The Mid-Week Missive is based on Community Rules: An Episcopal Manual by Ian Markham and Kathryn Glover, both administrators at Virginia Theological Seminary. I am working my way through this book, reading and writing  through the lens of our Life Together as part of the Christ the King Episcopal Church family, as well as part of the Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast. 

Rule #10: Learn to Forgive. Markham and Glover’s reflection on this rule can be found in their book, which can be purchased here. 

How does this rule apply to our Life Together at Christ the King? Last week, we discussed the discipline of apologizing, or “making things right.” The faithful response to an apology is forgiveness, which is what we are called to explore this week. If we attend worship and/or pray the Daily Office regularly, we say (or sing) these words with regularity – “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” The central prayer of the Christian faith addresses forgiveness in an interesting way because we petition God to forgive us, under the condition of or the assumption that we ourselves forgive others. Perhaps it is living in confidence that we are forgiven by God empowers us to then forgive others. Forgiveness – like love - can be contagious if we allow it to be.

But forgiveness can be terribly difficult work. Just like apologies, forgiveness needs to be genuine, authentic, and self-sacrificing. False apologies and forgiveness are grounded in cheap grace whereas true reconciliation values the restoration of self and the other.

Just as apologies can take time, so can forgiveness. The work of the Holy Spirit can be slow – frustratingly so at times. So we remember that the two-fold work of apology and forgiveness isn’t always fast, but, if taken seriously, is worth the work and the wait.

My prayer for us at Christ the King is that as we live our life together in Christ, we can be a church community that apologizes well and forgives well. Such a charism is one that can sustain us as a healthy church family for generations to come.

Eastertide blessings and peace,

Richard+

The Mid-Week Missive is based on Community Rules: An Episcopal Manual by Ian Markham and Kathryn Glover, both administrators at Virginia Theological Seminary. I am working my way through this book, reading and writing  through the lens of our Life Together as part of the Christ the King Episcopal Church family, as well as part of the Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast. 

Rule #9: Never Be Afraid to Apologize. Markham and Glover’s reflection on this rule can be found in their book, which can be purchased here. 

How does this rule apply to our Life Together at Christ the King? This week, I attended a workshop for Treehouse parents called “Positive Discipline.” The topic of apologies came up, and one of the teachers pointed out that simply requiring a child to say “I’m sorry” to another child whom he/she has hurt isn’t sufficient. An inauthentic, coerced apology simply falls flat. In addition to, or even in lieu of “I’m sorry,” there must be an invitation by the offending child to “make it right.” So, rather than just saying “I’m sorry,” one might say, “I’m sorry I knocked over the tower you just built. Can I help you put it back together?” In other words, “I messed up. I apologize. How can I make it right?” The answer might be, “Just go away from me for a little while so I can cool off.” And that is ok. But the invitation to “make it right” will undoubtedly bring the relationship closer to reconciliation than just an apology.

Of course, this example of “positive discipline” for children applies to adults as well. The practice of paying reparations for the sins of past generations is politically controversial, but no doubt it is one way that folks are being invited to do more than just apologize, but to also “make it right.”

On a personal level, I am at a place in my life where I feel like I owe more apologies and “making it right” than ever before. As a husband and parent I am in more important, meaningful relationships than when I was just flying solo. People who I love deeply need, expect, and deserve me to fulfill my role as husband and parent with integrity, consistency, and love. And alas, I fail at that pretty regularly. I have become really good at apologizing. But do I “make it right” after I apologize? Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t. But “making it right” isn’t just good, “positive discipline,” it is the very essence of Christianity – the relationship between God and humankind being “made right” through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Thanks be to God!

Eastertide blessings and peace,

Richard+

Utter nonsense. Empty gossip. Garbage. That is how the eleven disciples reacted to the news that the women brought to them on the morning of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. Most English translations of St. Luke’s gospel use the term “idle tale” – as in, “these words seemed to them an idle tale.” But to our modern ears, this translation falls a little flat. It doesn't quite communicate the  incredulity of the disciples’ reaction to the women. Some lexicons actually use “garbage” as the more accurate translation. Imagine that – the news of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead being likened to garbage.

 Who can blame them? Those who abandoned Jesus, and hid out when he was being tried and crucified, had seen crucifixions before. It doesn’t get any more dead than that. And in those days, death was not nearly as sanitized and private as it is now. People were used to seeing, touching, and smelling death. It was a part of their everyday lives. So they knew the power and the finality of death. And their experience told them that nobody beats death…not even Jesus.

Though we are less in touch with death in our context today, we still know and have experienced its power. Centuries upon centuries of history hasn’t changed the fact that we human beings have a natural fear of death. So humankind throughout the ages has spent a great deal of energy trying to protect ourselves from death. And that is not necessarily a bad thing. Good health and safety are prudent goals to seek. We go to the doctor, wear seatbelts, follow laws and regulations, and invest in law enforcement and military to promote safety and well-being. These can all be good things.

But what is not a good thing is for us to make an idol of death. It is not a good thing for us to hold death in such high regard that we come to believe that it is the ruler of all beings…that it is more powerful than life.

But the Easter narrative – the Christian narrative – tells us that it is death who should really be afraid. Imagine that…death being afraid of life! Theologian Jason Byassee points out that the Easter story proclaims that “life is more nimble, more alive, more disruptive than death. After Jesus’ resurrection, no tomb is safe. No domain is marked only by death. Life…[not death]…reigns [eternal].”

So the real utter nonsense…the true garbage…is the belief that death had the last word over Jesus, and that death has the last word over us. And while we are talking about nonsense, some might think that I’m crazy for doing this, but I’d like for us all to pull out our Prayer Books and turn to page 491. When you get to that page, you might think that I’m mistaken…why would he have us turn to the burial office on Easter Sunday?! But I lament the fact that the only time we hear these profound words of resurrected life in Christ is at a funeral. The news is simply too good to relegate only to times of grief. So I’d like for us to join together is saying the opening anthem for the burial rite:

I am Resurrection and I am Life, says the Lord.
Whoever has faith in me shall have life,
even though he die.
And everyone who has life,
and has committed himself to me in faith,
shall not die for ever.
 
As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives
and that at the last he will stand upon the earth. 
After my awaking, he will raise me up;
and in my body I shall see God.
I myself shall see, and my eyes behold him
who is my friend and not a stranger.
 
For none of us has life in himself,
and none becomes his own master when he dies. 
For if we have life, we are alive in the Lord, 
and if we die, we die in the Lord.
So, then, whether we live or die,
we are the Lord's possession.

Happy from now on
are those who die in the Lord!
So it is, says the Spirit,
for they rest from their labors.

St. Augustine of Hippo declared that “we are an Easter people…and alleluia is our cry.” Let us go out into the world singing our alleluias and channeling our love and actions towards living and proclaiming life in Christ. Imagine a world where abundant life in Christ was the primary narrative. Death would indeed tremble with fear.

Holy Week involves quite a few processions. We walk a lot…we pray with our bodies. It started with the Palm procession last Sunday, walking and waving palm fronds and shouting “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord: Hosanna in the Highest!” We were re-membering and embodying the celebration of Jesus entering the city of Jerusalem at the time of the Passover Festival. Redemption was near, but in a very different way than they – or we – could have ever imagined.

Then on Maundy Thursday, we processed to the front of the church to wash one another’s feet, just as Jesus did to his disciples on the evening of the Last Supper. This was a much more subdued, solemn procession than the one on Palm Sunday. Redemption was drawing near, but as Jesus shared at the Last Supper, this redemption would look very different from what the disciples – or we - could have ever imagined.

After the Good Friday service yesterday, we processed through the Stations of the Cross, recalling in vivid detail the events surrounding Jesus’ trial, torture, crucifixion, and death. Indeed, this procession couldn’t have been more different from the one we had engaged at the beginning of this week. In a matter of five days, we had gone from pure jubilation to utter agony.

This evening, the processions continue. First, we gathered in the courtyard to light the fire that would lead us away from the darkness of death and towards the light of resurrection. Then we processed through the story of salvation history, beginning at the beginning, and continuing all the way through the reason that we are here – the Resurrection of our Lord.

But the procession doesn’t end with Christ’s resurrection from the dead. In a few moments, we will process to the baptismal font, and graft Fenleigh Olive Thomas into Christ’s very own Body – the Church. Though she is too young to understand what is happening this evening, the context of her entry into the Church is profound. She is being baptized into all of these stories, all of these people, all of these processions. These stories now become her story. These people are now her people.

But the procession to the font and her baptism is not the last procession. Just as Christ’s story continues well after his bodily resurrection from the dead, so too will Fenleigh’s story continue after this evening. After this evening’s service, Thomas family will join us in processing into the world carrying and sharing the Good News that Jesus Christ is Lord, and death had no dominion over him, and death has no dominion over us. As a baptized Christian, her life will be a rich procession of love and service of the Lord and for the Lord. The Good News for her is that she doesn’t have to walk this journey alone. She will be baptized into a Body – Christ’s body – and she will have her fellow Christians by her side as she makes her procession through her life in Christ. And she will also have Christ by her side, every step of the way. Thanks be to God for Fenleigh Olive Thomas, our newest fellow sojourner on our journey into resurrected life in Jesus Christ!

It’s too bad that over the course of our 3-year lectionary cycle, the only Sunday when today’s passage from Paul’s letter to the Philippians is assigned to us is Passion Sunday. This passage is one of the most well-known and most beloved in all of the New Testament, and for good reason. But given that it is paired with the Passion Gospel – and only on every 3rd year – we rarely if ever get to hear a sermon on Philippians 2. And that’s a shame, because in this passage, Paul lays out for us the character of Jesus that we are called to imitate.

The Rev’d Barbara Brown Taylor remarks that on Passion Sunday, if you want the full details of Jesus’ arrest, arraignment, torture, and death, see today’s Gospel lesson. But if you want to see the mind of Christ – the attitude that determined Jesus’ actions every day of his life, including the last day, see today’s epistle lesson. See Philippians 2.

Taylor points out that the first half of the passage is full of verbs describing the actions of Jesus. He:

·      Emptied himself

·      Took the form of a slave

·      Humbled himself

·      Became obedient

And these actions were not random or spontaneous. Taylor reminds us that they arose from the Christ-mind – the way he saw himself in relationship to God and to the world. Paul articulates this in verse 5  when he says, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”

I think that what Paul is getting at isn’t a call to have the same intellectual capacity as Jesus. But rather, Taylor sees it as the “total evacuation of the ego so that there would be room for God to dwell and act.”  She then goes on to observe that the verbs that we looked at in the first half of the passage – emptied, humbled, took form of slave, became obedient – all belong to Jesus. But the first verbs in the second half of the passage all belong to God the Father. God was able to act - to highly exalt Jesus and give him the name that is above every name – because Jesus made room for God to act. Jesus made himself an empty vessel so that he could be filled with and by his Father in heaven. As such, when Jesus acted, it was God who was acting in and through him.

So when we read and hear the horrific story of Christ’s passion and death, we are better able to make sense of it if we have Paul’s observations to guide us. The Gospel lessons that we hear today and for the remainder of Holy Week all point to a Christ who emptied and humbled himself so that God could dwell and act within him. We will experience this self-emptying on Maundy Thursday when Jesus washes the feet of his disciples and institutes the Last Supper. And we will see it again on Good Friday. In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he is trying to help them – and us – make sense of Jesus’ scandalously self-emptying life, death, and resurrection.

During this season of Lent, we have been practicing this discipline of Christ like self-emptying – we have been putting on the mind of Christ in various ways.

·      Joy in Confession Group: This group has been meeting on Wednesdays for Noonday Prayer and then reading and discussing the book “Joy in Confession: Reclaiming Sacramental Reconciliation.” Much of this book focuses on how through the sacrament of reconciliation, we are invited to engage in the process of emptying ourselves of any shame or guilt we are carrying, so that we can make room for God’s reconciling love in Jesus Christ. Of course, God is active and present in the emptying process as well. But the fruit of redemption always involves the good work of emptying of ourselves of the old so that we can make room for the new creation in Christ Jesus.

·      Centering Prayer Group: On Thursdays, our Centering Prayer group has been wrestling with the challenge of emptying our busy, thought-filled minds during the 20-minute period of Centering Prayer. The goal of this ancient prayer form is to discipline ourselves to empty ourselves of our numerous thoughts that clutter our minds, so that we can make room for God to dwell within us. As God occupies that space in our own selves, we begin to bear the fruit of a God-filled self, and we share that with others.

·      Youth 30 Hour Famine: This weekend, our 5th-12 graders engaged in a literal act of self-emptying. Beginning Friday afternoon, they came to the church for a 30-Hour Famine lock-in. They fasted from food for 30 Hours while they learned about hunger and poverty throughout the world. On Saturday, they cleaned up the exterior grounds of the Senior Center in our neighborhood, and then they volunteered at another neighboring non-profit. So our teenagers are modeling for us self-sacrificing love for others.

These practices are ways that we can begin to allow God to work on, in, and through us. I pointed out earlier that the verbs in verses 5-8 belong to Jesus, and the verbs in verse 9 belong to God. But note that in verses 10 and 11, the verbs don’t belong to Jesus or God…they belong to us. When we empty ourselves as Christ did, and make room for God to dwell within us, we don’t merely become passive recipients of God’s work. We become God’s work in the world around us. We become so filled with God that in all that we are and all that we do, we are initiating and reflecting the mind of Christ. And as such, “at the name of Jesus, every knee should bend on heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.” Thanks be to God!

The Mid-Week Missive is based on Community Rules: An Episcopal Manual by Ian Markham and Kathryn Glover, both administrators at Virginia Theological Seminary.  I am working my way through this book, reading and writing  through the lens of our Life Together as part of the Christ the King Episcopal Church family, as well as part of the Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast. 

Rule #8: Everyone Has a Part to Play in the Body of Christ. Markham and Glover’s reflection on this rule can be found in their book, which can be purchased here. 

How does this rule apply to our Life Together at Christ the King? This Rule is essentially a paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 12:27-27 – St. Paul’s remarkable metaphor for the Church. In their reflection on Rule #8, Markham and Glover succinctly and appropriately say, “Everyone has a ministry by virtue of our baptism. All roles are important, especially those that are less visible. We are all called by God to find our role and to play that role.” (p. 19)

Like many (or most?) churches, we at Christ the King struggle with the age-old challenge of a small percentage of folks doing the bulk of the “work” for the church. This lopsided dynamic is true for “time and talent” stewardship (vestry, altar and flower guilds, outreach commission, worship leadership, etc.) as well as financial stewardship. But I try not to get too caught up in trying to “level the playing field.” While I’d love for the “work” of the church to be more evenly spread out among all our members, I also recognize that there are seasons for how, what, and when we are able to give of our selves.

We are all called to give in some way…as the rule says, “Everyone has a part to play in the body of Christ.” But the actual part that we play in the body will likely shift as the circumstances in our lives change. So really, we may have several parts to play, just not all at one time.

One key for us as we seek to be a thriving, healthy, well-rounded parish is to make sure that everyone feels invited to share their gifts, whatever those gifts may be. Another key is for everyone to be invited to step back from one area of ministry to focus on another. No one person can or should have to “carry” a particular ministry of the church forever.

So, if you currently feel like you are not playing an active part in the body at Christ the King, I want to hear from you. I want to know how we can better invite and incorporate you into the many ministries here at CtK. On the flip side, if you currently feel like you are juggling too many parts in your life here at CtK, I want to hear from you as well. A healthy body is a well-balanced, well-rested body.

Pax,

Richard+

What is an appropriate way to thank somebody for raising you – or someone you love – from the dead?

 Well, if Lazarus, Mary, and Martha were anything like you or me, they had never been faced with this sort of question before, and were probably a little dumbfounded with the question of what to do for Jesus, who had just raised Lazarus from the dead. 

 Apparently, they decided that the best thing that they could do was to host an intimate dinner party for Jesus and one of his friends. And for those of us who have hosted a party before, we all know that one of the most difficult things to do is to narrow down the guest list. How many people should we invite? Where and at whom do we cut off the list?

 Lazarus, Mary, and Martha obviously decided – whether for practical reasons or not – to keep the list small, and just invite Jesus and a friend.  Now if Jesus had been married, or if he had a significant other, the friend part would have been easy. “Jesus, we’d like for you and your wife to join us for dinner.” But as far as we know, Jesus didn’t have a wife or a significant other, so perhaps they just simply said, “Jesus, we’d to have you over for dinner…bring a friend…maybe one of your disciples.”

 And of all of Jesus’ friends and disciples to choose from, isn’t it odd that Jesus invited Judas. I wonder what Lazarus, Mary, and Martha thought, when they were expecting Jesus to show up with Peter or James or John, when he instead showed up with Judas Iscariot. But we all know that Jesus was drawn to the outsider. And of the twelve disciples, Judas was becoming just that – the one on the periphery. Perhaps Jesus invited him to give him the opportunity to be with three people who had seen, experienced, and been transformed by resurrection. Perhaps it was Judas who needed it the most.

 Last week, we heard the parable of the Prodigal Son, where the deeper issue that the older son faced wasn’t his anger and resentment but his inability to recognize new life when he saw it. He came face-to-face with resurrection, and he missed it entirely.  The father, on the other hand, had done the hard work of working through his anger and grief so that when resurrection finally entered into his midst, he was ready to embrace it.

 So perhaps Jesus used this dinner party as an opportunity to expose Judas to light in the midst of darkness.  Life out of death.  A new creation. 

 I find it interesting that in our story today, two people remain completely silent – Lazarus and Martha. But the fact that we hear nothing from Lazarus or Martha tells me that this story isn’t supposed to be about them. It is about Mary and Judas, and how they respond to resurrection, and how they respond to God in their midst.

 Mary responds with what Judas – and what many of us – would call wasteful extravagance. And I think that on one hand, Judas asks a fair question.  The amount of perfume that Mary used to anoint Jesus’ feet would cost what would amount to about 10 months’ pay for a common worker or soldier. So we can’t immediately throw Judas under the bus for raising an eyebrow at such extravagance. One of the critiques of the Church today includes the hypocrisy of proclaiming how we care for the poor while we spend so much money on buildings, infrastructure, salaries, and pensions.

 This reminds me of an annual parish meeting that we had at Epiphany Episcopal - the church I attended when I lived in Atlanta. After the presentation of the annual budget, the Rector opened up the floor for questions or comments. This situation provided me with one of the best learning moments I have ever had in church. A parishioner stood up and said, “When my wife and I are trying to decide which charitable organizations we should donate to each year, we make our decision based on the percentage of the donations that actually go to the mission of the organization itself versus the percentage that goes towards overhead and administration.” He had a number that he gave as the benchmark for what was a worthy organization to donate to – say, $.90 of every $1.00 must go directly to the mission itself. He then went on to say, “Based on this criteria for our charitable giving, we should NOT be giving to Epiphany. Only 10% of Epiphany’s annual budget goes towards outreach and mission. And look at all of this overhead –buildings, maintenance, salaries! This budget is an absolute disaster, and my wife and I are going to have to think really hard about whether or not we will continue to give to this church. Nobody who knows anything about charitable giving would see Epiphany’s budget and deem it a worthy cause to give to.” 

 I remember thinking to myself that this was a pretty good observation – like the one Judas had made about the perfume - and I was glad that the man had the courage to stand up and mention it to the rector in from of the whole congregation. I’ll also never forget the answer that the rector gave. 

 He said, “You are absolutely correct. If you are looking to donate money to a charitable organization, we are a horrible choice. And I’d recommend that you donate elsewhere. But the thing is – we are NOT a charitable organization. We are a church. We are the living body of Christ in the world – flawed, broken, yet committed to following Christ and allowing our encounters with Christ to transform us, so that we can then share the love of Christ with our neighbors. We baptize, confirm, educate, and nurture our children as they navigate childhood and adolescence towards young adulthood. If and when they find a life partner, we counsel them and invite them into the sacrament of marriage, covenanting to support and nurture them in their life together. We administer the sacraments – visible signs of God in our midst. We visit the sick, the elderly, and the lonely. When people die, we proclaim that death doesn’t have the last word as we celebrate their life and the resurrection. And hopefully we do many more things for a whole host of folks - both inside and outside our walls – throughout all the stages of their lives. But no, we are NOT a charitable, social service organization. And the minute that is all that the church becomes is the minute that I will quit being a priest.” I don’t know if that man who asked the question was satisfied, but I sure was.

 I don’t think that the Prodigal Son’s older brother, or Judas, or that man at Epiphany were inherently bad people. I even think that they asked fair questions. Their flaws were that they were too busy counting. They were too busy keeping score. And while they were trying so hard to determine what was fair or prudent or even righteous, they failed to recognize God in their midst. After all, hadn’t that man at Epiphany just finished taking communion at the worship service prior to the annual meeting? Hadn’t he tasted the living God just minutes before? New life – resurrection - was staring him, the older brother, and Judas straight in the eyes, yet they saw right through it in their search for another sort of righteousness.

 We have noted that this Lenten journey is among many things a journey of transformation. Our Lenten practices and disciplines shouldn’t be an end, but a means that stimulates growth and transformation. While the Prodigal son and his father were deeply transformed by their respective journeys, the older son remained stuck, and never experienced transformation.  Mary went from being mad at Jesus for not healing Lazarus when he was sick to dropping to her knees and in an act of wasteful, extravagant love, anointing the feet of Jesus with a pound of expensive ointment. She experienced resurrection in her brother Lazarus. And she was able to see the source of that resurrection when it came in her midst. If she had had two, three, or four pounds of ointment, I have no doubt that she would have used it all on Jesus, because she wasn’t keeping count. 

 By embracing his wayward son, and by celebrating with an extravagant party, the prodigal’s father was inviting his older son to see, feel, and taste resurrection. By inviting Judas to accompany him at Mary, Martha, and Lazarus’ house, Jesus was inviting Judas to see, feel, taste, even smell resurrection. But Judas didn’t make room in his inner self to be transformed by this encounter. Like the older brother, he remained stuck.  And if you’re like me, it is easy to get caught up in keeping score. It is easy to get stuck.  Hopefully for us, as we draw nearer to the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ; as we draw nearer to Golgotha, and we draw nearer to the tomb, our Lenten journey will have prepared us so that when the stone is rolled away, we might see, feel, taste, and smell new life in our midst.

The Mid-Week Missive is based on Community Rules: An Episcopal Manual by Ian Markham and Kathryn Glover, both administrators at Virginia Theological Seminary.  I am working my way through this book, reading and writing  through the lens of our Life Together as part of the Christ the King Episcopal Church family, as well as part of the Diocese of the Central Gulf Coast. 

We now are moving on to Section II: Basic Christian Rules in Relationship. Markham and Glover offer this introduction to Section II: “The first six rules are the fundamentals. They are an intrinsic part of the Christian worldview. In [Section II], we apply these rules to our relationships with each other. In particular, this is the application of the second rule: remember people are made in the image of God.”

Rule # 7: We Are All Family…Some of Us Are Friends. Markham and Glover’s reflection on this rule can be found in their book, which can be purchased here. 

How does this rule apply to our Life Together at Christ the King? Most - if not all - of us prefer to be with our friends. We play tennis, cards, or music, go to the gym or beach, and break bread with those with whom we share common interests and affections.

But what about church? Do we – or should we – choose our church based on our friendships? Some do and some don’t. It depends on what someone is looking for in a church. If a primary consideration for someone’s choice of church is fellowship and community, then some will choose their church based on existing friendships or the hope for new friendships. However, if someone is primarily interested in Sunday worship – hearing the Word preached/proclaimed, offering prayers, receiving absolution from sin, and receiving the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood, they may have no interest in or expectation for friendship at church. Neither of the above motives are better than the other, and I think that most of us are motivated by both of them. It doesn’t have to be either/or.

But regardless of what our primary motive for being a part of Christ the King is, what is not really a matter of choice or preference is the fact that through our baptisms, we are family. We are all members of Christ’s Body – the Church – and we have been called to live out this “familyhood of Christ” in the particular context of Christ the King. Our context is unique in that most of us are 1st Generation members of the CtK family. Ours is a relatively new church, and we don’t have generations of local family patterns, habits, and rituals to ground us in our life together here. So we are a young family, establishing those local patterns, habits, and rituals that ground us here and now, but will also serve as the foundation for future generations to come. And that reality is profoundly significant to me.

 My hope is that many of us have found or will find deep, meaningful friendships in their time here at Christ the King. But even more than that, my hope is that we experience and embody the familyhood of Christ’s Body here at CtK. This Christian family bond – born through baptism and nurtured through Holy Eucharist - runs deeper and stronger than even the best of friendships. Thanks be to God for those friends that we may have here at Christ the King. But even more, thanks be to God for our Church family at Christ the King. See you at our weekly family reunion this Sunday!

Pax,

Richard+

During the Season of Lent, a group of young adults/adults with young children and I have been reading and discussing the Rev’d MaryAnn McKibben Dana’s book “Sabbath in the Suburbs: A Family’s Experiment with Holy Time.” After MaryAnn and her husband Robert discovered that she was pregnant with their third child, they decided to take a pilgrimage to the Iona Community in Scotland to prayerfully discern how they might make their busy, overscheduled, overprogrammed lives more manageable.

 MaryAnn (a seminary classmate and friend of mine) is a Presbyterian (USA) minister and her husband Robert is an IT specialist. At the time of their trip to Iona, their two children were very young, yet as a household with two working professionals, they already were feeling like the demands on their time, energy, and selves were endless. So they prayerfully decided to embark upon something ancient, biblical, and in this day-and-age, terribly difficult (for many of us, at least). They vowed to, upon their return Washington, DC suburb home, to “remember the sabbath day and keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8).

 MaryAnn’s book is a month-by-month reflection on her family’s successes and failures at trying to set aside one whole day a week to do nothing (for them, it was usually Saturday). No yard or housework, no checking their work-related email or texts, refraining from social media, and generally abstaining from anything that was productive. She does a wonderful job of being self-deprecating, and laughing at their failures to just be. Her approach is not heavy-handed, self-righteous, or a “humblebrag.” And because of her simultaneously light-hearted-yet-spiritually-profound approach, MaryAnn’s book has been a good read for our group of “sabbath pilgrims.” As young professionals and/or parents of young children, we too are living lives that border on unmanageable, even in this unique vacation destination where we call home.

 Each week when we meet together, we have been celebrating the “little victories,” where we get excited about being able to keep the sabbath for even a half-day. And on our non-sabbath days, we have enjoyed taking a “sabbathly” approach to certain tasks such as driving in traffic.

 Being in this class and reading this book together has been a welcome invitation for us to explore and enjoy sacred time, sacred space, and sacred rest. It is certainly more rewarding to try this experiment with a group of folks who are struggling with similar challenges, so that we can celebrate and support one another through our journeys as young adults/young families in the ever-changing world in which we live.  

Pax,

Richard+

Transitions are difficult. Conventional wisdom and life experience both confirm this to be true. But nothing confirms this age-old truth more than having an infant and a toddler in the house. For them, and as a result for the entire family, transitions are not just difficult…they are brutal. Whether it is the transition from the bed to the breakfast table to the car for school, or from playing in the yard to the dinner table to the bath and to bed, transitions always seem to involve pleading, negotiations, bargaining, and meltdowns.

But children aren’t the only ones who struggle with transition. Adults do too…we just act out in different, sometimes more subtle ways than toddlers do. We adults are not immune to the disorientation and anxiety that transitions cause us.

Our scripture lessons today have a lot to do with the difficulty of transition. Our lesson from Joshua is all about the Israelites’ transition from 40 years of wandering in the wilderness to finally inhabiting the Promised Land of Canaan. This passage is set within the broader context of the transition in leadership from Moses to Joshua. Needless to say, this was a disorienting and anxious time for Joshua and the Israelites.

One reason that the Israelites had to spend 40 years in the wilderness was that they weren’t ready for the freedom and prosperity that awaited them in the Promised Land. Though they were no longer bound by the chains of slavery to the Egyptians, they had not yet fully transitioned away from slavery.

Those of us who have been engaged in prison ministry know that freedom is never instantaneous…it is a social, emotional, and spiritual process that can take years to attain. That is why there is so much recidivism in the prison system – many prisoners simply do not know how to be free. And that is why it is so important for us to invest in transitional programs for folks who are released from prison, so that they can, after paying their debt to society, go on to live productive, healthy lives.

And such was the case with the Israelites. At one point, they even complained to Moses and expressed their desire to return to Egypt, where they at least knew where they were, what their routine would be, and when their meals would come. And even though they had experienced God’s mighty power through the remarkable Exodus from Egypt, making their way through the parted waters of the Red Sea, their impatience and anxiety got the best of them. So they made and worshipped a golden calf. At that point, God and Moses knew that a lot needed to happen before the Israelites were ready to live in true freedom.

While Moses’ tenure as the leader of the Israelites was spent re-orienting the Israelites from slavery to freedom (physically and spiritually), Joshua’s first task as their leader was to prepare them for the literal transition into the Promised Land. Before they entered Canaan, Joshua required all of the males to be circumcised, so that they would distinguish themselves from their captors in Egypt as well as the Canaanites who they would ultimately capture. While Moses had helped them shed their slave mentality, Joshua required that they undergo the physical mark of their ancestors in order to reclaim their ancestral identity. But this shedding of skin was every bit as symbolic as it was literal. It was a painful but necessary mark of transition for the Israelites.

Once the Israelites entered Canaan, Joshua ordered that the first meal they were to share was a Passover meal. Like circumcision, the Passover meal was a literal and spiritual remembering and reclaiming of their ancestral roots. Their ancestors in Egypt had shared the Passover meal, yet those who had been born in the desert had never experienced the ritual meal that would become – along with circumcision - one of the identifying marks of Judaism. Our text tells us that once they shared this meal together in the Promised Land, the manna that God sent from heaven every day in the wilderness no longer came. This transition from God providing their sustenance to them providing their own was a poignant transition for the Israelites. This transition didn’t mean that God no longer would provide for them. It just meant, like a nursing baby being weaned from his mother, that things would be different between God and God’s people. The love was still there, it would just be manifest in different ways. The Israelites were being challenged to grow up, and to name and claim their identity as God’s people who had been freed from captivity and called to live faithfully as God’s people in the land that God promised them. I think that through Joshua, God was telling the Israelites that with freedom comes accountability and responsibility. No matter who the person or community, this transition to full freedom, accountability, and responsibility is terribly challenging, but can also be extremely rewarding.

Our Gospel lesson is full of literal, emotional, and spiritual. The Younger Son of the Prodigal Family transitions to independent living in another country, cut-off from God, his family, and his very own self. The Older Son thus had to transition to becoming the only child on the family farm. And the Father had to wrestle with the emotional transition of losing a son whom he loved very deeply.

When the Younger Son came to himself, he made the difficult decision to return the family, home, and God who he had abandoned. The immediate effects of this transition back home included the humility and shame of the Younger Son, the anger and resentment of the Older Son, and the joy and elation of the Father. That is a lot of intense emotions in one family system. But what we don’t hear about is the long term effects of this transition. Did you Younger Son get over his shame? Did the Older Son get over his anger? What did life for the Prodigal Family look like after the party that the Father threw for his son? Was the family eventually able to embrace and live together as a new creation?

I think that these scripture lessons are given to us during the season of Lent because it is a time of intentional transition for us as Christian pilgrims as we journey towards Easter. Like the Israelites and the Prodigal Family, we are in a period of disorientation working towards reorientation, trying to reorient our lives so that we can responsibly experience and live in to the freedom that has been given to us in Jesus Christ. As we saw in our lessons today, with freedom comes responsibility, and from time to time we are prone to wander away from God and our spiritual families. We have a tendency to lose our identity as those who have been grafted into Christ’s Body through our baptisms. So the season of Lent invites us into the process of reorientation.

Like the ancient Israelites, part of our reorientation is to remember and to reclaim our identity as God’s people. And as Christians, this is reclaiming our baptismal identity and recommitting ourselves to our baptismal covenants. As the Apostle Paul wrote to the Corinthians, through our baptisms we are made a new creation in Christ Jesus. Baptism is our “identifying mark” just as circumcision was for the Israelites. And it is a mark that we are called to remember and reclaim over and over, lest we forget.

As I have mentioned before, the rituals, traditions, and disciplines that we are called to in Lent aren’t designed to make us feel guilty or ashamed. And they don’t exist just for themselves. Rather, they are the manna from heaven that sustains us during this season of penitence and fasting. But we will not eat manna forever. An Easter feast in this life and a heavenly banquet in the next await us, just as the Passover Feast awaited the Israelites in the Promised Land. So as we continue on our Lenten pilgrimage towards the Promised Land of Easter – the Promised Land of a new life in Christ - let us rejoice in the holy and life-giving transition that lies ahead!