Good Book Club 2019--Romans 14:1-12

Some judge one day to be better than another, while others judge all days to be alike. Let all be fully convinced in their own minds. Those who observe the day, observe it in honor of the Lord. Also those who eat, eat in honor of the Lord, since they give thanks to God; while those who abstain, abstain in honor of the Lord and give thanks to God 

 (Rom 14:5-6 NRSV). 

A monstrance where a consecrated host
is placed for Eucharistic Adoration

I have always believed that one of the Episcopal Church's greatest strengths is its ability to hold a wide spectrum of beliefs and practices within a framework that proclaims Jesus as Lord. Because our tradition has unfolded over time through the influence of many theologians, preachers, mystics, divines, and worshipers from traditions and cultures across the globe, we have an eclectic and abundant set of traditions melded together. There is beauty in this model,and there also can be great tension as factions within the church try to defend their own position as more honorable or holy than the other.

One huge shift in our tradition, which in many ways realigned us more with the past, was the Oxford Movement of the 19th Century. To oversimplify this movement, the Anglican Church reclaimed many of the traditions of Roman Catholicism lost in the various English Reformations and applied them in ways that made sense to Anglicans. We see this again and again in our 1979 Book of Common Prayer, which adopts many practices out of this movement--perhaps most visibly, Holy Eucharist as the primary weekly service.

People worshiping in song and posture
with hands raised to the heavens

Looking only at ritual practices, we see a wide range of practices within our Episcopal Church, even when they use the same words from the prayer book. For example, one church might have incense, chanted prayers, a choral anthem in Latin, and lots of kneeling while another might have a praise band, spoken prayers, extemporaneous prayers of the people, hand-raising, and even praying in tongues. Both of these ends of the spectrum are permissible and, when done in the right spirit of holy worship, pleasing to God. I imagine, however, that every reader has a negative reaction to one or the other--if not both!

Why is this?

First of all, worship is and should be an incredibly emotional and personally transformative act. Each of us has sensory memories tied to our own places of worship as well as the way in which we were raised and the ways in which our faith has grown. Likewise, many of us bear scars of betrayal from church that may have harmed us and can have sensory memories of worship that link to those thoughts.

How do we know what it "right?" How does God want us to worship?

Here is where Paul becomes an incredible help to us.

First of all, if we read through the entire Pauline corpus, we find that Paul address different congregations differently and even has different guidelines for each one based upon their experience(s). Context matters! Just as it would be out of place for the worship in the barn at the camp where I worked for there to be fine vestments, incense, and a chanted Gospel, it would be equally out of place in the Church of the Advent in Boston for there to be a priest in cargo shorts and a stole singing along to teenagers jamming on guitars and drums. Within their context, however, both styles show forth true joy in their sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving and God is well pleased.

Secondly, Paul reminds us in today's reading from Romans that it is not as much what we do as it is why we do what we do. Both those who eat and those who abstain give honor and thanks to God. Those who practice Eucharistic Adoration--a practice this Protestant-leaning priest struggles with--give honor and thanks to God when they do so in a posture of praising God. Those who raise their hands to the skies and pray in tongues and interprets the tongues--a practice this Anglican priest struggles with--give honor and thanks to God when they do so in a posture of praising God.

What practices of the church resonate most with you? Which do not? Why? How might re-framing those practices with which you struggle as acts of praise and thanksgiving shape your understanding of those who practice them?

Good Book Club 2019--Romans 12:1-8

Whew! I will be the first to admit the difficulties of trudging through the last few chapters of Romans. There's much to glean from Paul's dense prose, and we also should have the humility to know that scholars for hundreds of years have struggled with Paul's words.

Today, however, we come to this brief passage which our guide has graciously given us two days to walk through. They are words so beautiful, that I feel justified in doing what every writing professor told me not to do and reproduce them here:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect (Rom 12:1-2 NRSV).

If you look to page 376 of the Book of Common Prayer, you will find that these words are an option for the priest to read as the offertory sentence (the sentence that invites the congregation into presenting their money, lives, and joy to God in the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving that is about to occur in the Holy Eucharist).

I could pick apart these words for hours, and I think they transition beautifully into Paul's next section on spiritual gifts.

My the mercies of God--Paul recognizes the importance of our bodies, our lives, and our spiritual worship. We cannot divorce our physical selves from our spiritual selves because God mercifully made us as both. When we give all that we have of ourselves to God, we are united fully to God and can join all the heavenly host in worshiping our creator.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed--Again, the created world in and of itself is not bad. It is God's creation. Humans, however, through disobedience and hardheartedness (review Romans 9-11) have turned to our own will rather than to God's will. When we align our will with God's, we are transformed and experience the creation as it was meant to be experienced.

That you may discern what is the will of God--This leads to our ultimate happiness and ultimate flourishing. Through this knowledge and conformity to the will of God, our spiritual gifts flourish. As we read in the next section, Romans 12:3-8, each of us has so much to offer the world, and the world is better--more the way God intended it--when each of us develop our gifts and share them with one another.

What gifts do you have?
What gifts do you see in others?
How might you join those gifts together for the betterment of the world?

Gramma Jean--February 2, 2019--Feast of the Presentation

On the day I was born, so goes the story in my family, my father was so nervous that he spent most of the time in the bathroom with diarrhea. My grandfather was pacing the waiting room, and my grandmother was upset. She thought she was too young to be a grandmother. She was a beautiful woman with youthful features, and she was adamantly opposed to being thought of as old in any way. She had already decided in her mind that this child-to-be would call her "Aunt Jean" and never "Grandma."

Then I came.

Gramma Jean told me five million times that the first second she saw me, she fell completely in love. She would stand at the window looking into the hospital nursery for so long that a nurse pulled the curtain in her face to try to get her to leave.

Since the very fist moment of my life, Gramma Jean and I were inseparable. She bought me clothes, took me to see a Russian ballet company perform The Nutcracker, taught me to play the piano, and showed me how to blow the paper off your straw across the restaurant. I had memorized her phone number before I memorized my own, and I knew how to call her to tell her what I did that day or if someone upset me or, most of all, to ask her if I could come stay with her and Pawpaw for the weekend. In all my life, I have never loved anyone more than I loved her, and no one has ever loved me as much as she did.

This morning, around 9am, my Gramma Jean died. She had been in very poor health for many years, and the nursing home where she lived was her own idea of hell. Her death came as something of a relief for both her and me, even though it has left an enormous hole in my heart.

I can remember when I was a little boy, I sat on the counter in front of the huge mirror and piles and piles of beauty products where Gramma Jean undertook her daily routine--of at least an hour--of applying her make-up and doing her hair. With every brush, bottle, or palate she picked up, I would ask, "What's that?" She would patiently explain every single step, and sometimes would even put a little on my face.

"Everyone looks better with a little make-up," she would say as she caked her face in the foundation she used every day.

I can still smell the sweetness of her powder and the pungent, spicy smell of Elizabeth Arden "Red Door."

Gramma Jean and Pawpaw c. 1960

My grandmother might be accused of being vain, but I don't think that was exactly the case. What Gramma Jean believed intensely was that appearances matter. She believed that you couldn't just roll out of bed and face the world. You had to prepare yourself. You had to make yourself into the best person you could be, and you had to put on your red lipstick and go into the world confidently even when you feel like you can't possibly go on.

Today, on the Feast of the Presentation, I am in México with a group of clergy and lay leaders from the Diocese of New York taking a two-week Spanish intensive. This morning, I knew what was coming, and I felt like crawling under my covers and hiding forever. Gramma Jean would have hated this. She would have told me to put on my brightest, reddest lipstick, spray my Red Door perfume, find some big, stylish sunglasses and a big floppy hat, and hit the road with a toothy grin on my face. I didn't wear any lipstick, perfume, or hat, but I did take a shower and go with my group to visit the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City.

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Presentation, and the words of Simeon are ringing loudly in my ears:

"Lord, you now have set your servant free *
   to go in peace as you have promised;

For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior, *
   whom you have prepared for all the world to see:

A Light to enlighten the nations, *
   and the glory of your people Israel" (Book of Common Prayer, 135).

Simeon had waited his whole life to see the messiah. He remembered the promise God had made to his people and how God had never abandoned them. He remembered that even in exile and even under Roman conquest, God kept God's promises and delivered God's people. Then, finally, he got to see God made man in the baby Jesus, brought to the Temple by his mother and father.

Gramma Jean c. 1960

In no way do I equate myself with Christ. However, I do believe there are some parallels here. Gramma Jean spent much of her life praying, playing the church organ, and studying Holy Scripture. When we cleared out her library, I found at least a half dozen Bibles, and every single one was covered in highlighter and notes in the margins. She studied the Holy Scriptures every single day, and they taught her that even when life feels unbearable, God never abandons us. God loves us and keeps us, and, for that reason, we can put on our red lipstick and heels and run into the world in faith. She also got to see me and my brother Michael grow into men shaped by the love she and my grandfather taught us. Even though she always had an aversion to growing old, I know that she died having seen the messiah in this world, and today she rests eternally in his arms.

I am deeply grieved, dear readers. My very best friend and the closest ally I have ever had has died, and my life can never be the same. The pain in my heart is almost unbearable. However--I still have hope. I still cling to faith. I know that Gramma Jean saw the savior and today sees the savior, and one day we all will dwell together in that land where there is neither suffering nor death.

I will head to bed after I write this, and I will get up early tomorrow to go to a church here in Cuernavaca, Morelos, México. I will feel like hiding under the covers, but I will put on my red lipstick and heels--or at least my alb and green stole--and I will walk into the world with my head held high. Gramma Jean taught me that. She taught me that God will never forsake me, and I know she will be walking alongside me the whole way.