection as overcoming the humiliation and degradation of the cross, but Jesus, in the gospel of John, is saying the opposite. This is “Good” Friday, and what God is doing in the cross is good. Indeed, death is reclaimed by Jesus from something to be feared because of its unknown consequences, and is repurposed as an integral part of Jesus passion, DEATH, and resurrection. We must die in order to live. And the cross is the focal point of that understanding – as an instrument of death it becomes a catalyst for eternal life. The cross is transformed, taken from its “normal” meaning and made a point of our “worship” by which we “give glory to God.”

The second way in which the gospel of John is unique is that in this narrative, Jesus is in control. Unlike the Mark gospel which we read last Sunday, in which Jesus says very little, is manipulated by the Temple and Roman hierarchies, in the Fourth Gospel, Jesus is very much stage managing this act of the play. Jesus, in a way very different from the first three gospels, choreographs his own suffering and death reinforces the presentation of the crucifixion as an element of God's plan instead of a defeat which God must overcome with the resurrection. For John’s original readers, who themselves had wondered why God had allowed such tragedies as the destruction of the temple and the Diaspora of the Jewish people, this sense of all being God’s will or plan must have been very comforting.

Still, just because the John helps us to see God's grace and glory in the cross, this does not mean that there is no place for sadness in reflecting on it. In fact, there is so much sadness in John’s description and interpretation of the crucifixion that many of us cannot help but be moved. Still, we place our grief in the background of our joy, a strange and wonderful mix of sorrow and celebration.

This mixture of many feelings is precisely what the Passion and this night are all about. We are in a beautiful liturgical space that certainly places the cross at the center of our worship, as it is every week, but last night we stripped the altar of all its beautiful appointments. We ourselves are humbled to see our savior on the cross, but we are also sharing a celebration of the glory of God in this moment. And while this act of the play doesn’t allow us to sing out our thanksgiving, as we will tomorrow night, we should, as Dr. Allen shares, certainly be able to muster up a hearty, "Amen," even if we do so with a tear in our eyes. (Allen)

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Allen, O. Wesley Allen, Jr. 2012. “Commentary on Gospel.” . 6 April 2012.

Lent II 2012

...faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word of Christ. - Romans 10:17


Do you remember the first time you believed? Do you remember the first time you heard the Good News? Do you remember who shared the gospel of Jesus Christ with you?

For many of us who have been Christians from the cradle, we cannot answer these questions. I can't recall a time in my life when I did not believe. Sure, there have been times when I may have had my faith shaken or shifted, or when the belief I had needed to change because God revealed something about God's self that I had not known before. But I have always believed.

This is not so for many around us. We are surrounded by people who have no faith, nor have they ever had any belief. It might be because their families might not have time for religious faith and worship, or that they have lost their faith because other things become priorities. Others may have lost their faith because they have been hurt by or even excluded by churches and faith communities.

Regardless of the reason why someone either has ignored the gospel or has never had the gospel shared with them, we are different. We know the story of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. We know his teachings and his challenges. We are witness through our faith to his passion, death, resurrection and ascension. And we are each part of the continuing mission to reconcile all people to one another and to God.

The challenge is in sharing our faith, our beliefs, our part of Jesus' story with others. We don't want to appear foolish or obsessive, nor do we want to be thought naive or ignorant. We don't want to shove our faith down others' throats or be perceived as a biblical savant. But if we don't share the story, we are not living into our baptismal covenant with God. We promise to share in Christ's mission, to make disciples of all nations, to tell the story of Christ's redemption and our liberation from the pangs of sin and death.

Evangelism starts with ourselves - we need to know why we believe and to affirm that belief in action and word. Our message of faith starts with ourselves. Once we have proclaimed what we believe to ourselves, then we can have the strength to share that story with others. The lamp cannot remain under a bushel; the salt cannot be kept aside until it has lost its flavor. And our city, our Kingdom of God, must be seen by all so that all may share in our salvation offered once for all in Jesus Christ.

In the lyrics of Mary Thompson, penned in celebration of faith:

Publish glad tidings, tidings of peace;
Tidings of Jesus, redemption and release.

Peace in Christ,
Fr. Shawn
Lent II 2012

Lent 2012

Throughout the history of The Episcopal Church, our liturgies have included not only scripture readings appointed for various days, but also the option of including readings from Christian apologists, theologians and teachers from centuries of Christian thought. While these readings never replace the selections from the Old and New Testament in liturgical worship, they can be used as a basis for thought and reflection in our meditations and homilies.


As we begin the season of Lent, let us reflect on one such writer, Peter Chysologus. According to the Patron Saints Index, Peter was born in Imola, Italy near the end of the fourth century CE. Early in his ordained ministry, he was identified by Pope Sixtus III as an inspired and blessed person. He is known as “The Doctor of Homilies,:” famous for his short but inspired talks (legend has it he kept his sermons short because he always feared boring his audience!). The name Chrysologus means “golden words,” and few in history have said so much in such a small number of words. More than 170 of his sermons have been preserved. He died in 450, and July 30th is set as his feast day.

In Peter’s Sermon #43, he reflects on our Lenten disciplines. This is what Peter Chrysologus has to say to the Church, both in his time and in ours.

There are three things by which faith stands firm, devotion remains constant, and virtue endures. They are prayer, fasting, and mercy. Prayer knocks at the door, fasting obtains, mercy receives. Prayer, mercy and fasting: these three are one, and they give life to each other.


Fasting is the soul of prayer; mercy is the lifeblood of fasting. Let no one try to separate them; they cannot be separated. If you have only one of them or not all together, you have nothing. So if you pray, fast; if you fast, show mercy; if you want your petition to be heard, hear the petition of others. If you do not close your ear to others you open God’s ear to yourself.


When you fast, see the fasting of others. If you want God to know that you are hungry, know that another is hungry. If you hope for mercy, show mercy. If you look for kindness, show kindness. If you want to receive, give. If you ask for yourself what you deny to others, your asking is a mockery.


Let this be the pattern for all when they practice mercy: show mercy to others in the same way, with the same generosity, with the same promptness, as you want others to show mercy to you.


Therefore, let prayer, mercy and fasting be one single plea to God on our behalf, on speech in our defense, a threefold united prayer in our favor.


Let us use fasting to make up for what we have lost by despising others. Let us offer our souls in sacrifice by means of fasting. There is nothing more pleasing that we can offer to God , as the psalmist said in prophecy, “A sacrifice to God is a broken spirit; God does not despise a bruised and humbled heart.


Offer your soul to God, make him an oblation of your fasting, so that your soul may be a pure offering, a holy sacrifice, a living victim, remaining your own and at the same time made over to God. Whoever fails to give this to God will not be excused, for if you are to give him yourself you are never without the means of giving.


To make these acceptable, mercy must be added. Fasting bears no fruit unless it is watered by mercy. Fasting dries up when mercy dries up. Mercy is to fasting as rain is to the earth. However much you may cultivate your heart, clear the soil of your nature, root out vices, sow virtues. If you don not release the springs of mercy, your fasting will bear no fruit.


When you fast, if your mercy is thin, your harvest will be thin; when you fast, what you pour out in mercy overflows into your barn. Therefore, do not lose by saving, but gather in by scattering. Give to the poor and give to yourself. You will not be allowed to keep what you have refused to give to others.

Let us keep a holy Lent in prayer, fasting and mercy. Amen.