9 march: song of two saints

awakened by moonlight, i boil water, dress, pulling my hood over my cap and my mantle over both, carrying my coffee through the crunch of last fall's needles to my vantage point on the edge of the void, beneath the tall pines. the not-quite-full moon on this not-quite-spring not-quite morning gives not quite enough light to see the not-quite-blooming forsythia to my right, but i imagine at least that i feel the yellow promises.

i sit here with the moon's brightness and the pines' darkness,trying to sing a songs of the saints of god. i want it to be a simple song, but the saints are thomas acquinas and gregory of nyssa, and i think it may be all day long before i can quite harmonize them, if at all.

thinking of them takes me back forty-four years to the fall i acknowledged myself a wise fool. that semester was plato's. yes. sign me up. i want to be a philosopher king. let me out of this cave. spring brought aristotle, whom i found to be a bit pedantic. the following year was to have been thomas acquinas, but the thomas-professor went off to yale, and i suppose found fame, while i went off to roosevelt and such second lights as ernst cassirer and teilhard de chardin and obscurantism. i never read st. thomas.

ah, but gregory of nyssa: his works, some of them anyway, i have read. sign me up. i want to see the world his way. cappadocia may be a land of caves, but gregory saw the light. his moses is no charlston heston, projected into the cave by phantoms, climbing a fake mountain with a fake beard as edgar robinson shows aaron how to make a molten calf. gregory's moses shines in the pure light of mount tabor.

somehow i was able to separate thomas whom i knew as the angelic poet of pange linguam and verbum supernum from the doctor of the summa. but i sat under the pine trees this morning after having read, well, not st. thomas on his feast yesterday, but chesterton's dumb ox biography of acqinas, and i was reminded both that, as plato had recognized, kings may pretend to be philosophers, but philosophers do not want to be kings, and that the methods of the enemy are subtle and pervasive even when simple: julius caesar has taught well; divide and conquer. i am easily carried along by the prejudices of my ignorant times even as i flatter myself that i work against them.

i find a friend who is opposed to private confession caught up in the lutheran heresy because her reason to reject that sacrament is that "roman catholics do it," but i never see past the log in my eye that keeps me from reading thomas because i have swallowed the more respectable heresy of hegelianism, never even tasting its bitterness amongst the sugars of modernism.

i was reminded of my dismissal of acquinas' thought as pedantic aristotelianism in a wonderful way this morning. pedantic is, after all, a sort of pun, combining the pedestrianism of walking with the pediatrics of childhood. the moon's brilliance was obscured by clouds as that lesser light approached the horizon. then, i could see more stars, stars which i wanted to place in constellations, but could not because of the pine trees. then, in the great darkness before the dawn, i began to hear the foot-fall, the pedantry, of a doe and her fawns browsing on the forest flood. i could even see ever so slightly the forms of the forsythia blossoms. the pines lost what chesterton might call, even if i do think wrongly, their byzantine flatness.

how easy it is not to see the pine trees for the stars.

2 march: the feast of st. chad

there is snow under the pine trees this morning, reminding me of the snowy morning by the pine tree at amelia white park in santa fe eighteen years ago when i took chad as my patron in my journey with christ. chad the barefoot walker who recognized that fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom.

my faithfulness in that journey has been far from consistent. i have again and again excused myself for my faltering inconsistancy by the ease with which i can find fault with the church. there must, i tell myself, be a better way. i want the church to be one, to be holy, to be catholic, to be apostolic. when i fail to see her so, i like john the forerunner ask, should i look somewhere else.

one year i took a leave from my duties in the parish to "explore native american spirituality." i was living in santa fe at the time, where there actually is some survival of the old indigenous ways. i also returned to arkansas to try to find what had been the "beliefs" of the peoples indigenous to my natal soil before they had been driven out by my ancesters. i didn't find much, and yet i found enough.

the local religions were just that, local. they were many. they were natural, not holy, and entirely unconcerned about including others. despite what rich white women in navajo skirts and pawn silver said about the wonders of praying for "all my relations," all those relations were one's own family tree. the hopi might dance for the good of the whole world, but there was no place for a european in the dance, or a syrian, as the syrian church had made european bishops, and the european bishops had made navajo bishops. "native spirituality" was many, natural, local, and ethnic. i returned to the church, and found myself much to my surprise being made missionary bishop to the ozarks. (i had only enquired about how to make the order of st. chad canonically independent of new mexico.)

so, for a while, i was faithful again, returning to arkansas, even if it were to jonesboro rather than to fayetteville, trying to lead a life remarkably different enough from the world that people would ask me, what gives, when i could tell them of the faith "once delivered to the apostles."

my next crisis, once again, was with that collection, assortment really, of buildings ranging from repulsively hideous to sublimely beautiful, with signs out front saying "church." i had no interest in starting another one, but i felt that i should find them, if not on the same page as i, at least in the same book. then came the 2000 "election," in which many christians professed their faith in george w. bush as their lord and saviour, and even worse, almost non called that action heresy. there would follow the events that have come to be known as 9/11, and the cathedral church of sts. peter and paul, both of which were martyred by the empire, the more aptly named national cathedral, came to the service of those who said "let us bomb our enemies back into the stone age," a phrase for which i have looked without success in my strong's concordance. they rolled out creaky old billy graham, the kindest and gentlest of those who present the gospel as a "get out of hell free card." the apostate empire was singing "onward, christian soldiers," and from building after building signed "church" came the great amen.

i cried. in my tears i thought, there must be something better. as i was packing to return to new mexico, through my tears i read an old friend's name on the return address of a letter that arrived on the last day i was in jonesboro, a friend from the old parish in santa fe who then lived in seattle. come, he said. you'll like it here: ocean; mountains. this was my introduction to the none-zone.

the none-zone, western oregon and washington, is the area where most people, if asked their religious preference, say none. i bought a kayak and started exploring. people would ask, what do you do? i would say, i'm looking for clues. people pretended to understand. bellingham, home of western washington university, became my home port. there i met some brilliant young students of arts and sciences. if anyone had a clue, i thought, they might. they were brilliant but clueless, sacrificing four years of their lives in residence at an institution which taught that there were no real clues. many of them would sacrifice more years paying off student loans. i quickly realized that "the faith delivered to the apostles" is as good as it gets, is indeed as good as it needs to be. the problem is that we resist receiving it.

once again i resisted "starting a church," although i danced around the idea. i had a congregation of sorts: students who came to my tent in the night like nichodemus, students i catechized and baptized and buried, who were intrigued by jesus and a strange old man they thought might look like jesus--jesus if he and mary magadalen had really been married and had become grand parents. but mostly, they did not join me on sunday mornings at the church where i worshipped. (a few did, but the church was not very welcoming to them, nor did they understand why i would waste my time there.)

the worst moment came one easter morning, soon after the death of tim, a 29-year-old graduate of western washington. his was the first death, the first, funeral, many of these young people had known. in my pew sat nine kids who had known tim. they had been moved by the faith expressed during tim's death and wake and funeral, and they wanted to see where i worshipped. i was horrified. the "service" was one of those laurence-welk-show type of things so common with protestants these days: lots of special music that excluded the congregation. no silence. no room for the holy. and the most anti-resurrection sermon i had ever heard. and i was stuck. afterwards, i couldn't say, no this isn't church, this isn't easter. there was a big sign in front of this big building with stained glass windows claiming church. the brass band had played special easter music.

the next sunday i started worshipping at st. paul's episcopal church. it was two miles further from my house, and up a long hill, but at the easter vigil there had been a real proclamation of the resurrection, and the gathered people of god had been encouraged to do their work, to worship. so for the next several years in bellingham, without meaning to, i became a casual missionary for the episcopal church. as one young man, raised mostly methodist, who had asked, but where do you worship, dale, a young man, now exploring priesthood in the episcopal church, says, "in my church we worship the way christians have for 2,000 years. i pray that there might be more churches like st. paul's.

but now i am back in the ozarks, back to the place i was sent 14 years ago, on a morning with snow under the pines once again. the pine underneath which i took my first vows of obedience, poverty, stability, and chastity, has been cut down. in its place is an ugly statue. that's it in the picture above. one that statue is plaque that i can only paraphrase: be careful what you do here. simple acts can have great consequences. i came back to the ozarks on what i thought to be a retreat, to spend some time in silence, listening to the wind words. ah, that can be a dangerous thing to do.

on this second day of march, the feast of st. chad, bishop of mercia. i find myself once more hoist by my own petar. if find the wind words saying, inconveniently at this time when once again there is no king in israel, albeit the new israel, and every man does as he pleases, to return to the faith that has been given to us by the apsotles, to call us to receive it. alas, this morning's matins reading for a patron saint who is a bishop is from the tenth chapter of the gospel according to matthew: go to the lost sheep of the house of israel. so, i pray this morning, under the tall pines among which i know dwell, for the grace to be cunning as serpents and yet as harmless as doves. amen.

my lenten koan

lent very clearly means spring this morning. at 6:00 i am able to read the psalms with my first cup of coffee, seated under one of the tall pines at the edge of the holler.

if animals indeed have animae, souls, then the souls of the world en-fleshed in the creeping and flying creatures are waking from the sleep of winter well before the grass, herb yielding seed, or fruit trees, which are just beginning to swell with buds while the squirrels and frogs and birds are rampant in their lauds. even a vulture is aloft, circling in the light above the shadow of this round world, light which remains only a promise here in the pines.

my lenten koan for this year seems simpler than some years past: it is from the eighth chapter of luke,at the conclusion of the parable of the sower:

"having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with abundance."

i am very seldom good ground, with an honest and pure heart. but those times when i get all puffed up and feel pure, good, and honest, i tend to lose all patience--proof i was merely pridefull.

yet am i hopeful. the holy one will not fail to hear my cry, "lord, i am thine, o save me."

only three weeks ago, these pines, this holler, was as quiet and frozen as narnia in the grasp of the white witch, each branch, each needle, each blade imprisoned in ice. no creepers crept, no winged creatures flew. we, my neighbors and i, huddled in the cold darkness.

but just a little while, and i sit in this warm bright morning as the song of the turtle is heard in the land.

"having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with abundance."

quadragesima: a reply to the serpent

great lent is observed somwhat differently in the eastern and western churches. there are, i think, some peculiar advantages to each method of preparation for pascha, for easter.

the east has no mardi gras, no great "party" to end "carnival," no headaches on ash wednesday. instead, orthodoxy gradually takes up the lenten fast, first with meat-fare sunday, the last flesh-eating day before great lent, then with cheese-fare sunday, when dairy products are last eaten before pascha.

on cheese-fare sunday is commemorated the expulsion of adam of the first creation from the paradise of bliss. first vespers remembers our creation from "dust from the earth," and recognizes that satan "deceived me through eating."

we pray, "lord, when i disobeyed thy command at the counsel of the adversary, i wretched one, was stripped of my god-woven robe." these are words looking forward of course to the new robe of the second creation, the chrysom that we are given in our baptism into that new creation, and to the gift of the holy spirit, the true counselor, that we will celebrate at the end of the great fifty days of the pascha.

in the liturgy we are told in the epistle, from romans, "let not him that eateth despite him that eateth not; and let him which eateth not judge him that eateth . . ." in the orthodox church, there is not so much of "what will i give up for lent." the fast is proscribed, so there is less opportunity for pride in giving up some favourite thing. easter therefore is less often reduced to getting chocolate back.

the gospel includes the same passage as the catholic west reads on ash wednesday:

". . . when ye fast, be not,as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. . . . but though, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face."

in the second vespers comes this prayer, which is repeated every sunday evening during lent:

"let us all hasten to the subjugation of the flesh by abstinence, as we approach the divine battle-field of blameless fasting. let us pray the lord, our saviour, in tears and prayers, turning away completely from sin, and crying, we have sinned against thee, o christ the king. save us, therefore, as of old thou didst save the people of ninevah; and make us partakers of thy heavenly kingdom, o compassionate one."

and because we know our own weaknesses, we ask also the interecessions of all the saints, especially of the most blessed theotokos.

monday morning the forty days begin.

in the west, which counts the forty days somewhat differently, it is on wednesday, ash wednesday, that the prophet jonah is read at matins, telling of the fasting and the repentance of ninevah. the collect asks for that second creation which comes with the second adam:

"almighty and everlasting god, who hatest nothing that thou hast made, and dost forgive the sins of all those who are penitent; create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of thee, the god of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through jesus christ our lord. amen.

then, after hearing matthew in the liturgy, those of us who have been beguiled by the words of the serpent, "ye shall not surely die," hear instead these words:

"remember, o man, that thou art dust, and unto dust shall thou return."

quadragesima sunday (new calendar)

i have friends for whom i admit an occasional jealousy. they, although in most ways practicing christians,are able to speak of the church in the third person, to distance themselves from her, to accuse her of shortcomings they do not share. sometimes this condemnation is of "the organized church," or "the visible church," as if christ desires a disheveled, invisible bride. such an understanding of the church seems not only completely at variance with the new testament, but also unable to carry out the mission which christ jesus has given her. to take a single example, if we are to be in the world but not of the world, how can we witness to the world if we can not be seen?

i am unable to think this way. my identity, my existence, is in the body of christ, the church. i was baptised in the church, confirmed in the church, ordained in the church. by the grace of god i hope toe ventually join my voice with that "great voice of much people in heaven, saying, alleluia; salvation, and glory, and honour, and power, unto the lord our god.

but already i pray in and as the church. each day i confess my sins, not only in the words of psalm 51 (et), "have mercy on me, o god . . . gor i acknowledge my faults and my sin is ever before me," but also in the words of "a general confession" from the book of common prayer: "we have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. we have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts . . . ."

my sin afflicts the whole church, and the sins of the whole church are mine. indeed the sin of the whole world is mine, is ours, for as christ's body we continue to take on the sin of the world, thus, as paul wrote to the church in colossae, "in my own body to do what i can to make up all that is still to be undergone by christ for the sake of his body, the church." (1:24)

alas, surely there is no affliction of the church more painful than her present state, "by scisms rent asunder, by heresies distrest." (s. j. stone) this seems to be a huge sin, which i find myself confessing each lent, sadly ignored again and again by those of us who never consider what we see as the current voice of the spirit, so conveniently in concord with the spirit of the times, might be prelest.

i have been encouraged these past few weeks before great lent by three books written by members of christ's body who have experienced great suffering, but who have also found themselves therein participants in christ's glory. the books are not of this world: the life and teachings of father seraphim rose, by monk damascene christenson; fragments of my life, by catherine de hueck doherty, and the candlelight kingdom, by ruth korper. they are all three infused with the suffering of russian christians, a circumstance conveniently overlooked by my "liberal education" of the 1960's and '70's, events i would be surprised to find known by many american christians even today. but they do describe the church, organized, visible, and very much alive under the most difficult of conditions.

last week in the daily office were the stories of peter's confession and of the lord's transfiguration. (in churches using the new common lectionary, this sunday was heard the story of the transfiguration also.) in both of these stories the climax is "that the son of man must suffer many things."

may we who confess and call ourselves christians often find ourselves during great lent using this prayer composed by william reed huntington, who with his 1870 book the church idea was on of the pioneers of the recent search for church unity:

"almighty god, whose most dear son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified; mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through the same thy son jesus christ our lord. amen."

new blog

on a cold march morning in 1992 i earnestly presented a rule and made vows to bishop richard gundrey for something to be called the order of st. chad. i had chosen chad as our patron (at that time, my patron) because he lived in times just as confusing and transitional as ours, and had managed to remain faithful to his lord and the traditions in which he had been trained (by st. aidan, no less) and to remain humble even when he was made bishop.

at one time there were six of us in this little order, trying to follow a rule of life as we lived in the busyness of the modern, urban world. we dwindled, more or less, over the years. one who still follows the rule is now the directress of an orphanage. two became benedictines, and left the busyness of the modern, urban world. one decided to return to the native american traditions of his adopted father. one i have lost track of. and then here am i, in a small town in the ozarks, but certainly in the buzyness of the world.

in the early days of the order, we had a quarterly newsletter. now it is much easier, and i hope not too much against the spirit of st. chad, to do something similar on-line.

the icon that heads the first post of the the new blog is of st. john the wonderworker (of shanghai and san francisco). it is he who has encouraged me to start up again taking seriously the need for what st. chad and the other orthodox celtic saints have to offer us. i have followed the rule, at times less faithfully than others, for eighteen years now, and i have no regrets.

so here i will post lives of celtic saints, suggestions for a rule of life, and stories of my wanderings trying to follow my patron.

septuagesima sunday: out of the wilderness into the arena

septuagesima may not be a term familiar to you, but it is a term which has come back to me this year as a special gift. i had been wanting to revisit ezekiel, so since ephiphany i have been following the 1943 american episcopal lectionary, which provides readings from ezekiel for the first four weeks after that feast.

that lectionary also includes septuagesima sunday, which the newer, post-vatican ii lectionaries have abandoned. in 568, the lombards began to threaten italy, and john iii, bishop of rome, appointed three pre-lenten sundays for supplication against the impending peril. the first, which was celebrated at the church of st. laurence outside the walls, was (only approximately) 70 days before easter, hence the term septuagesima.

we of course begin the post-epiphany season reading about jesus' baptism in the jordan by john the forerunner, and "immediately the spirit driveth him into the wilderness." (mark 1:12) for the past three years i have been in the wilderness, driven by the spirit to seek answers to questions that keep me awake long into the night.

the first reading for matins of septuagesima is the beginning of the book of joshua. joshua (jesus in greek) leads israel through the jordan so they can begin the struggle for the promised land. i am grateful that although i fall short of our lord, who came to understand his mission in forty days, that by his grace it has not taken me longer than forty years.

the gospel for septuagesima is jesus' story of how "the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the morning to hire laborers into his vineyard." he hired other laborers also throughout the day. "and when they came that were hired about the eleventh hours, they received every man a penny."

thanks be to god for this good news. there is still a bit of time for me to work. the good man of the house says, "i will give unto this last . . . ." (matthew 20:1ff)i can still pray with psalm 39 "lord, let me know mine end, and the number of my days."

but there is more in this day's wonderful propers: psalm 40, with its claim, "i waited patiently for the lord, and he inclined unto me, and heard my calling"--not that i have always been so patient as i should be. but in some ways the best is the encouragement from the blessed apostle: ". . . run, that ye may obtain. and every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible.

"i therefore so run, not so uncertainly . . . " (i corinthians 9:24ff).

6 february: st. titus

st. titus was the first bishop of crete, and the letter to him from st. paul is an important document in understanding how very early the ministry of the church assumed the form it has today.

that letter is not very popular among many in the church today, however. i don't want to think it is the reason that the american episcopal church, for instance, downgraded titus from having a day of his own to merging him with timothy on 26 january. the letter is important enough (i mean, it is part of the new testament) but challenging enough to the way we often do things today, to be worth a read.

23 january: phillips brooks

i sit sipping coffee before sunrise. the stars are all washed away by he dawn's spreading light. it must be full sunrise in the stratosphere. down here in the holler, i still need a candle.

it is the commemoration of phillips brooks. it's hard to get excited about phillips brooks, stuck as he is in this week of dramatic martyrs like agnes and fabian and vincent of sarragosa, all of whom died heroically in times of great tribulation.

brooks died in fashionable boston comfort, after 22 years as the rector of trinity parish and 15 months as the bishop of massachusetts. yet, as david l. veal writes, "he preached sound christian doctrine to listeners who ostensibly had no interest in such." he is therefore, i think, a much more helpful saint for most of us today , especially those of us who try to live lives based on sound christian doctrine in a world that clearly has very little interest in such. he is one of the candles most of us need.

(he also wrote the christmas carol, "o little town of bethlehem".)

prayers for the president

before today's commotion surrounding who would pray for the president, there have been prayers, both for the person and for the office.

the first american book of common prayer included this prayer:

"O LORD, our heavenly Father, the high and mighty Ruler of the universe, who dost from thy throne behold all the dwellers upon earth; Most heartily we beseech thee, with thy favour to behold and bless thy servant THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, and all others in authority; and so replenish them with the grace of thy Holy Spirit, that they may always incline to thy will, and walk in thy way. Endue them plenteously with heavenly gifts; grant them in health and prosperity long to live; and finally, after this life, to attain everlasting joy and felicity; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

it is a revision of the english prayer for the monarch, but it was moved to its position in morning prayer rather than in the communion service because george washington liked to hear it, but almost always left christchurch, alexandria, before the litany and communion.

later was added this prayer, which is less concerned with the occupant of the office as with the functioning of the office:

"O LORD our Governor, whose glory is in all the world; We commend this nation to thy merciful care, that being guided by thy Providence, we may dwell secure in thy peace. Grant to THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, and to all in Authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do thy will. Fill them with the love of truth and righteousness; and make them ever mindful of their calling to serve this people in thy fear; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, world without end. Amen."

either or both seem appropriate prayers to remember and use, however we feel about the occupant of the office of the president or whom he asks for prayers.

the chair of peter and the week of prayer for christian unity

18 january, the feast of the chair of st. peter, called by protestants the confession of st. peter, has for more than 100 years now been the beginning of a week of prayer for christian unity. (the week ends on 25 january, the feast of the conversion of st. paul.) the week has sometimes been more attended, sometime less.

the differences between the parts of the church seeking union is illustrated in the way the feast that starts it is considered. from the roman catholic side unity seems possible by accepting the authority of peter's successors (even though his chair is actually from his documented time as bishop at antioch, rather than rome). from the protestant side unity seems possible by accepting the confession that "jesus is messiah" with an amazing variety of what is meant by that in the thousands of splinters of protestantism.

but there has been a unity within the church which i lament, and which seems often to prevent her recognizing the real unity which is her gift from her founder. it is fascinating to note that the story of peter's confession is set in caesarea philippi, a town which, celebrating both the greek and roman empires' rule in "the land," was a sort of twin towers of its day, with greek culture and roman politics. by recognizing the lordship of christ jesus, both of these towers were destroyed.

but both the roman catholic and protestant followers of jesus have tended to rebuild the towers (think babylon here if you haven't already). the roman catholic church quickly became a very worldly political power, and the first thing almost all of the protestants did, with a very few wonderful exceptions, was to try to force the government to accept their "confessions."

the church has often been united in wanting the kingdom of christ jesus to be the successor to the roman empire. no wonder jesus again and again told his disciples not to mention that he was the messiah. he knew we would get it wrong, again and again.

this is a prayer from the anglican tradition which seems appropriate for the week:


O GOD, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, our only Saviour, the Prince of Peace; Give us grace seriously to lay to heart the great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions. Take away all hatred and prejudice, and whatsoever else may hinder us from godly, union and concord: that as there is but one Body and one Spirit, and one hope of our calling, one Lord, one Faith, one Baptism, one God and Father of us all, so we may be all of one heart and of one soul, united in one holy bond of truth and peace, of faith and charity, and may with one mind and one mouth glorify thee; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

14 january a.d. 2009

the moon waning in the pine tops demands i rise to witness the splendour of its slow slivering. spring is approaching: the pines' winddance is clearly visible now at 6:30, against the sky's pre-dawn day-glow grey, tempting me to join them for lauds. "o come," they choir, "let us sing unto the lord; let us heartily rejoice in the strength of our salvation."

they know i will come. i pour my coffee back into the pot on the warmer, to regain heat after the chill of the night-cooled mug, roll a cigarette for the morning incense offering, and vest in scarf and poncho and warm wool socks.

i envy the pines' perfect reedom, serving as they do the lord of the dance while rooted in one perfect, holy place. they each hold rings of knowledge of this hillside beyond anything for which i hope.

and yet, i try to console myself, and yet i in my warm cell am also surrounded by leaves, the leaves of writings of a great cloud of witnesses. indeed most of them have come from the great red barn of witnesses called hillspeak on grindstone mountain just to the south, a few miles beyond my laundry room.

and yet i know also why i buffer myself with that cloud. the pines dance sky-clad in the mighty wind; i sit shrouded in wool and coffee. with awe i watch the pine boughs dance, rejoice to see the great silver-winged vultures give themselves yet another day to the wind. but i also shudder a bit, trepid as i chant the words "today, if ye will, hear his voice . . . ." i know that even the towering loblollies will join their brethren who have danced themselves into windfall. three of them lie behind me, their tops pointing towards grindstone mountain, their roots still clinging to great clumps of the rocky soil from which they towered.

above us all the vultures gyre in the growing light, their silver wings flashing gold and bronze as they catch the day springing from on high.

the sunday after the epiphany: the baptism of our lord

"in the midst of life we are in death; of whom may we seek for succour but of thee, o lord, who for our sins is justly displeased?"

i sit on the edge of the valley
brimful with brown bare ruined choirs
winter cold winter dead.

the ground below packed skeletons
of dead creatures of the deep.
on the first day the spirit of the lord brooded
over them.
this first day they are shrouded with oak mould,
jordan's waters a memory ancient and legendary.
yet here begins the gospel of jesus
christ the son of god:
jesus comes to the jordan to be baptized.

"we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out."

i have brought bits of potatoes thinking
to feed the birds,
but winter's wind has frozen them hard as
the limestone.
therefore sit i only,
and watch.

"he shall feed his flock like a shepherd."

in the midst of this death there is
yet life:
flickers and cardinals and nuthatches
have found a table prepared.
they fly through the deep of
light on this first day.

"grant to us who are still in our pilgrimate, and who walk as yet by faith, that having served thee with constancy on earth, we may be joined hereafter with thy blessed saints in glory everlasting."

(quotes are from the burial office of the book of common prayer 1928).

7 january a.d. 2009

epiphany evening, after evening prayer with frankincense, and before dipping into the kings' cake, crowned with golden rings of pineapple and marischino rubies, a friend asked what we wanted for the new year.

the answers were mostly easily obtainable, ranging from "just to get by," to "a passionate new lovelife." but i have been feeling quite hopeful about my desire: i want psalm 72 to be filled as full as the stoneware jugs at the wedding in cana:


Give the King your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to the King's son;

That he may rule your people righteously
and the poor with justice.

That the mountains may bring prosperity to the people,
and the little hills bring righteousness.

He shall defend the needy among the people;
he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.

He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure,
from one generation to another.

He shall come down like rain upon the mown field,
like showers that water the earth.

In his time shall the righteous flourish;
there shall be abundance of peace till the moon shall be no more.

He shall rule from sea to sea,
and from the River to the ends of the earth.

His foes shall bow down before him,
and his enemies lick the dust.

1The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall pay tribute,
and the kings of Arabia and Saba offer gifts.

All kings shall bow down before him,
and all the nations do him service.

For he shall deliver the poor who cries out in distress,
and the oppressed who has no helper.

He shall have pity on the lowly and poor;
he shall preserve the lives of the needy.

He shall redeem their lives from oppression and violence,
and dear shall their blood be in his sight.

Long may he live! and may there be given to him gold from Arabia;
may prayer be made for him always, and may they bless him all the day long.

May there be abundance of grain on the earth, growing thick even on the hilltops;
may its fruit flourish like Lebanon, and its grain like grass upon the earth.

May his Name remain for ever and be established as long as the sun endures;
may all the nations bless themselves in him and call him blessed.

Blessed be the Lord GOD, the God of Israel,
who alone does wondrous deeds!

And blessed be his glorious Name for ever!
and may all the earth be filled with his glory.
Amen. Amen.

the feast of the epiphany

epiphany is a triple mystery: christ accepts his bride the church as water becomes wine at cana, christ washes away our sin in the jordan, and kings come to the brightness of his dawning. but it is the coming of the kings which has prevailed as the image in the western church, and which has resulted in one of my favourite comments on the day, this poem by t. s. eliot:

Journey of the Magi

'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For the journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins,
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death,
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death. (from ariel poems--1928)

feast of stephen

in the readings for the feast is this wonderfully quaint sentence from the wisdom of solomon: "for the bewitching of naughtiness doth obscure things that are honest; and the wandering of concupiscence doth undermine the simple mind." (4:12)

ain't it the truth? and does not every minion of the deceiver know this very well, but don't we in our assumed sophistication ignore it?

i have been pondering the past few days how the mysterious and perfect celebration of the nativity of our lord sink so low as the american christmas. ah! naughtiness is bewitching, and we listen to "christmas music," which is full of the wandering of concupiscence. and we simply find it shiny and bright. santa claus comes to town on an interstate highway paved with the obscurity of the true light which enlightens all human beings.

therefore i rejoice that the church celebrates this feast for twelve beautiful days, giving us time to get over the vulgar greediness of the shopping days, so that the dawn from on high can indeed lead us in the paths of peace.

In the Bleak Mid Winter - Lichfield Cathedral Choir 1995

this christmas eve i am in santa fe, new mexico, with snow on snow, so this carol from my patron, chad's, cathedral seems nearly a perfect christmas card to all of you.

an advent question: what is true christianity.2

i still feel i have fallen far short of giving a good answer to my friend's question, and although i could probably go on and on without making much more sense than i have, i want to come to a conclusion. i had thought of including a part describing some "real christians," of whom i think there are very many, but who never show up on cnn news. and, i had thought of discussing some of the worst aspects of american religion, such as inflatable santa clauses in front of "christian churches." but i think none of these things are as helpful as looking at the question from an entirely different direction.

instead of considering "real christianity" from the viewpoint of real christians, i want to look at it from the real revelation of god the father in jesus christ his son. real christianity accepts this revelation as true, and builds on it. from that viewpoint, all christianity is about recognizing who the person of jesus, the christ, is. it means that no matter how well we respond to that revelation, if we recognize that god was in christ reconciling the world to himself, then we are on the path of true christianity. the work of real christians then becomes opening ourselves to this revelation. the work of the church then becomes making this reconciliation known to the whole world.

an advent question: what is true christianity?

a friend asked me the question, and i mostly blew it off, with my usual joke about having pencils made with john 17:3 printed on them. you know that verse, don't you? it's the punch line, as it were, to that sentence from john's gospel that is printed on pick-up trucks and radiator shops and pencils given to grade school children. there are "christian tee shirts" that say just "3:16."

but i find that in most even large groups of self-professing christians, asking them to quote john 17:3 evokes blank looks. but then so does the question, "what is eternal life?" here's jesus' definition as recorded in the gospel according to john, spoken in a prayer: "this is eternal life: to know thee who art truly god, and jesus christ whom thou hast sent."

of course, this is not true christianity. it is the goal of true christianity, the treasure hidden in the field of true christianity.

and of course this definition of true christianity leaves much of what calls itself "christianity" or "church" far short of the truth. "imposters will come claiming to be messiahs or prophets, and they will produce great signs and wonders to misleed even god's chosen, i such a thing were possible." (matt. 24:24) "not everyone who calls me 'lord, lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only those who do the will of my heavenly father. . . . many will say to me, 'lord, lord, did we not prophesy in your name, cast out devils in your name, and in our name perform many miracles?' then," says jesus, "i will tell them to their face, 'i never knew you: out of my sight, you and your wicked ways.'"

that anyone might be excluded from the kingdom of heaven is one of the few anathmas of the modern psychosis. but if christianity means following jesus christ, then true christianity means truly following him, despite our contemporary prophets such as oprah winfrey or joel olsteen or john spong, even if they are recognized by broadcasting networks and american "churches." "narrow is the way."

to be a true christian, as has been recognized by great saints since the first century (matt. 19:27-30), one must take the call of jesus seriously. "if anyone wishes to be a follower of mine, he must leave self behind; day after day he must take up his cross, and come with me." (luke 9:23) there is more: "there is still one thing lacking: sell everything you have and distribute it to the poor, and you will have riches in heaven; and come, follow me." (luke 18:22)

need one say more? much more certainly has been said, and written. how does one sort through all the verbage that someone claims is christian? one simple way of course is not to bother. the desert fathers, who took the following of jesus very seriously, prayed the psalms and the gospels, and that was enough. francis of assissi heard the gospel from the 18th chapter of luke and did it. the pilgrim in the russian classic, the way of the pilgrim, read the gospel and the writings of the desert fathers and their succesors, most of whom lived in mountain fastnesses.

but for many of us, much of the time, it seems, we follow all sorts of paths that lead almost anywhere except to the cross. then we are surprised to find that our lives are not full of joy or peace. we do not recognize the wisdom of this prayer from the leonine sacramentary:

"almighty god, whose most dear son went not up to joy but
first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he
was crucified: mercifully grant that we, walking in the way
of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and
peace; through jesus christ our lord. amen."

the season of advent is not really about making ready for christmas. it is an annual reminder for us to make ready for the coming of the holy one, in our lives and in final judgement. the english book of common prayer is wise to suggest this prayer for daily use during the season of advent:

"almighty god, give us grace to cast away the works of
darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of
this mortal life in which your son jesus christ came to visit
us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come
again in his glorious majesty to judge both the living and the
dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who lives
and reigns with you and the holy spirit, one god, now and
for ever. amen."

this is also the season when we spend much time with psalm 85, which includes the wonderful lines,

"mercy and truth are met together:
righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
truth shall flourish out of the earth:
and righteousness hath looked down from heaven."

true christianity recognizes that we are not alone, that the same jesus whose seemingly outrageous commands also says to us, ". . . be assured, i am with you always, to the end of time," (matt. 28:20) true christianity is the source of the "joy to the world" in which "heaven and nature sing." why should we settle for anything less?

advent friday in kansas city

accustomed as i am to the towns and cities of the pacific northwest, kansas city took me a bit by surprise: i had to walk blocks and blocks to find a starbucks. but find one i did, and sipped a grande christmas blend while muzak played "chestnuts roasting on a open fire." at the next table a japanese free-lance marketeer (mostly wireless networks, i guess) was networking with an indian marketeer, who used to work for "fairy dust." in the new economy (read post-meltdown) no one is hiring, so free-lancing sub-contractors have to hustle.

it's a strange new world. in topeka the police and their dogs inspected the luggage on our bus. they took off and questioned a seemingly exceptionally nice grandfather based on the smell of one of his checked bags. the man who had spent the entire trip talking to condoleesa rice and robert macnamara about the vice president's need to leave the earth on december 15th, left the bus when we arrived in kansas city. a concerned fellow rider had asked him whether he would like to go to the hospital."robert" told "oboy" that he should get off the bus, because the man was definitely a secret agent. although he (they) had a ticket to new york, he left with his powder blue blanket and pillow, quietly talking so the other people on the bus would not hear where they were going. a woman, nearly totally hidden in a black leather coat with a fur-lined hood, had fled in terror into the laramy cold. her ticket had been to michigan, but she felt hot.

so, in this culture of make believe in have pretended to eremeticism, but i am eating ginger bread rather than fasting. i can cast out no demons. here in the starbucks of the kansas city financial district i am surrounded by people who in their worship of the economy are much more devout than i.

lo, he comes with clouds descending

the first sunday of advent is often celebrated with that wonderful charles wesley hymn, lo, he comes with clouds descending. many times when we see rainbows, we remember the promise to noah. but how often when we see clouds do we see them as a reminder of the coming again of our lord? living in the pacific northwest as i have done much of the past eight years, i am constantly surrounded with signs of his eminent return. mara na tha. even so, come, lord jesus, come.

hilda, whitby, and the beloved disciple

the past month, the readings in celtic daily prayer have been about "the house that john built"--the celtic form of church that saw itself as the work of followers of the beloved disciple, john, who listened to the heartbeat of the holy one. at the council of whitby, overseen by hilda the abbess in the late seventh century, the church of peter imposed its order upon the church of john. the "house that john built" went underground, as it were, surviving in all sorts of practices that we today sometimes call "celtic christianity."

there are many today who are trying to recover such a gentle, less imposing form of the church. celtic daily prayer concludes the series of readings with these encouraging words:

"so,is there a house that john built--today? is it being built again? if so, it will be through leaning as beloved john did on the breast of jesus, through hearing his heart-cry and uniting our hearts with his. it will not be through the establishing of some radical alternative structure that breeds schism or becomes another fast-decaying denomination awaiting fossilization. it may be through living in a way that is recognizably different, as hild and cuthbert and the others did, working in and alongside the structures presented to them--with simplicity and fervour. if the structures fall, so be it--whatever is of lasting value will endure.

"as columba said to his community when he was dying:

'see that you be at peace among yourselves,
my children, and love one another.
follow the example of good men of old,
and god will comfort you and help yo
both in this world
and in the world which is to come.'

"and this was the peace that columba found:

"the peace of christ." (p.794)

on the other hand

what was i saying about the
glories of orthodoxy?

perhaps when peter wanted to build three little shrines on mount tabor, jesus knew what such a tourist attraction could lead to. i suppose clothes don't necessarily make the man.

hoist by my own petard

a few weeks ago, in my ongoing search for the church, i decided that the correct criteria were probably found in the story of john's disciples who came to jesus just before john was beheaded:

"when john heard in prison what the messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, ‘are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ jesus answered them, ‘go and tell john what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. and blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.'" (matthew 11:2-6)

i confess i'm having a lot of trouble finding such a church. oh, i hear plenty of mouthing about "healing of relationships," and "metaphorical blindness," and i find cheese sandwiches and instant coffee brought to the poor, but almost everyone i meet is offended by jesus and what he says. more often than not the sermons i have heard these past months, when the new revised common lectionary months has featured the difficult parables from matthew's version of the gospel, have begun with asking something like "are you offended?" and then continued to say why we should be offended, because these stories aren't about "the real world."

so, into this search dropped a slightly worn copy of the mountain of silence by kyriacos markides. the church, the ekklesia that markides finds on cyprus as he chauffeurs and questions the gerontos maximos is a kingdom of god in which the events of the gospels and acts that so embarass us modern merely rational folk are commonplace. indeed, "the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. and blessed is anyone who takes no offence at [jesus]."

so, i am ready to give up on all the western divisions of the church and to singularly embrace orthodoxy. the problem is that the orthodox church in this country is as fragmented as protestantism. there is a greek orthodox church just a few blocks from my house. the liturgy is in greek, and my hair is not black enough to let me pass for the right ethnicity. the wall between greek and jew may be broken down in that church, but the wall between greek and welsh is still standing.

markides is satisfied, as a sociologist at least, with a concept of the church as a mystical body, not identified with any visible part of the institutional church. i am not. but i may have to live with it.

meanwhile, i am faced with the fact of how feeble my search for the holy one really is.

on being a priest today

it is five o'clock in the morning, raining. usually i would be praying psalms at this hour, but i am going to get on my bicycle in about 45 minutes and ride to a friend's house to share psalmody this autumn friday as the dayspring from on high visits us.

last night i finished reading nora gallagher's amazingly honest and painful book practicing resurrection, in which she describes her life while she was "discerning" her call to the priesthood in the episcopal church, three years during which she spent a lot of time flying back and forth between california and new mexico to visit her dying brother, and a lot of time driving back and forth between santa barbara and los angeles, and into the hills behind santa barbara, to discern and be discerned. as the book closes she has been discerned by the church to be fit for priesting, but she remains in what she calls the in between, no longer "just laity," but not quite a priest. she has not gone to seminary.

two nights ago i spent some time with a friend, ryan welch, who introduces himself as an "independent poet and thinker." he said that there are not many things he knows, but he does know that he is a poet: "i go to sleep a poet; i wake up a poet." now, ryan is not the most usual sort of person. he spends his days walking around the town, doing a little volunteer work, drinking coffee, thinking of his poems. he has no job, and he acutely feels that most of the people he meets consider him of doubtful socially redeeming value.

i'm a lot like ryan, although i consider myself profoundnly dependent: a profoundly dependent priest and thinker. (i try to rebel in my gentle way against the thinker part, but the monkey mind is always full.) i go to sleep a priest; i wake up a priest. during my days, i walk or bicycle around town, do a little volunteer work, drink coffee, and think about the book of genesis and pray for the folks i meet. i have no job, and feel acutely that many of the people who know me think better of me than they should. i am of very doubtful socially redeeming value.

gallagher, bless her heart as she drives hundreds of southern california miles musing about her home parish's concerns for cutting-edge environmental issues, does a wonderful job of expressing the confusion so common in the church today about laity and ordination. priests are the ones who get to wear "those beautiful robes" and stand behind the altar. the laity are those to whom those "privileges" are denied. she feels that to don the robes would be an abandonment of the laity.

i spend little time "behind the altar," and almost of none of it vested in those beautiful robes. so, what do i do that's priestly? the model of priestly activity is seen in the eucharist, when the priest takes the offerings of the people--offerings which unfortunately are often not really noticed except as the money, and that's often whisked away rather than placed on the holy table--thanks the holy one for them, remembering the actions of christ's incarnation as the model for the sanctification of all our lives, and then gives them back to the people. (i would add that a priest never stops being laity, a member of the people of god, a status given in baptism; the priest's job is a particular part of the work of the people--the liturgy).

in gallagher's book she experiencees priestliness in a situation that surprises her. at a book store, she receives help from a clerk. she is profoundly thankful for the help, acknowledging it with gestures and attention, giving back to the clerk their time together with a recognition of the holiness that is our true nature. this is the job of a priest. taking what the world has, giving thanks for it, giving it back with the acknowledgement that the holy one is making all things new.

this is how forgiveness works. things, actions, persons who have become tarnished by sin are made new by giving them to the holy one and receiving them back. there is nothing too tarnished, too distorted by sin, that the holy one cannot redeem them. the priest is empowered, ordained, set apart, to proclaim that that redemption, that forgiveness. it takes the whole people of god to make eucharist. each member has a role. all of the people bring something--most importantly, ourselves, our souls and bodiiwa. the priest leads us all in thanksgiving and gives it back, forgiven..

so, i wake up a priest, looking for what the world is offering today, giving thanks for it, and giving it back forgiven. as i finish writing this little post it's nine o'clock at night, and time for me to think over the day and give thanks for it again.

now of course the whole people of god, the whole body of christ, are a priestly people, a royal priesthood. so i invite you to join me this night and each night in giving thanks. you might consider this thanksgiving, written by an english priest during a time of great turmoil, as a start:

almighty god, father of all mercies,
we your unworthy servants give you humble thanks
for all your goodness and loving-kindness
to us and to all whom you have made.
we bless you for our creation, preservation,
and all the blessings of this life;
but above all for your immeasurable love
in the redemption of the world by our lord jesus christ;
for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory.
and, we pray, give us such an awareness of your mercies,
that with truly thankful hearts we may show forth your praise,
not only with our lips, but in our lives,
by giving up our selves to your service,
and by walking before you
in holiness and righteousness all our days;
through jesus christ our lord,
to whom, with you and the holy spirit,
be honor and glory throughout all ages. amen.

it seems to be a helpful way of looking at the parts of the day that we might have chosen to avoid as becoming part of "all the blessings of this life" as we give them to the holy one in thanksgiving.

all saints

especially in modern america, where religious holidays have been reduced to consumerism for children, it is easy to lose track of the close connection between all saints day and pentecost. but the connection is real, and important. in the eastern church all saints day is the sunday after pentecost; in the west it is six months from pentecost, the other pole of the axis of the holy spirit at work in the church.

at pentecost we celebrate the first coming of the holy spirit; at all saints we celebrate the continuing coming of the holy spirit into the lives of all believers.

so, how might we celebrate this most wonderful feast? i suggest we might take some clues from the instructions our lord gave the first very small group of believers: wait and pray. so tonight i some friends and i are going to gather together and wait, praying with the saints who have gone before, waiting for the spirit which opens our eyes to see the great cloud of witnesses which surround us.

who are we, this small group of friends in one room and the great cloud of witnesses which john in the revelation reading for the feast says is "a great multitude no one could count?" perhaps we would well to see how they are described in the psalm for the feast:

"i will alway give thanks unto the lord
his praise shall ever be in my mouth.
my soul shall make her boast in the lord
the humble shall hear thereof, and be glad.
o praise the lord with me
and let us magnify his name together.
I sought the lord, and he heard me
yea, he delivered me out of all my fear.
they had an eye unto him, and were lightened
and their faces were not ashamed.
lo, the poor crieth, and the lord heareth him
yea, and saveth him out of all his troubles.
the angel of the lord tarrieth round about them that fear him
and delivereth them.
o taste, and see, how gracious the lord is
blessed is the man that trusteth in him.
o fear the lord, ye that are his saints
for they that fear him lack nothing.
the lions do lack, and suffer hunger
but they who seek the lord shall want no manner of thing that is good.
come, ye children, and hearken unto me
i will teach you the fear of the lord.
what man is he that lusteth to live
and would fain see good days?
keep thy tongue from evil
and thy lips, that they speak no guile.
eschew evil, and do good
seek peace, and ensue it.
the eyes of the lord are over the righteous
and his ears are open unto their prayers.
the countenance of the lord is against them that do evil
to root out the remembrance of them from the earth.
the righteous cry, and the lord heareth them
and delivereth them out of all their troubles.
the lord is nigh unto them that are of a contrite heart
and will save such as be of an humble spirit.
great are the troubles of the righteous
but the lord delivereth him out of all.
he keepeth all his bones
so that not one of them is broken.
but misfortune shall slay the ungodly
and they that hate the righteous shall be desolate.
the lord delivereth the souls of his servants
and all they that put their trust in him shall not be destitute. (psalm 34, coverdale translation)

a flagrant emdorsement of the psalter

from dallas willard's the divine conspiracy: "if your bury yourself in psalms, you emerge knowing god and understanding life." (p. 65)

parochialism re-invented

i had the honour to be present last evening at the "kick-off event" for a new "church plant," which in this case took the plant metaphor seriously, with an image of a banyon tree: northwest community church.

although much of their theology i might consider far from orthodox, mainly in terms of their intense concentration on the second person of the trinity, a concentration which seems shared by much current american protestantism, there is a part of their understanding of what it means to be church that is i think very important and very orthodox and which more of the church could learn from them with benefit.

northwest community church wants to be a church in and for and with the community. the church poured out, to put words in their mouth, or in the mouth of the pastor, for the life of the world. once upon a time, before the church saw herself as so splintered, the church in constantinopole or rome or alexandria or salisbury organized herself into parishes, and saw the care of the souls within each parish as her pastoral duty. we might call this the good old days. and it seems that northwest community church is calling us again to good days. let us pray they will succeed "beyond what we can hope for or imagine."

on the reading of books: a flagrant advertisement for the daily office

i suspect that you know several people who are "short for time," who have trouble finding enough hours in a day to do all the things they want to do. perhaps you are one of those people. i have friends in that category, and i am always a bit saddened to find that they are reading books about the problems of the world but do not find time for the daily office. you know the sorts of books they're reading: jared diamond's works, or naomi klein's; the books of people who have a firm grasp of the obvious, and who have the footnotes to prove it.

my plea, my flagrant advertisement for the daily office, is that one would do much better to read books that have a firm grasp of the sometimes-not-so-obvious, but who have the testimony of the church to prove it: the books of scripture which we are encouraged to read in the daily office.

those of us who follow the two-year cycle of readings that is recommended by most of the church in north america are just finishing up micah. this is a quote from this morning's reading:

"he hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?
the Lords voice crieth unto the city, and the man of wisdom shall see thy name: hear ye the rod, and who hath appointed it.
are there yet the treasures of wickedness in the house of the wicked, and the scant measure that is abominable?
shall I count them pure with the wicked balances, and with the bag of deceitful weights?
for the rich men thereof are full of violence, and the inhabitants thereof have spoken lies, and their tongue is deceitful in their mouth.
therefore also will i make thee sick in smiting thee, in making thee desolate because of thy sins.
thou shalt eat, but not be satisfied; and thy casting down shall be in the midst of thee; and thou shalt take hold, but shalt not deliver; and that which thou deliverest will I give up to the sword.
thou shalt sow, but thou shalt not reap; thou shalt tread the olives, but thou shalt not anoint thee with oil; and sweet wine, but shalt not drink wine.
for the statutes of omri are kept, and all the works of the house of ahab, and ye walk in their counsels; that i should make thee a desolation, and the inhabitants thereof an hissing: therefore ye shall bear the reproach of my people. (amos 6:8-16)

not only does it, as northrup frye says prophets always do, describe what is always true, but it starts rather than ends with the prescription for correction of the problem. since of the making of books there is no end, why not start by reading the best? books aren't read for 2600 years because they're of merely historical interest.

the mystery of faith and the election

each sunday in the liturgy, "we proclaim the mystery of faith: christ has died, christ is risen, christ will come again." this "proclamation" is not i suspect something we think very much about, although it certainly merits consideration.

i have been asking "self-professing, practicing christian " friends this question the past few days: "what is the best-case scenario you see for the next five years. i keep hoping someone will answer in terms of the mystery of faith, or in terms of what we all pray each day when we say, "your kingdom come." but i have been considerably disappointed that so far the answers have all been in terms of who is hoped to win the next u. s. presidential election and why that wouldn't be so bad as it would be if the other candidate won.

so i wonder which we have lost, the mystery or the faith? or both?

on the current meltdown of the american greedonomy: 'nuff said

". . . as in the days that were before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that noe entered into the ark, and knew not until the flood came, and took them all away." (matthew 24:38-39)

26 september: lancelot andrewes

lancelot andrewes is much more influential than most of us know: as the chairman of the old testament group for the translation of the bible authorized by king james i of england, it is he who almost certainly is responsible for the creation stories in genesis with which we are all so familiar.

i am celebrating his day by reading a wonderful book about genesis as i
struggle with the story of cain and abel for my slow work on my blog the ring of the lord. there is a lot to chew on in the first brother story. it encourages me that leon r. cass work on the beginning of wisdom: reading genesis for 25 years. perhaps i can be excused a little slowness in my work.

it all makes the mere seven years that it took the translators of the authorized version the more impressive.

feasts, suppers & banquets

reading the book of judith in the daily office this past week has made me think of the importance of feasts, banquets and suppers in scripture. the judith story brings up images of other meals which figure into the story of the holy one's saving us from our own rebellious and gluttonous ways: esther, of course; but also in a rather inverse way, john the baptist and salome; belshazzar's feast and the last supper; the feeding stories in the gospels and the fish grill on the lake shore that ends john's gospel.

one of the most insightful books about sacramental theology i have ever read is alexander schmemann's for the life of the world, which begins with the phrase, "we are what we eat." "what we eat." not "what i eat." for christians eating, like all of our lives, is a communal activity. even if we seem to be alone, we are eating with all the people and plants and animals and rain and wind and sun along the food chain leading all the way back to creation.

i haven't begun to puzzle out all i hope to learn from this circle of thought, but i found it interesting enough to point it out. maybe you can help me understand it better.

the fall ember days: cleansing lepers

my experiences with "the church" the past few days has made me think about john's disciples' question to jesus: "'are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for somebody else?' jesus answered, 'go back and tell john what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor, and happy is the man who does ot lose faith in me.'" (matthew 11:2-5)

but of course these days when we as the church are asked this question, our answers tends to be about pedigree and propriety. i am as guilty as anyone. when asked about this malabar rite, thing, my first answer is usually a little lecture in church history, the point of which is to prove that my "apostolic succession" is as old and as "valid" as anyone's. only if pressed do i say that my archbishop, who ordained me, is almost entirely unconcerned with theological orthodoxy. yet when a few years ago when i considered "transferring my credentials" to a part of the church with which i am in closer "theological agreement," i quickly thought better of it. you see, my archbishop radiates the principal that "they will know that we are christians by our love."

the fall ember days are the wednesday, friday and saturday after holy cross day. this is one of the four times of the year when those of us who are ordained are encouraged to take stock of how we are doing, and to report in to our bishops. i find that i have a long way to go. but i think i'm asking at least some of the right questions. "what do we see and hear? do the blind see again? do the lame walk? are lepers cleansed? do the deaf hear? are the dead raised to life? is the good news proclaimed to the poor?"

17 september: hildegard von bingen

i "met" hildegard in the form of a copy of some of her music in a library at memphis state university. i remember looking at it and thinking, how beautiful, but how unsingable. shortly after that "a feather on the breath of god came out, and hildegard began another career.

it seems best to let her speak for herself.

simple disobedience

the words are those of "the apostles and elders", and they came up in the daily office a few days ago:

". . . it has seemed good to the holy spirit and to us to impose on you no further burden than these essentials: that you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from fornication. if you keep yourselves from these, you will do well." (acts 15:28-29)

many times we have read this passage, the conclusion of what we sometimes call the council of jerusalem, the first synod of the emerging church of the first century, and we have described them as freeing us gentiles from the requirements of the laws of moses.

we do a good job, for the most part, of not following the mosaic law from which we have been released. seldom, however, do we notice that the council of jerusalem did leave us with some restrictions: "to abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from fornication."

it strikes me that we do very poorly these days in observing these restrictions.

most of the food we eat has been sacrificed to the idol of cheapest-for-me-damn-the-results-for-anyone-else.

every day the weapons bought and operated by our taxes shed the blood of the (mostly) innocent throughout the world (not that jesus has suggested it is our job to decide who are the guilty and to shed their blood).

the commandment against food that is strangled is certainly violated in spirit if not in the letter itself in almost everything we eat from the chicken and cattle and pork food factories that provide us with our cheap-to-us food.

and it is hardly possible to go through the check-out lines at the stores selling the strangled food without noticing the popularity of fornication. if we do not commit it ourselves in fact, it constitutes some of our most popular "amusements."

should it surprise us if we do not "do well?"

who am i? the 16th sunday after pentecost a.d.2008

yesterday's propers were an embarassment of riches: moses and the burning bush, wonderful exhortation to a loving life from paul, and jesus' rebuke of peter, whom he had just called a rock on which the church would be built, but whom he now reminds, as he reminds us, that disciples of christ must deny themsselves and take their our cross and follow him. the temptation to the preacher, and also to the blogger, is to try to exhaust these readings in one year. at least one reading a blog can stop to argue or consider.

lately i have heard a lot of sermons talking about moses as a murderer, a wanted man, who has fled egypt to escape prosecution. but i suspect it was not a crisis for moses because he has killed a man that led him to flea to midian. if indeed he had been raised as the pharoah's grandson, such a crime could probably be overlooked. if he were found out to be a hebrew, however, the situation would be very different.

it is in the context of self-identity that i find these readings so challenging, especially coming as they do after jesus' question last week of "who do people say that the son of man is?" we are only able to know who we are if we first recognize who jesus is. moses had been able to identify with the empire, with the people in power. now he recognizes that his true identity lies with those who are enslaved, with those whose labor had provided the wealth he enjoyed.

often when we speak of "our cross," we think of abusive husbands or sick relatives. these are, i find,very different situations from what jesus must mean when he says "if any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me." jesus, by taking up the cross, took on the suffering of the world. and it seems we are called to do no less. we must deny ourselves. we are not called to send a check to the suffering from time to time, but to join them. our identity as followers of christ jesus does not derive from those who claim power and glory, whether they call themselves pharoah or king or president. rather our identity is given us in baptism by the true king of glory, about whom we many of us each friday pray this collect:

"almighty god, whose most dear son went not up to joy but
first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he
was crucified: mercifully grant that we, walking in the way
of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and
peace; through jesus christ our lord. amen."

let us not forget who, and whose, we truly are.