This essay was originally written for the Sacramento News & Review
Several years ago, while serving as a priest in Sun Valley, Idaho, a young woman visited me. She was to be married and she wondered if I would officiate at an Episcopal wedding service that included Tibetan Buddhist prayers. I was a little skeptical. Not because I didn’t think Buddhist prayers should be said at a Christian wedding. Rather I wanted to make sure Pilar, the young woman, was serious about her Buddhist practice. In my community Tibetan Buddhism had an exotic mystique and I wanted to make sure the prayers would be said with integrity rather than simply added to be chic.
As it turned out, Pilar was a devout Tibetan Buddhist and was very intentional in her spiritual practice. I did officiate at her wedding and she and I became good friends. She taught me Yoga. We began meditating together and after we prayed, we would teach each other about our different religious traditions. We opened our conversations to the wider community. Because of my friendship with Pilar, I took my own spiritual disciplines more seriously. I became a better Christian because of my friendship with a Buddhist.
There were some aspects of Pilar’s faith, like emptiness and compassion, that connected readily with my own perspective. There were other aspects of her beliefs that will probably always feel foreign to me. It was not necessary for us to be the same (as in “all religions are basically the same”) in order for us to respect one another and to learn from one another.
Toward the end of my time in Sun Valley, I was asked to organize and facilitate a meeting between His Holiness the Dalai Lama and local religious leaders. It was one of the highlights of my ministry and a lovely culmination of my relationship with the Buddhists in Sun Valley.
When I arrived in Sacramento, one of the first people to see me was Lama Jinpa, the leader of the local Tibetan Buddhist community. Pilar had asked him to visit me. Lama Jinpa and I have met a few times and have discussed how we might be able to work together. Because of this new friendship, Trinity Cathedral has been invited to host two Tibetan monks who are coming to build a sand mandala in early December.
I think it is important that the mandala will be created in a Christian church. In our world with so much conflict and division, religious groups should model hospitality and inclusion. Not only is this an opportunity for hospitality, it is a chance for mutual enrichment. The mandala will depict the Medicine (or healing) Buddha. At Trinity Cathedral, we take praying for healing seriously. We have people at every Sunday service that pray for those who need special prayers. These prayers take place in the same part of the Cathedral where the Medicine Buddha mandala will be. The mandala , which is a kind of icon, will be placed next to a beautiful icon of the Trinity at the Cathedral. These are just a couple of obvious connections. Others will become manifest as we spend time together.
The mandala will be open to the public and it is my hope that many people will come to visit the Buddhist monks as they create their beautiful and deeply spiritual artwork.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
first cousins, once removed
John came like Elijah through the wilderness, calling the people to turn away from falsehood, to turn back to their true allegiance, to Almighty God. He called them to repent: to start clean, to be washed in the waters of the Jordan as their spiritual forefathers had when first they walked into the land of the promise.
He called them. He was a “voice crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” He was the herald, the fore-runner: coming before, bearing glad tidings. The message he brought, to prepare the way of the Lord, is a message of impending – JOY.
And his joy is to be made complete in the coming of the Christ. “Are you the one we have been waiting for?” he asks Jesus; and the answer is YES! Look around you: see what is going on, what is happening. It is just beginning, but it is beginning to break through: the kingdom of heaven is at hand!
We look ahead this Sunday from the midst of Advent’s expectation to its fulfillment in the joy of Christmas. We light the pink candle. Today is “Gaudete Sunday”; “guadete” means REJOICE! Rejoice in the coming of the Savior. In the words of the 14th Century hymn:
Rejoice! Rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary: rejoice!
The time of grace has come for which we have prayed; let us devoutly sing songs of joy.
God is made man while nature wonders; the world is renewed by Christ the King.
Therefore let our assembly sing praises now; at this time of preparation, let it bless the Lord. Greetings to our King!
Rejoice! Rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary: rejoice!
And so we have a messenger who calls on us to prepare the way, to make room in our hearts and in our lives for the coming of the true King.
Let me read you a story. It is a story of some people, a boy and two girls, and some animals – beavers – who are traveling through a winter-bitten frozen landscape, running from the evil witch who has cast a spell on the land, where now it is “always winter and never Christmas!”
They run, and they hide, and they spend the night in a lonely cave, and even in their dreams they are pursued by the White Witch in her sledge drawn by tiny reindeer the color of snow.
They wake, and they do hear the bells of a sleigh. Mr. Beaver goes out to investigate. The children, and Mrs. Beaver, hear voices. They are alarmed. Is it the White Witch? Then comes Mr. Beaver’s reassuring voice:
[The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, by C. S. Lewis, chapter 10]
And so you see Santa Claus came to Narnia. And he brought presents: TOOLS NOT TOYS – to equip the humans for the tasks ahead.
John the Baptist, as he called on people to prepare the way, provided a gift of a different sort: a clearing out, a ‘re-set’, and a readiness to start over and start fresh. Then the gifts become real. They become necessary – as the Savior comes.
Jesus, when he approached, began with the working of healing: the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, and this last: the poor are gladdened. They are glad because the Kingdom is coming, the reign of God on earth when all will be put to rights.
If you know your Narnia you know this is Aslan’s job: to overthrow the false reign of the White Witch, to set everything to rights, to release captives, to warm the frozen, to restore the lost, and to protect the innocent.
This is indeed the Day of the Lord that John proclaimed.
Son of Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, John grew up as one set apart, with a duty to perform. He was the one to prepare the way: and to herald the coming of the Messiah.
And this is what Mary was expecting Jesus to do: in her magnificent song of expectation and of triumph, she proclaims the greatness of God, who looks with favor on his lowly servant, and who brings to her and through her – in the bearing of the Christ Child – the time of grace for which we have prayed.
Therefore let our assembly sing praises now at this time of preparation; let us bless the Lord: Greetings to our King!
Rejoice! Rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary; rejoice!
______________
C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (Macmillan, 1950) Chapter Ten: The Spell Begins to Break.
The Shorter New Oxford Book of Carols, edited by Hugh Keyte and Andrew Parrott (Oxford University Press, 1993), Carol 24, Gaudete!
David Adam, Clouds and Glory (SPCK, 2001) 3rd Sunday of Advent.
Isaiah 35:1-10, James 5:7-10, Matthew 11:2-11, Canticle 15
He called them. He was a “voice crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” He was the herald, the fore-runner: coming before, bearing glad tidings. The message he brought, to prepare the way of the Lord, is a message of impending – JOY.
And his joy is to be made complete in the coming of the Christ. “Are you the one we have been waiting for?” he asks Jesus; and the answer is YES! Look around you: see what is going on, what is happening. It is just beginning, but it is beginning to break through: the kingdom of heaven is at hand!
We look ahead this Sunday from the midst of Advent’s expectation to its fulfillment in the joy of Christmas. We light the pink candle. Today is “Gaudete Sunday”; “guadete” means REJOICE! Rejoice in the coming of the Savior. In the words of the 14th Century hymn:
Rejoice! Rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary: rejoice!
The time of grace has come for which we have prayed; let us devoutly sing songs of joy.
God is made man while nature wonders; the world is renewed by Christ the King.
Therefore let our assembly sing praises now; at this time of preparation, let it bless the Lord. Greetings to our King!
Rejoice! Rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary: rejoice!
And so we have a messenger who calls on us to prepare the way, to make room in our hearts and in our lives for the coming of the true King.
Let me read you a story. It is a story of some people, a boy and two girls, and some animals – beavers – who are traveling through a winter-bitten frozen landscape, running from the evil witch who has cast a spell on the land, where now it is “always winter and never Christmas!”
They run, and they hide, and they spend the night in a lonely cave, and even in their dreams they are pursued by the White Witch in her sledge drawn by tiny reindeer the color of snow.
They wake, and they do hear the bells of a sleigh. Mr. Beaver goes out to investigate. The children, and Mrs. Beaver, hear voices. They are alarmed. Is it the White Witch? Then comes Mr. Beaver’s reassuring voice:
[The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, by C. S. Lewis, chapter 10]
And so you see Santa Claus came to Narnia. And he brought presents: TOOLS NOT TOYS – to equip the humans for the tasks ahead.
John the Baptist, as he called on people to prepare the way, provided a gift of a different sort: a clearing out, a ‘re-set’, and a readiness to start over and start fresh. Then the gifts become real. They become necessary – as the Savior comes.
Jesus, when he approached, began with the working of healing: the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, and this last: the poor are gladdened. They are glad because the Kingdom is coming, the reign of God on earth when all will be put to rights.
If you know your Narnia you know this is Aslan’s job: to overthrow the false reign of the White Witch, to set everything to rights, to release captives, to warm the frozen, to restore the lost, and to protect the innocent.
This is indeed the Day of the Lord that John proclaimed.
Son of Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, John grew up as one set apart, with a duty to perform. He was the one to prepare the way: and to herald the coming of the Messiah.
And this is what Mary was expecting Jesus to do: in her magnificent song of expectation and of triumph, she proclaims the greatness of God, who looks with favor on his lowly servant, and who brings to her and through her – in the bearing of the Christ Child – the time of grace for which we have prayed.
Therefore let our assembly sing praises now at this time of preparation; let us bless the Lord: Greetings to our King!
Rejoice! Rejoice! Christ is born of the Virgin Mary; rejoice!
______________
C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (Macmillan, 1950) Chapter Ten: The Spell Begins to Break.
The Shorter New Oxford Book of Carols, edited by Hugh Keyte and Andrew Parrott (Oxford University Press, 1993), Carol 24, Gaudete!
David Adam, Clouds and Glory (SPCK, 2001) 3rd Sunday of Advent.
Isaiah 35:1-10, James 5:7-10, Matthew 11:2-11, Canticle 15
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Pilate slept in
Pilate slept in. Pontius Pilate had made a late night of it – in fact, he had turned in not long before dawn. He had washed his hands of the latest “Messiah” in the early hours of last Friday, called it good, and walked away. The nights since had been full, full of celebration – of a kind: reveling and drunkenness, debauchery and licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy, all the fleshly indulgence the apostle Paul so well describes. He was a creature of this night: the night at the end of the week. Pilate slept in.
It was early on the first day of the week, and it was still dark.
Across town, though, things were beginning to stir. Just quietly, a few women (Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James, Joanna, Salome, perhaps a few others) gathered together ointments and spices and made their way out of their houses and down through the pre-dawn streets, to pay their last respects to their friend, do their last duty to their master. And so they made their way to the tomb of Jesus son of Mary, Jesus of Nazareth. They thought they knew what they would find there.
It was dawn minus thirty. Day was coming; dawn was soon to break.
Imagine a desert landscape half an hour before dawn. A star glimmers in the east. As you move out into the open you see the moon, almost full, in the west, illumining the landscape – nearby trees, houses, hills, and the mountains beyond. The star in the east has a companion, a lesser satellite, still shining with brightness from the night before. There is a rustle here and there of night sounds. A campfire flickers: it can be rekindled.
The night is far along now, and the day is about to dawn.
We are waiting: you and I, together. We are waiting for the new dawn, the day of the Lord, the day when righteousness and peace will embrace, when swords will be beaten into plowshares and never will nation learn war anymore. We wait for the day when the poor are justified, and receive their due; when the widow and the orphan are protected.
And we are moving: we are not waiting passively, but actively, expectantly, we begin to move into this new day. Because something happened that morning as Pilate slept in; something that Salome and Mary and Joanna did not expect to happen. When they got to the tomb they found not the beginning of eternal night but the rising of a new day, the day of the Lord, just beginning, the day breaking into night’s dominion, bringing peace.
They ran to bring the news of this new day to all the disciples so that they could begin living in it, living into it, living it, as soon as possibly joy could allow.
And so we too are moving, running walking climbing, making our way into the world to let it know that Jesus is alive: the King has come home, the true King, the Messiah indeed, at last, is coming to his own – and his own shall know him and be set free.
He comes to us, this unexpected Jesus, in a form unsuspected: where we look for a king, a royal birth, we find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Where we look for a warrior we find a man of peace. Where we look for a master we find one who empties his self of all majesty and serves. Where we look for an answer, a question:
How are we to live in this new day, the day of the Lord? How are we to announce it?
Every year it comes back around to us, at the top of the year, as we face both backwards into the past – the Nativity of our Lord– and forwards into the future – the Return of the King; and yet at this present moment, when we stand on the precipice of time, we live in the moment of freedom: to find ourselves and define ourselves anew, as people of the passing night or as the people of God, Christ’s children, the Church.
How are we to live at this moment? Whiling away the waning hours of night? Or shall we begin, even now, in this moment, to live as children of the day?
To live as children of the day is to begin to live into God’s kingdom – to take the values Jesus has taught us and without waiting for a big sign in the sky – like the one that says, “Welcome to Las Vegas!” – to say, “Eternal life starts here”, to begin to live that way. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!
We cannot be again what we once were, but we can become what we should be, can be, and are called to be. We cannot recapture lost time, but we can stay focused, keep together, and move forward in the name of Christ, into the redeeming of time: future, present, past – all are made new and whole in the light of Christ.
The ways of the Lord are so precious and true, so giving of life, that Isaiah predicts all nations will come seeking instruction, to learn to walk in the ways of God, and to be shown his pathways. God through the Holy Spirit – and through the Body of Christ – teaches us the way. It is a way that leads to justice, that finds peace, that sees an end to the strife between people and nations – a time so confident of its fruitfulness that the tools of war are no longer needed and can be turned into the tools of productive abundance.
We are his hands and his feet in the world, his voice and his ears, and we are gathered here in this place in this time to embody to the world his message of peace. As we bear forth his message – even in the absurd and timeless form of a baby – we bring the greatest force to bear that the world has ever known: and that force is the love of God.
Irresistible, it moves mountains; immemorial, it lasts forever; inconceivable, it is real… the most real thing of all.
This is the season of advent, of new beginnings, for you, for me, for all of us who live in this world – a new hope is dawning as surely as the light is rising in the East, beyond the mountains, unseen, but closer every moment.
We experience that new hope in our own lives, even in the midst of sorrow. Where Pilate would find only the end of night, the women of Jesus found a new dawn. Where the world runs out its string, there faith begins to take hold. Jesus is with us, even in the darkest hour, just before dawn. And he is our light.
And if we are transparent enough, the light of the love of the Lord shines through us, a beacon for others, beckoning them to join us in this new day.
O come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.
JRL+
The First Sunday of Advent: December 2, 2007
The Church of Saint Alban, Edmonds, Washington.
God, who ever comes to you, draw you to his love, draw you to his light, draw you to himself; and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be among you and remain with you always. Amen.
(David Adam, Clouds of Glory, Year A, Advent 1)
Isaiah 2:1-5, Psalm 122/Canticle 15, Romans 13:11-14, Matthew 24:36-44
It was early on the first day of the week, and it was still dark.
Across town, though, things were beginning to stir. Just quietly, a few women (Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James, Joanna, Salome, perhaps a few others) gathered together ointments and spices and made their way out of their houses and down through the pre-dawn streets, to pay their last respects to their friend, do their last duty to their master. And so they made their way to the tomb of Jesus son of Mary, Jesus of Nazareth. They thought they knew what they would find there.
It was dawn minus thirty. Day was coming; dawn was soon to break.
Imagine a desert landscape half an hour before dawn. A star glimmers in the east. As you move out into the open you see the moon, almost full, in the west, illumining the landscape – nearby trees, houses, hills, and the mountains beyond. The star in the east has a companion, a lesser satellite, still shining with brightness from the night before. There is a rustle here and there of night sounds. A campfire flickers: it can be rekindled.
The night is far along now, and the day is about to dawn.
We are waiting: you and I, together. We are waiting for the new dawn, the day of the Lord, the day when righteousness and peace will embrace, when swords will be beaten into plowshares and never will nation learn war anymore. We wait for the day when the poor are justified, and receive their due; when the widow and the orphan are protected.
And we are moving: we are not waiting passively, but actively, expectantly, we begin to move into this new day. Because something happened that morning as Pilate slept in; something that Salome and Mary and Joanna did not expect to happen. When they got to the tomb they found not the beginning of eternal night but the rising of a new day, the day of the Lord, just beginning, the day breaking into night’s dominion, bringing peace.
They ran to bring the news of this new day to all the disciples so that they could begin living in it, living into it, living it, as soon as possibly joy could allow.
And so we too are moving, running walking climbing, making our way into the world to let it know that Jesus is alive: the King has come home, the true King, the Messiah indeed, at last, is coming to his own – and his own shall know him and be set free.
He comes to us, this unexpected Jesus, in a form unsuspected: where we look for a king, a royal birth, we find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. Where we look for a warrior we find a man of peace. Where we look for a master we find one who empties his self of all majesty and serves. Where we look for an answer, a question:
How are we to live in this new day, the day of the Lord? How are we to announce it?
Every year it comes back around to us, at the top of the year, as we face both backwards into the past – the Nativity of our Lord– and forwards into the future – the Return of the King; and yet at this present moment, when we stand on the precipice of time, we live in the moment of freedom: to find ourselves and define ourselves anew, as people of the passing night or as the people of God, Christ’s children, the Church.
How are we to live at this moment? Whiling away the waning hours of night? Or shall we begin, even now, in this moment, to live as children of the day?
To live as children of the day is to begin to live into God’s kingdom – to take the values Jesus has taught us and without waiting for a big sign in the sky – like the one that says, “Welcome to Las Vegas!” – to say, “Eternal life starts here”, to begin to live that way. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!
We cannot be again what we once were, but we can become what we should be, can be, and are called to be. We cannot recapture lost time, but we can stay focused, keep together, and move forward in the name of Christ, into the redeeming of time: future, present, past – all are made new and whole in the light of Christ.
The ways of the Lord are so precious and true, so giving of life, that Isaiah predicts all nations will come seeking instruction, to learn to walk in the ways of God, and to be shown his pathways. God through the Holy Spirit – and through the Body of Christ – teaches us the way. It is a way that leads to justice, that finds peace, that sees an end to the strife between people and nations – a time so confident of its fruitfulness that the tools of war are no longer needed and can be turned into the tools of productive abundance.
We are his hands and his feet in the world, his voice and his ears, and we are gathered here in this place in this time to embody to the world his message of peace. As we bear forth his message – even in the absurd and timeless form of a baby – we bring the greatest force to bear that the world has ever known: and that force is the love of God.
Irresistible, it moves mountains; immemorial, it lasts forever; inconceivable, it is real… the most real thing of all.
This is the season of advent, of new beginnings, for you, for me, for all of us who live in this world – a new hope is dawning as surely as the light is rising in the East, beyond the mountains, unseen, but closer every moment.
We experience that new hope in our own lives, even in the midst of sorrow. Where Pilate would find only the end of night, the women of Jesus found a new dawn. Where the world runs out its string, there faith begins to take hold. Jesus is with us, even in the darkest hour, just before dawn. And he is our light.
And if we are transparent enough, the light of the love of the Lord shines through us, a beacon for others, beckoning them to join us in this new day.
O come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.
JRL+
The First Sunday of Advent: December 2, 2007
The Church of Saint Alban, Edmonds, Washington.
God, who ever comes to you, draw you to his love, draw you to his light, draw you to himself; and the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be among you and remain with you always. Amen.
(David Adam, Clouds of Glory, Year A, Advent 1)
Isaiah 2:1-5, Psalm 122/Canticle 15, Romans 13:11-14, Matthew 24:36-44
Monday, November 12, 2007
Spiritual but Not Religious?
This essay was originally written for the Sacramento News and Review
It’s an odd thing being a priest. It’s pretty much a cocktail-party-conversation killer.
“So what do you do?”
“Well, I’m an Episcopal priest.”
Long pause. Then the inevitable, “I used to go to church but . . .”
I think that’s so strange. When I’m introduced to a dentist, I don’t have the urge to confess my poor flossing habits.
Besides, I think there are great reasons for not going to church. Most notably, many Christians have done such a poor job representing Jesus. Jesus’ life and teachings were intended to give us life, to connect us with God, one another and our true selves, to free us from fear, free us from judging one another and free us from oppressive social structures (including religious structures.) One could argue that Jesus came to do away with religion, insofar as religions are organizations that treat God’s love as a commodity that is controlled by the religion.
On the other hand, “religions” are necessary for two reasons. First, spirituality needs community. We need to explore our beliefs with other people. Unless one has reached enlightenment, one needs the wisdom of others. We also need others with whom to strive for justice and peace, and others to love. In church, I’m required to love a wide variety of people, some of whom drive me crazy. It’s like spiritual boot camp.
Second, humanity needs the teachings of the great spiritual traditions to be passed on. We need communities of people to record these teachings and to teach them to later generations. The Bible, the Koran, the Buddhist Sutras are religious texts. We would not know about Mohammed, Jesus or the Buddha if it wasn’t for religions.
Religions are simply communities of spiritual people who want to journey and serve together.
Yes, some religious groups are homogeneous clubs who believe they have a corner on Truth or God’s love. And yes, I think people are wise to not be “religious” in that sense.
But beware of limiting your spiritual options because of these bad examples of spiritual community.
I believe people are hungry for authentic community. People are hungry for a way to encounter
God and deepen their spiritual lives. And people are hungry for a way to make a difference in the world. I know there are many different ways to feed these hungers. For me, these deep spiritual hungers are fed by being a part of a spiritual community that has Jesus as its guide. Trinity Cathedral is a welcoming community where people are passionate about their spiritual lives and serving others. If you are interested in encountering the teachings of Jesus in such a community, please join us. If you want more information, email me. I would love to hear from you. Or if you have a different path, I would enjoy hearing about it. Blessings!
Between December 6th and 9th, Tibetan Buddhist monks will be at Trinity Cathedral to create a sand mandala of the medicine (healing) Buddha. The Cathedral will be open to see the work in progress on Thursday and Friday from noon to 8 p.m. and Saturday from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. The monks will do a medicine Buddha healing ceremony Saturday night at 7 p.m. The monks will participate in our Sunday morning services at 9:00 and 11:15. The Dissolution Ceremony will be Sunday at 1 p.m. where the sand will be swept into a big pile and then placed in little bags that will be available for people to take.
It’s an odd thing being a priest. It’s pretty much a cocktail-party-conversation killer.
“So what do you do?”
“Well, I’m an Episcopal priest.”
Long pause. Then the inevitable, “I used to go to church but . . .”
I think that’s so strange. When I’m introduced to a dentist, I don’t have the urge to confess my poor flossing habits.
Besides, I think there are great reasons for not going to church. Most notably, many Christians have done such a poor job representing Jesus. Jesus’ life and teachings were intended to give us life, to connect us with God, one another and our true selves, to free us from fear, free us from judging one another and free us from oppressive social structures (including religious structures.) One could argue that Jesus came to do away with religion, insofar as religions are organizations that treat God’s love as a commodity that is controlled by the religion.
On the other hand, “religions” are necessary for two reasons. First, spirituality needs community. We need to explore our beliefs with other people. Unless one has reached enlightenment, one needs the wisdom of others. We also need others with whom to strive for justice and peace, and others to love. In church, I’m required to love a wide variety of people, some of whom drive me crazy. It’s like spiritual boot camp.
Second, humanity needs the teachings of the great spiritual traditions to be passed on. We need communities of people to record these teachings and to teach them to later generations. The Bible, the Koran, the Buddhist Sutras are religious texts. We would not know about Mohammed, Jesus or the Buddha if it wasn’t for religions.
Religions are simply communities of spiritual people who want to journey and serve together.
Yes, some religious groups are homogeneous clubs who believe they have a corner on Truth or God’s love. And yes, I think people are wise to not be “religious” in that sense.
But beware of limiting your spiritual options because of these bad examples of spiritual community.
I believe people are hungry for authentic community. People are hungry for a way to encounter
God and deepen their spiritual lives. And people are hungry for a way to make a difference in the world. I know there are many different ways to feed these hungers. For me, these deep spiritual hungers are fed by being a part of a spiritual community that has Jesus as its guide. Trinity Cathedral is a welcoming community where people are passionate about their spiritual lives and serving others. If you are interested in encountering the teachings of Jesus in such a community, please join us. If you want more information, email me. I would love to hear from you. Or if you have a different path, I would enjoy hearing about it. Blessings!
Between December 6th and 9th, Tibetan Buddhist monks will be at Trinity Cathedral to create a sand mandala of the medicine (healing) Buddha. The Cathedral will be open to see the work in progress on Thursday and Friday from noon to 8 p.m. and Saturday from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. The monks will do a medicine Buddha healing ceremony Saturday night at 7 p.m. The monks will participate in our Sunday morning services at 9:00 and 11:15. The Dissolution Ceremony will be Sunday at 1 p.m. where the sand will be swept into a big pile and then placed in little bags that will be available for people to take.
on prayer
This essay was originally written for the Sacramento News and Review
I first learned to pray when I was 11 years old. My nonreligious, Air Force colonel father came home one day and declared that the family needed to learn to meditate. The six of us piled into the family car and drove to the Transcendental Meditation center in nearby Amherst, Massachusetts. (This was in the early 70’s.) Each member of the family received private instruction and was given a mantra. For the following two years, meditation was part of our family routine. Before dinner Mom would remind us, “Have you meditated yet?” If we hadn’t, we would trot down to the basement and sit in silence for the prescribed 20 minutes.
While the practice didn’t last longer than the two years we lived in Massachusetts, it did open a quiet place in my soul. Years later, when I entered seminary to become an Episcopal priest, I became very grateful for the gift of meditation. Seminary was hard for me. My undergraduate work at West Point focused on engineering mechanics and computer science. I then spent 5 years in the left-brained world of the Army. In seminary I was completely out of my element. My classmates had all majored in philosophy and religion. I remember trying to read a theology text and having to look up every third word in a dictionary.
Then one day, at noonday prayers, I came across this prayer: O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. (Isaiah 26.3 30.15) I wrote the words on a post-it and stuck it on my mirror. I returned to my practice of sitting in silence. I regained my center as I listened to the still, small voice of God.
While I have never been consistent in my spiritual disciplines, prayer has been an important part of my spiritual life. Prayer for me is much more than sharing my concerns with God. Prayer is a way of shaping the way I see the world—of being open to the way God sees the world. In addition to silent prayer, one of my favorite ways of praying is to recite words written by other, more spiritually mature people. In the Episcopal Church, much of our worship consists of reciting, as a community, beautiful enlightening prayers.
One of my favorite prayers comes from a nighttime service. Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.
I have this prayer memorized and recite it as I am going to sleep. It helps me realize my deep connection with those who “work, or watch, or weep this night.” Prayer invites me into a world that is bigger and more whole than my day-to-day existence.
I’m sure I thought my father was crazy back in 1973. But he introduced me to a priceless gift. Let us pray.
I first learned to pray when I was 11 years old. My nonreligious, Air Force colonel father came home one day and declared that the family needed to learn to meditate. The six of us piled into the family car and drove to the Transcendental Meditation center in nearby Amherst, Massachusetts. (This was in the early 70’s.) Each member of the family received private instruction and was given a mantra. For the following two years, meditation was part of our family routine. Before dinner Mom would remind us, “Have you meditated yet?” If we hadn’t, we would trot down to the basement and sit in silence for the prescribed 20 minutes.
While the practice didn’t last longer than the two years we lived in Massachusetts, it did open a quiet place in my soul. Years later, when I entered seminary to become an Episcopal priest, I became very grateful for the gift of meditation. Seminary was hard for me. My undergraduate work at West Point focused on engineering mechanics and computer science. I then spent 5 years in the left-brained world of the Army. In seminary I was completely out of my element. My classmates had all majored in philosophy and religion. I remember trying to read a theology text and having to look up every third word in a dictionary.
Then one day, at noonday prayers, I came across this prayer: O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength. (Isaiah 26.3 30.15) I wrote the words on a post-it and stuck it on my mirror. I returned to my practice of sitting in silence. I regained my center as I listened to the still, small voice of God.
While I have never been consistent in my spiritual disciplines, prayer has been an important part of my spiritual life. Prayer for me is much more than sharing my concerns with God. Prayer is a way of shaping the way I see the world—of being open to the way God sees the world. In addition to silent prayer, one of my favorite ways of praying is to recite words written by other, more spiritually mature people. In the Episcopal Church, much of our worship consists of reciting, as a community, beautiful enlightening prayers.
One of my favorite prayers comes from a nighttime service. Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.
I have this prayer memorized and recite it as I am going to sleep. It helps me realize my deep connection with those who “work, or watch, or weep this night.” Prayer invites me into a world that is bigger and more whole than my day-to-day existence.
I’m sure I thought my father was crazy back in 1973. But he introduced me to a priceless gift. Let us pray.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
for all the saints
All Saints 2007
One of the great joys and benefits of observing the holidays of the days of the dead is our gratefulness for our connection with them through the communion of saints, which is for the glory of God. We anticipate All Saints Day on All Hallows Eve – the eve of All Saints – and continue our worship November 1st in the feast of All Souls, or All Faithful Departed – a memorial day for remembering those who have gone before us in obtaining “those ineffable joys” spoken of in the Collect. I like to say, “It is always tea-time somewhere in the Anglican Communion” – that our bonds of affection and common heritage include this enjoyment, and that somewhere in the world someone is praying for me as I pray for you and for them.
And yet this fellowship extends beyond space into time – the saints of ages past share our hope for things to come. And we share in their hope, in their love, through our fellowship with Christ, in Christ, memorialized and brought to present life in the sacraments – the body and blood of Christ – the head of whose body we make up the members – and through and with him be all honor and glory to God, including that fellowship which is his joy – the church which is his body – the fullness (fulfillment) – of him who fills all in all.
This all boils down however to some practical behavior, most succinctly and most famously stated in the Golden Rule, the last sentence of today’s gospel reading: Do as you would be done by.
Imagine yourself a buckaroo from Paradise – that is, a cowboy from the Paradise Valley in Nevada. You raise mules. You have a day job: construction work on the interstate, building bypasses around Elko, Battle Mountain, and Winnemucca. You are on the way to work – you have about 80 miles to go. It is Sunday, late afternoon, the sun is setting slowly over the sage, and you are headed up a mountain pass about 8 miles west of Carlin.
On the side of the road, hood up, is an old car – a 1964 Pontiac Tempest. You stop. The young people inside think they have a mechanical problem. You have a simpler explanation and with a siphon hose prove it. “Yep, bone dry.” They are out of gas.
You drive them back to Carlin, make sure they get some gas, follow them to the next town, Battle Mountain, to make sure they are okay. As you leave, you give your parting benediction: “Make sure to stop and gas her up once in a while.”
To them you are an angel – a messenger of God – or someone who has followed the Golden Rule. Who wouldn’t want to be treated the way you have just treated them?
I was not the cowboy. But I was there. And I am sure glad he stopped.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
It sounds so simple – and sometimes it is.
In practice this is carried out in as many ways as the engineer’s dictum Murphy’s Law – if it can go wrong it will – is manifested in the real world. As there are many examples and applications of Murphy’s Law, so there are many of the Golden Rule.
Here is one example. For pastors and their congregations, there are issues of communication, straightforwardness and honor of each other, which come into play.
When I spoke to Greg Rickel, bishop of Olympia, four weeks ago, I asked him if I could use the 10 Rules for Respect in communication he'd introduced at his parish as rector - and he readily gave his permission.
Before I share them with you, though, a disclosure – in the form of a story.
Donald Nicholl, the English Catholic layman who taught me so much at UCSC, loved to tell the story of Gandhi and the little girl. Her mother brought her to the great man complaining of her addiction to sweet foods, and asking Gandhi to do something about it. Gandhi told her to come back in two weeks.
When she did, he took the little girl aside and in a few simple words told her how to break the habit. The mother asked, why did you not tell her this two weeks ago? Because, madam, two weeks ago I was still addicted to sweet foods myself!
In other words practicing the Golden Rule takes – practice!
So with some trepidation... here are the 10 Rules for Respect in communication between a congregation and its pastor:
10 Rules for Respect
1. If you have a problem with me, come to me (privately).
2. If I have a problem with you, I will come to you (privately).
3. If someone has a problem with me and comes to you, send them to me. (I’ll do the same for you.)
4. If someone consistently will not come to me, say to them, “Let’s go to him together. I am sure he will see us about this.” (I will do the same for you.)
5. Be careful how you interpret me – I’d rather do that. On matters that are unclear, do not feel pressured to interpret my feelings or thoughts. It is easy to misinterpret intentions.
6. I will be careful how I interpret you.
7. If it’s confidential, don’t tell. This especially applies to Vestry meetings. If you or anyone comes to me in confidence, I won’t tell unless a) the person is going to harm himself/herself, b) the person is going to physically harm someone else, c) a child has been physically or sexually abused. I expect the same from you.
8. I do not read unsigned letters or notes.
9. I do not manipulate; I will not be manipulated; do not let others *manipulate you. Do not let others manipulate me through you. I will not preach “at” you on Sunday mornings. I will leave conviction to the Holy Spirit. (She does it better anyway!)
10. When in doubt, just say it. The only dumb questions are those that don’t get asked. We are a family here and we care about each other, so if you have a concern, pray, and then (if led) speak up. If I can answer it without misrepresenting something, someone, or breaking a confidence, I will.
*******
This is one example of how we are to put into effect the golden rule, not only to refrain from doing to others what we would not want others to do to us, but positively to treat others as we want to be treated ourselves.
The gospel lesson contains some paradoxical sayings. Jesus seems to be turning worldly wisdom on its head – give to whoever asks of you, invite beggars to your banquets, go the extra mile – and in some ways I think he is suggesting this as a revolutionary, non-violent protest action. The people of Palestine were, after all, deeply oppressed, and violent protest would lead, as it did, to disaster and destruction. What Israel held most precious, the Temple in Jerusalem, was torn down stone by stone.
Our own pretences of worldly wisdom, canniness and morality, are confounded by Jesus’ sayings – and by the reality of the in-breaking kingdom of God. Jesus is not after all selling us a bill of goods, pie in the sky, nor is he trying to get us killed – though living his way can lead to the cross. What he is doing is trying to get us to live into the kingdom, to begin to conduct ourselves as citizens of the city of God.
It looks topsy-turvy, through the eyes of the world. With the eyes of the heart opened, it is a glimpse of paradise.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
Bishop Gregory Rickel’s biography and answers to search committee essay questions, Diocese of Olympia (http://www.ecww.org/inthenews/rickel.pdf)
Donald Nicholl, Holiness (Seabury, 1981)
C All Saints RCL
The Lessons Appointed for Use on All Saints' Day - Year C - RCL
Daniel 7:1-3,15-18
Psalm 149
Ephesians 1:11-23
Luke 6:20-31
The Collect
Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
One of the great joys and benefits of observing the holidays of the days of the dead is our gratefulness for our connection with them through the communion of saints, which is for the glory of God. We anticipate All Saints Day on All Hallows Eve – the eve of All Saints – and continue our worship November 1st in the feast of All Souls, or All Faithful Departed – a memorial day for remembering those who have gone before us in obtaining “those ineffable joys” spoken of in the Collect. I like to say, “It is always tea-time somewhere in the Anglican Communion” – that our bonds of affection and common heritage include this enjoyment, and that somewhere in the world someone is praying for me as I pray for you and for them.
And yet this fellowship extends beyond space into time – the saints of ages past share our hope for things to come. And we share in their hope, in their love, through our fellowship with Christ, in Christ, memorialized and brought to present life in the sacraments – the body and blood of Christ – the head of whose body we make up the members – and through and with him be all honor and glory to God, including that fellowship which is his joy – the church which is his body – the fullness (fulfillment) – of him who fills all in all.
This all boils down however to some practical behavior, most succinctly and most famously stated in the Golden Rule, the last sentence of today’s gospel reading: Do as you would be done by.
Imagine yourself a buckaroo from Paradise – that is, a cowboy from the Paradise Valley in Nevada. You raise mules. You have a day job: construction work on the interstate, building bypasses around Elko, Battle Mountain, and Winnemucca. You are on the way to work – you have about 80 miles to go. It is Sunday, late afternoon, the sun is setting slowly over the sage, and you are headed up a mountain pass about 8 miles west of Carlin.
On the side of the road, hood up, is an old car – a 1964 Pontiac Tempest. You stop. The young people inside think they have a mechanical problem. You have a simpler explanation and with a siphon hose prove it. “Yep, bone dry.” They are out of gas.
You drive them back to Carlin, make sure they get some gas, follow them to the next town, Battle Mountain, to make sure they are okay. As you leave, you give your parting benediction: “Make sure to stop and gas her up once in a while.”
To them you are an angel – a messenger of God – or someone who has followed the Golden Rule. Who wouldn’t want to be treated the way you have just treated them?
I was not the cowboy. But I was there. And I am sure glad he stopped.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
It sounds so simple – and sometimes it is.
In practice this is carried out in as many ways as the engineer’s dictum Murphy’s Law – if it can go wrong it will – is manifested in the real world. As there are many examples and applications of Murphy’s Law, so there are many of the Golden Rule.
Here is one example. For pastors and their congregations, there are issues of communication, straightforwardness and honor of each other, which come into play.
When I spoke to Greg Rickel, bishop of Olympia, four weeks ago, I asked him if I could use the 10 Rules for Respect in communication he'd introduced at his parish as rector - and he readily gave his permission.
Before I share them with you, though, a disclosure – in the form of a story.
Donald Nicholl, the English Catholic layman who taught me so much at UCSC, loved to tell the story of Gandhi and the little girl. Her mother brought her to the great man complaining of her addiction to sweet foods, and asking Gandhi to do something about it. Gandhi told her to come back in two weeks.
When she did, he took the little girl aside and in a few simple words told her how to break the habit. The mother asked, why did you not tell her this two weeks ago? Because, madam, two weeks ago I was still addicted to sweet foods myself!
In other words practicing the Golden Rule takes – practice!
So with some trepidation... here are the 10 Rules for Respect in communication between a congregation and its pastor:
10 Rules for Respect
1. If you have a problem with me, come to me (privately).
2. If I have a problem with you, I will come to you (privately).
3. If someone has a problem with me and comes to you, send them to me. (I’ll do the same for you.)
4. If someone consistently will not come to me, say to them, “Let’s go to him together. I am sure he will see us about this.” (I will do the same for you.)
5. Be careful how you interpret me – I’d rather do that. On matters that are unclear, do not feel pressured to interpret my feelings or thoughts. It is easy to misinterpret intentions.
6. I will be careful how I interpret you.
7. If it’s confidential, don’t tell. This especially applies to Vestry meetings. If you or anyone comes to me in confidence, I won’t tell unless a) the person is going to harm himself/herself, b) the person is going to physically harm someone else, c) a child has been physically or sexually abused. I expect the same from you.
8. I do not read unsigned letters or notes.
9. I do not manipulate; I will not be manipulated; do not let others *manipulate you. Do not let others manipulate me through you. I will not preach “at” you on Sunday mornings. I will leave conviction to the Holy Spirit. (She does it better anyway!)
10. When in doubt, just say it. The only dumb questions are those that don’t get asked. We are a family here and we care about each other, so if you have a concern, pray, and then (if led) speak up. If I can answer it without misrepresenting something, someone, or breaking a confidence, I will.
*******
This is one example of how we are to put into effect the golden rule, not only to refrain from doing to others what we would not want others to do to us, but positively to treat others as we want to be treated ourselves.
The gospel lesson contains some paradoxical sayings. Jesus seems to be turning worldly wisdom on its head – give to whoever asks of you, invite beggars to your banquets, go the extra mile – and in some ways I think he is suggesting this as a revolutionary, non-violent protest action. The people of Palestine were, after all, deeply oppressed, and violent protest would lead, as it did, to disaster and destruction. What Israel held most precious, the Temple in Jerusalem, was torn down stone by stone.
Our own pretences of worldly wisdom, canniness and morality, are confounded by Jesus’ sayings – and by the reality of the in-breaking kingdom of God. Jesus is not after all selling us a bill of goods, pie in the sky, nor is he trying to get us killed – though living his way can lead to the cross. What he is doing is trying to get us to live into the kingdom, to begin to conduct ourselves as citizens of the city of God.
It looks topsy-turvy, through the eyes of the world. With the eyes of the heart opened, it is a glimpse of paradise.
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
Bishop Gregory Rickel’s biography and answers to search committee essay questions, Diocese of Olympia (http://www.ecww.org/inthenews/rickel.pdf)
Donald Nicholl, Holiness (Seabury, 1981)
C All Saints RCL
The Lessons Appointed for Use on All Saints' Day - Year C - RCL
Daniel 7:1-3,15-18
Psalm 149
Ephesians 1:11-23
Luke 6:20-31
The Collect
Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
communication
When I spoke to Greg Rickels, bishop of Olympia,
four weeks ago, I asked him if I could use the
10 Rules for Respect in communication he'd
introduced at his parish as rector - and he
readily gave his permission.
Donald Nicholl, the English Catholic layman who
taught me so much at UCSC, loved to tell the
story of Gandhi and the little girl. Her mother
brought her to the great man complaining of her
addiction to sweet foods, and asking Gandhi to do
something about it. Gandhi told her to come back
in two weeks. When she did, he took the little
girl aside and in a few simple words told her how
to break the habit. The mother asked, why did you
not tell her this two weeks ago? Because, madam,
two weeks ago I was still addicted to sweet
foods myself!
So with some trepidation... the 10 Rules for
Respect in communication between a congregation
and its pastor:
10 Rules for Respect
1. If you have a problem with me, come to me
(privately).
2. If I have a problem with you, I will come to
you (privately).
3. If someone has a problem with me and comes to
you, send them to me. (I’ll do the same for you.)
4. If someone consistently will not come to me,
say to them, “Let’s go to him together. I am sure
he will see us about this.” (I will do the same
for you.)
5. Be careful how you interpret me – I’d rather
do that. On matters that are unclear, do not feel
pressured to interpret my feelings or thoughts.
It is easy to misinterpret intentions.
6. I will be careful how I interpret you.
7. If it’s confidential, don’t tell. This
especially applies to Vestry meetings. If you or
anyone comes to me in confidence, I won’t tell
unless a) the person is going to harm
himself/herself, b) the person is going to
physically harm someone else, c) a child has been
physically or sexually abused. I expect the same
from you.
8. I do not read unsigned letters or notes.
9. I do not manipulate; I will not be
manipulated; do not let others manipulate you. Do
not let others manipulate me through you. I will
not preach “at” you on Sunday mornings. I will
leave conviction to the Holy Spirit. (She does it
better anyway!)
10. When in doubt, just say it. The only dumb
questions are those that don’t get asked. We are
a family here and we care about each other, so if
you have a concern, pray, and then (if led) speak
up. If I can answer it without misrepresenting
something, someone, or breaking a confidence, I
will.
Adapted from Bishop Gregory Rickel’s biography
and answers to search committee essay questions
Diocese of Olympia
(http://www.ecww.org/inthenews/rickel.pdf)
Donald Nicholl, Holiness (Seabury, 1981)
four weeks ago, I asked him if I could use the
10 Rules for Respect in communication he'd
introduced at his parish as rector - and he
readily gave his permission.
Donald Nicholl, the English Catholic layman who
taught me so much at UCSC, loved to tell the
story of Gandhi and the little girl. Her mother
brought her to the great man complaining of her
addiction to sweet foods, and asking Gandhi to do
something about it. Gandhi told her to come back
in two weeks. When she did, he took the little
girl aside and in a few simple words told her how
to break the habit. The mother asked, why did you
not tell her this two weeks ago? Because, madam,
two weeks ago I was still addicted to sweet
foods myself!
So with some trepidation... the 10 Rules for
Respect in communication between a congregation
and its pastor:
10 Rules for Respect
1. If you have a problem with me, come to me
(privately).
2. If I have a problem with you, I will come to
you (privately).
3. If someone has a problem with me and comes to
you, send them to me. (I’ll do the same for you.)
4. If someone consistently will not come to me,
say to them, “Let’s go to him together. I am sure
he will see us about this.” (I will do the same
for you.)
5. Be careful how you interpret me – I’d rather
do that. On matters that are unclear, do not feel
pressured to interpret my feelings or thoughts.
It is easy to misinterpret intentions.
6. I will be careful how I interpret you.
7. If it’s confidential, don’t tell. This
especially applies to Vestry meetings. If you or
anyone comes to me in confidence, I won’t tell
unless a) the person is going to harm
himself/herself, b) the person is going to
physically harm someone else, c) a child has been
physically or sexually abused. I expect the same
from you.
8. I do not read unsigned letters or notes.
9. I do not manipulate; I will not be
manipulated; do not let others manipulate you. Do
not let others manipulate me through you. I will
not preach “at” you on Sunday mornings. I will
leave conviction to the Holy Spirit. (She does it
better anyway!)
10. When in doubt, just say it. The only dumb
questions are those that don’t get asked. We are
a family here and we care about each other, so if
you have a concern, pray, and then (if led) speak
up. If I can answer it without misrepresenting
something, someone, or breaking a confidence, I
will.
Adapted from Bishop Gregory Rickel’s biography
and answers to search committee essay questions
Diocese of Olympia
(http://www.ecww.org/inthenews/rickel.pdf)
Donald Nicholl, Holiness (Seabury, 1981)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)