Shifting to Substack

Friends, after lo-these-many-years here on Blogger, I've taken to posting on Substack ... so encourage you to look for updated content there.

https://revsusanrussell.substack.com/

New Year’s Homily 2024: Looking to the Growing Edge

[A New Year's Eve Homily for All Saints Church, Pasadena.]

It was Christmas 1992 – 32 long years ago -- and I was the parish administrator at St. Paul’s in Ventura where I was just beginning to think about thinking about thinking about what it might mean to enter the ordination process. I received as a Christmas gift from the rector a copy of Sister Joan Chittister’s just published book: Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today.

While I think I mustered a polite murmur of gratitude I know I quickly set the book aside on the pile of flannel PJs and See’s Candy under the Christmas tree. And because the memory fades I can’t honestly remember when I finally picked it up to read. But I can honestly say that when I did, it changed my life.

Sister Joan was my first introduction to the radical notions of personal faith connected to faith in action, of communities committed to challenging the status quo rather than conforming to it, of monasticism that is about embracing the world rather than escaping from it.

It is fair to say that my theological education really began in earnest with this slender, initially unappreciated, eventually devoured volume with its series of reflections on what it is to live a life of faith and internalize a quote which you have heard me offer more times than I can count from this pulpit:

“We are each called to go through life reclaiming the planet
an inch at a time until the Garden of Eden grows green again.”

An inch at a time.

On this New Year’s Eve as we teeter on the cusp between the year-just-finished and the year-about-to-begin I find both comfort and challenge in those words. An inch at a time. It doesn’t seem so much – an inch. The comfort is that when the obstacles that surround seem overwhelming, the work ahead is daunting and the miles-to-go-before-we-rest loom exhaustingly-before-we-even-start an inch at a time seems pretty doable. That I don’t have to fix it all – solve it all – figure it all out – just the inch in front of me – can be vastly reassuring. Empowering even.

An inch at a time. It doesn’t seem so much – an inch. The challenge is that when the obstacles that surround seem overwhelming, the work ahead is daunting and the miles-to-go-before-we-rest loom exhaustingly-before-we-even-start an inch at a time seems not enough to matter – too little to bother with.

Who am I – who are WE – to think we can actually make a difference – much less reclaim the planet! Sometimes, rather than empowering, the inch in front of me can be discouraging. Immobilizing even.

Thankfully – in this cusp moment between a year that was full of challenges and year that is rife with uncertainties – Joyce Rupp offers an antidote to that immobilization in the prayer of meditation in our service leaflet this evening: 

Be not wary of what awaits you
as you enter the unknown terrain,
be not doubtful of your ability
to grow from its joy and sorrows.
For I am with you.
I will be your Guide.
I will be your Protector.
You will never be alone.

 You will never be alone. We will never be alone.
There is no inch we will be left to claim on our own.
There is no mountain we will be called to climb on our own.
There is no obstacle we will be left to overcome on our own.
There is no oppression we will be abandoned to dismantle on our own.

That is hope and promise we claim on this New Year’s Eve 2024 … waiting to enter the unknown terrain of 2025. The guarantee that we will never be alone … in either the joys or the sorrows that lie ahead. 

And -- as we gather in this sacred space this evening -- let us not forget that it is not just New Year’s Eve … it is the 7^th day of Christmas … and we continue to celebrate the gift of the word made flesh in the birth of Christmas baby … the love that came down at Christmas.

The Word made flesh in order to convince us that we are never alone because
we are so loved by God that God became one of us in order to show us how to love one another.

And it is out of that sure and certain knowledge that absolutely nothing can separate us from that love – that we can risk – we can dare.

We can be the change we want to see in the world that is crying for change:
for hope, for light and for joy as we enter the unknown terrain ahead … together as we continue to celebrate the incarnation – as we continue to strive to live up the high calling of being the Body of Christ in the world  ... of loving one another as God loves us.

In the words of Howard Thurman we heard Lori read just a few minutes ago:

This is the basis of hope in moments of despair,
the incentive to carry on when times are out of joint
and men have lost their reason,
the source of confidence when worlds crash
and dreams whiten into ash.
The birth of a child —
life’s most dramatic answer to death —
this is the growing edge incarnate.
Look well to the growing edge!

On this New Year’s Even 2024, Dr. Thurman’s words ring as true for us as they did when he wrote them in the 1940’s -- a time of global strife, war, division and the rising tide of fascism – calling us to “look well to the growing edge.” But where do we even start?

For that, I want to return to the wisdom of Angela Glover Blackwell – social justice advocate, attorney, and leader in the fight for racial and economic equity – who recently gifted our All Saints leadership team with a time of teaching on how to take her learnings of a lifetime in the struggle and apply them to the challenges of the moment. 

Among the notes I scribbled while listening to Dr. Blackwell was this quote: 

•  “If you want to build success in the chain you have to start with the link that is the most vulnerable in order to strengthen the entire chain.”

If we are looking for the growing edge … looking for which inch to start reclaiming – looking for where to begin – we need look no further than the most vulnerable … not just for the sake of the most vulnerable but for the sake of the entire chain. For the sake of what Dr. King called “the inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” For whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.

In this moment we start with immigrant neighbors facing threats of deportation, with transgender siblings being targeted for discrimination and with women being denied access to life-saving health care. 

We look well to those places – these growing edges – where God is yearning to be made present to the least, the lost and the last – and where we are called to make God’s presence known as beacons of God’s love, justice and compassion even – or perhaps especially – in these times of challenge. Times described by Bishop Steven Charleston this week in one of his daily reflections:

“Some will say: how sad a season, so much sorrow, so little joy. But if so little, then so precious. If so rare, then so valued. So much the essence of all our hopes. A single drop of love like that can light up the sky for more dreams than we can count. So release your joy. You will shine among so many others who share your hope, as your love begins to light up the world.”

A single drop of love like that can light up the sky …

Or light up an email inbox! 

Which brings me to this story … not from once upon a time, long, long ago but from this week. 

On Boxing Day – the day after Christmas – I was going through the incoming parish email (as one does) and there -- nestled amid all the Spam and year-end fundraising appeals in the general All Saints Church inbox -- was this note from across the pond in Scotland: 

"I saw a picture of you promoting tolerance and love with a progress-pride flag above your door, and though I'm not a religious person, I wanted you to know that I feel God's love through you. It's difficult for me to explain, as a hopelessly rational person, but I think you will understand. 

I feel it from certain churches here in Scotland too, and strangely enough I seem to find strength in knowing God exists through people like you. So I just wanted to take a moment to let you know that small gestures from those I consider to be real Christians brings God into my life in small but meaningful ways. God bless you."

 I seem to find strength in knowing God exists through people like you.

 My brothers and sisters and gender fluid siblings, this is the witness we hope we're making in the world – a single drop of love in a photo in an Instagram post lighting up the sky for someone we’ll never meet in Scotland.

This is the growing edge we strive to incarnate as All Saints Church – work that transcends the tenure of any rector or priest in charge, the term of any warden or staff or vestry member. 

It is the work we have ALL been called to do … it is work that has been for too long delayed in the doing … and – if we’re honest about it – it is work that will not be finished in our lifetimes … it is work we do in community:

Every time we gather … and every time we go out
Fed by the holy food and drink of new and unending life
Week after week … Inch by inch … drop by drop
Sustained by the community that sends us out and then welcomes us back.

And so as I close this homily and we close this year … I want to return to Sister Joan and give her the last word:

In community we work out our connectedness to God, to one another, and to ourselves. It is in community where we find out who we really are … Alone, I am what I am but in community I have the chance to become everything that I can be. And so, stability bonds me to this group of people and to these relationships – so that resting in the security of each other we can afford to stumble and search, knowing that we will be caught if we fall and we will be led where we cannot see by those who have been there before us.

Let us go forth into this new year
trusting that as we work to become everything we can be
we will be caught if we fall
as we rest in the security of each other
and in the love that came down at Christmas.

Merry 7^th Day of Christmas.
Happy New Year.
Amen.

The Both/And of Advent: A Sermon for Advent IV 2024

I’ve confessed before from this pulpit that Advent has always been one of my favorite seasons in the liturgical year.  What’s not to like about a season that is only four weeks long, where we get to wear blue and there’s Baby Jesus at the end of it? 

And as much as I’ve loved Advent over my now many years in the church, I don’t think I can remember a year when it has lived up as fully to the adage “time flies when you’re having Advent” as it has this year – for here we are already … all four candles glowing on the wreath and Christmas just around the corner. 

And as we light that fourth candle this morning – the candle of love – I want to begin by recalling the words of the late theologian and mystic, Howard Thurman – who famously wrote that for him the Advent candles represent:

• joy despite sadness,
• hope where despair keeps watch
• courage for fears ever present
• peace for tempest-tossed days
• grace to ease heavy burdens
• love to inspire all our living

 For me, Thurman’s words put flesh on the bones on the “both/andness” of these Advent candles which shine in the gloom which surrounds us – lit in anticipation of Christmas – and with prayers that they might burn in our hearts all year long to keep us ready.

To keep us ready. To inspire ALL our living.

For I love the idea that Advent isn’t just a time of preparation for Christmas – but for a way of living in preparation for life’s challenges which don’t miraculous disappear at the end of four weeks of blue with Baby Jesus at the end. At least they don’t in my life. And I suspect the same is true in yours.

Which is why we are called to be ready. To keep our lamps trimmed and burning.

To live with both expectation and anticipation of the kingdom God not quite here  but yet within and among us. 

To hold in tension the endings and beginnings which are the quintessential themes of Advent. To stay awake – what some would call “woke” not as an insult – to the ongoing inbreaking of God’s love, justice and compassion continually coming into the world – awake and prepared for the ongoing call to action as we walk in love forward into God’s future – continuing … as our baptismal promise frames it … to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being. 

And so this morning I want to tell you about four candles that I have seen glowing in the darkness that surrounds us. They aren’t candles on a wreath in a sanctuary – they are candles of action in the struggle. 

·       The first was a Candle of Healing & Hope in an email

o   Earlier this month I was invited to be part of a TikTok puppet video series called “Ask the Rev” and responded to the question from one of the puppets about what the Episcopal Church believes about marriage.

o   Of course my answer included that we believe marriage is a vocation for ANY two people who feel called to live happily ever after together until death do they part and ask the church’s blessing on their love.

o   It got over 72K views and a number of predictable attacks from folks who wanted to know what Bible I read and reminding me that if I persisted in heresy I would burn in the Lake of Fire. But that's par for the course. And it also inspired this email:

Dear Reverend Russell,

I recently came across your video about marriage on TikTok and found it profoundly healing. Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Luis and I live in Colombia. I am a Catholic, and my faith is something I hold very close to my heart. However, I have experienced rejection from my local clergy due to my homosexuality, which has been a source of deep pain and confusion. Thank you for the work you and your church does and the hope you bring to so many. God bless you all. 

·         The second was a Candle of Resistance & Rebooting in a diocesan meeting where 80 people gathered -- in person and online -- for the "rebooting" of our Sacred Resistance Task Force ... originally launched in 2016

§  Q. What is “sacred resistance?”

§  A. One of the core promises of our baptismal covenant is to “persevere in resisting evil.” We understand that as a call to stand in resistance to the systemic evils that oppress and marginalize any member of our human family – including but not limited to racism, sexism, nativism, homophobia, anti-Semitism and Islamophobia. Grounded in our baptismal promises, our resistance to public policies that perpetuate those evils is how we put our faith into action in the world.

o   Resistance is one of the ways we live out the words from the Prophet Micah this morning:

§  And they shall live secure, for now he shall be great
to the ends of the earth; and he shall be the one of peace.

o   Peace for all people – not just some people.

o   “Reconciliation is holy work. Resistance is too. When the agendas of elected officials scapegoat people of color and Muslims, deprive our fellow citizens of control over their lives, loves and bodies, desecrate God’s creation or enrich the wealthy at the expense of the poor, we must oppose them. This is not a partisan political statement; it is a confession of faith.” – Gay Jennings

·       The third was a Candle of Resilience & Repair in an after church forum

o   Resilience in the All Saints community as 78 people gathered in the Guild Room for truth telling about and exploring what reparations look like for the damage done by unexamined privilege and systemic racism.

o   We gathered for the hard, long haul work of listening across differences, hearing each other into speech, truth telling, reconciliation and reparations ... work that transcends the tenure of any rector or priest in charge, the term of any vestry or staff member

o   It is the work we have ALL been called to do … it is work that has been for too long delayed in the doing … and – if we’re honest about it – it is work that will not be finished in our lifetimes.

o   Nevertheless, we persist.

o   And in the year ahead we will persist together – with God’s help and with the leadership of a growing team of good people of deep faith who are committed to the aspirational goal of moving beyond inclusion to celebration of every single member of the human family.

·       The Fourth was a Candle of Compassion & Care on the quad lawn

o   “Do you need a warmer coat?” was the question the volunteer asked of the visitor to the food table on a chilly Sunday morning.

o   Here at All Saints Church over 200 coats given to under-resourced and unhoused neighbors over the last few weeks

o   On this fourth Sunday in Advent – with Christmas just around the corner – we prepare to celebrate again the arrival of the one who loved us enough to become one of us in order to show us how to love one another

o   And the both/and of that celebration is that that love is already here – already among and within us – already

o   It is the love that leaves nobody out, draws everyone in and is good news for all people

o   And it is a message antithetical to the one being proclaimed by those hijacking the Good News of God’s inclusive love in the service of Christian Nationalism

o   For the Love we proclaim lives itself out by putting into action the words of the Magnificat which our sister Mary proclaimed in today’s gospel:

§  Casting the mighty from their thrones and

§  scattering the proud in their conceit

§  as we participate in the struggle against empire and oppression which is as old as Roman occupation and domination in the 1^st century and as current as the headlines of the rise of global oligarchies in the 21^st.

 All of these both/ands of Advent point to the truth Madeline L’Engle penned in her poem “First Coming” -- which is as true today as it was when she wrote it in the 1980’s:

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Rejoice.

For many of us … the candles burning on the wreath notwithstanding … that’s a tall order in a year, in a moment, in a world, in a nation that far too often feels the exact opposite of sane … where we are bombarded with what my father used to call “news of fresh disasters” as innocents are slaughtered in a war that rages on in the land where shepherds watched their flocks by night; as gun violence continues unabated, hatred and polarization reach epidemic proportions, and refugees seeking sanctuary find no room at the inn at our border while fascism rears its ugly head in a nation aspirationally dedicated to the proposition that all people are created equal.

Nevertheless, we light the candle and we claim the promise – because we are hardwired to live with the both/and – the not yet and the already – to live into the non-binary truth of Advent that grief and pain can co-exist with love and joy – and that the incarnation of that truth is once again about to come among us as that baby born of our sister Mary: the Word become flesh to show us how to live in a broken world as if the kingdom God has already come -- as if the love of God is greater than anything that challenges it.

And how do we do that seemingly impossible task? Imperfectly. Haltingly. Sometimes begrudgingly. But most importantly we do it together. We do it together as community.

We do it as the Body of Christ living out the hope, peace, joy and love of the Advent candles
not just during the run-up to Christmas but all year long as we gather around this table to fed by the bread and wine made holy and then go out into the world as beacons of God’s love, justice and compassion.

 That is the work we have been called to do, equipped to do and empowered to do: To witness to the light coming into the world we will celebrate in a few short days in our Christmas celebrations and then take out into the new year ahead … in a time when that witness has never been more essential. So -- in the words of our brother, Bishop Steven Charleston:

 Let us be bold in our witness, for the time of change is upon us, and the dreams of many hang in the balance. Let us be clear in what we say, for there are uncounted numbers listening, waiting for just such a message as we ourselves have been given. Let us be transparent: we are agents of love, workers for peace, stewards of the Earth, and members of a community of seekers, united in respect and diverse in opinion by the indestructible power of God's inexhaustible love

Let us be bold in our witness, for the time of change is upon us,
and the dreams of many hang in the balance.

As we prepare to go forth this morning,  as we turn the corner from Advent preparation to Christmas celebration, may we be given the grace to move forward in faith as rejoicers and resisters, as agents of love and workers for peace, as outward and visible signs to a weary world in desperate need of that indestructible power of God's inexhaustible love.

Won’t you pray with me:

O come, Desire of nations, bind
in one the hearts of humankind;
bid thou our sad divisions cease,
and be thyself our King of Peace.
Rejoice, Rejoice.
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

Amen.

When We Fight, We Win

"When We Fight, We Win" does not mean we win every battle. It does not mean there are not heartbreaking defeats, demoralizing setbacks and sleepless nights wondering WTF. It does not mean that the principalities and powers we fight against -- racism, sexism, heterosexism, patriarchalism (just to name a few) are not deeply entrenched and wired into this beautiful and broken world which this morning feels further than ever from the Beloved Community it was created to be.

Nevertheless, we persist.

And we need icons of persistence, I give you the Philadelphia Eleven. I give you eleven women who picked themselves up off the floor when the 1973 General Convention of the Episcopal Church gut punched them by voting down the ordination of women by a wider margin than it had voted it down in 1970 and organized a resistance movement that led to their ordinations in July 1974 -- and to the regularizing of those ordinations in 1976.

Today's election results feel to me like I imagine that 1973 vote felt to them as they questioned everything they thought they knew about the church they loved and served. I know I'm not alone in questioning how to respond to this gut punch from a nation theoretically dedicated to liberty and justice for all choosing to vote instead for power and privilege for some.

Today I don't have answers.
But I do have faith.
I do have community.
I do have sisters in the struggle, brothers and non-binary siblings in the fight and the history of The Philadelphia Eleven in my heart.

When We Fight, We Win
And we have only begun to fight.
La lucha continua

Revisiting "The Sisterhood of the Red Blazer"

Here in the Diocese of Los Angeles as we prepare for our 2024 Diocesan Convention in Riverside next week, we are also preparing to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the ordinations of The Philadelphia Eleven … the first women ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church in July 1974.

We will welcome the Reverend Dr. Carter Heyward as our keynote speaker and as the presider at our Convention Eucharist where we will use the liturgical Propers appointed for the Feast of the Philadelphia Eleven added to our church calendar at last summer’s General Convention. The Reverend Norma Guerra will be our preacher, the procession will include all the clergywomen present at convention and the festival color will be red. It will be a grand and glorious occasion.

And planning it brought me back to this reflection I wrote a decade or so ago:

My first diocesan convention was back in 1987. Back then I was a lay delegate from my parish (St. Paul's, Ventura) and my credential read "Mrs. Anthony Russell" ... never mind that the sum total of MR Anthony Russell's involvement in the work of the Diocese of Los Angeles was to show up on Christmas Eve and Easter Sunday.

It was back in the day when we didn't dare run more than one woman in any of the elections. I remember a literal coin toss between two women clergy one year about which ONE would run for General Convention Deputy because the diocese would never send TWO women! (Lynn Jay beat out Liz Habecker.)

It was time when if we sang a hymn that wasn't in the hymnal or -- God forbid -- used a liturgy with expansive language -- there would be a queue at the microphone afterwards with dour clergymen asking for a "point of personal privilege" to express their outrage at the “Abandonment of the Faith Received from the Fathers.”

And I remember when I was in the ordination process being told it wasn't a good idea to wear my red blazer (and I LOVED my red blazer!) because red was a "power color" and I'd better pack it away until after I got safely ordained.

So yes, the church has changed in the decades I've been a delegate to the Annual Meeting of the Diocese of Los Angeles -- and my response to that versicle is "Thanks be to God!" There may be a few left who yearn for those halcyon days of yesteryear when women delegates were named "Mrs. Husband" and we knew better than to run more than one of us in any given election. But the rest of us are celebrating the steps forward this church has taken to overcome its sexism and are going to "keep on keepin' on" until we are fully the inclusive Body of Christ we are called to be. We may not be there yet … but we are not going back!

However, some of us are going to get on the road shortly for Riverside. Prayers invited from all ya'll for my diocese as we gather in convention ... and now I just need to pack my red blazer and I'm off!

And when I got to Riverside I found a whole cohort of sister clergy who had read the piece and packed their red blazers … and from there Rachel Nyback (pictured above) and I coined the phrase “The Sisterhood of the Red Blazer.”

This year as we gather in Riverside we will celebrate the 50^th anniversary of the sisters who shattered the stained glass ceiling and paved the way for women called to the vocation of ordained ministry to respond to that call AND validated the vocations of women called to lay ministry as a vocation -- not as a default because the path to ordination was closed to them.

And so we’re encouraging red as the festival color of the day -- not just for the stoles women clergy will wear in procession or for the photo we’ll take to mark the occasion at the end of the Eucharist -- but as an outward and visible symbol of the faith received from the Mothers (and Fathers) as we all move forward together into God’s future!

See you there! (I’ll be the one in the red blazer!)

Reprise of Isaiah 58 in the Wake of Ongoing Gun Violence

Shout out, do not hold back!

Lift up your voice like a trumpet!

Why does the United States worship guns

Instead of God?

Yet day after day they seek me

and delight to know my ways,

as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness

and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;

They ask of me righteous judgments,

they delight to draw near to God.

Why do you go to all these churches, but you do not see?

Why do you humble yourselves, but you do not notice?”

Look, you serve your own interest on your worship day,

And then just do the bidding of the National Rifle Association.

Look, you pray and then go out to buy and sell guns

And make it easier for many to commit mass murder.

Such prayers as you do today will not

make your voice heard on high.

Is such the worship that I choose,

a day to make it easier to sell guns?

Is it to bow down the head in prayer,

And then call for prayers for gun victims?

Will you call these prayers, a day acceptable to the Lord?

Is not this the prayers that I choose:

to free the nation from the yoke of the NRA,

to undo the fraudulent interpretation of the second amendment,

to let those who fear guns in their neighborhoods be freed,

and to overturn the gun lobbies?

Is it not to share your opposition

to out of control guns with your neighbors,

and to bring better policy to our nation;

when you see those in terror of gun violence,

protect them and keep them safe?

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,

and your healing shall spring up quickly;

your vindicator shall go before you,

the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;

you shall cry for help, and God will say, Here I am.

["Our Great God Gun -- It is clear to me that Americans really worship the Great God Gun. So I imagined God’s response to this idolatry via the profound words of Isaiah 58." Susan Thistlethwaite ... one of the great prophetic voices of our time.] 

Celebrating The Feast of the Philadelphia Eleven

The Philadelphia Eleven (the eleven women who made history in 1974 as the first women ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church) now have their own Feast Day in the church’s liturgical calendar -- and I am proud to be part of the Diocese of Los Angeles which helped lead way in making that happen.

The following resolution was adopted in November 2023 at the Diocese of Los Angeles’ 128th annual convention:  

Resolved, that the 128th Annual Convention of the Diocese of Los Angeles submit the following resolution to the 81st General Convention of the Episcopal Church meeting in 2024: Resolved, the House of ________________ concurring, that the 81st General Convention include and enter The Philadelphia Eleven to the Lesser Feasts & Fasts Calendar of the Church Year to be celebrated on July 29.

Sent forward to the 81st General Convention of the Episcopal Church in 2024, it was adopted by acclamation. 

The resulting addition of this feast day to our calendar means that as we approach the 50th anniversary of those stained glass ceiling shattering ordinations on July 29, 2024 there are now liturgical propers and prayers officially authorized for use throughout the Episcopal Church. 

The Philadelphia Eleven were also celebrated during General Convention with a tribute resolution and  a moving moment of prayer and reflection led by the Reverend Dr. Cynthia Black -- a moment captured in this video clip. Yes, there are miles to go before we rest and ... how far we have come indeed!

Celebrating Incremental Victories

"Have you seen the new Episcopal Pride Shield? OMG!" was the subject line in the email ... which contained this link to an update from the Episcopal Public Policy Network release which began: "In affirmation and celebration of The Episcopal Church’s LGBTQ+ members, the Office of Communication is pleased to unveil a new Pride shield available online for churchwide use." And -- as my friend and sister-in-the-struggle Elizabeth Kaeton has famously said -- my eyes started to sweat.

In the middle of a regular-old-Thursday at my desk catching up on everything I was going to get to after clergy conference and have to pay attention to before General Convention ... plus some random check request issues, a pastoral visit with a discernee and a staff Eucharist thrown in ... I was flooded with a mental slide show of the ghosts-of-Inclusion Wars battles past and a little "pinch me, I think I'm dreaming" moment.

Twenty-four years ago as we prepared to go to Denver for General Convention we were assaulted on all sides by those who thought we were moving too fast and were going to split the church, by those who thought we weren't moving fast enough and were planning to come and chain themselves to the convention hall doors in protest and those who were telling the clergy planning to vest and process at the Integrity Eucharist that it would be end of our careers in the church.

And now as we prepare to go to Louisville for General Convention we count six queer bishops in our House of Bishops, have a Task Force on LGBTQ Inclusion as one of our Interim Bodies and now an official Pride Shield (and I quote) "In affirmation and celebration of The Episcopal Church's LGBTQ+ members."

I literally did not think I would live this long.

Which does NOT mean we are done.

Which does NOT mean there isn't work yet to do.

And certainly does NOT mean we can risk underestimating the forces at work in our world marshalling their resources to push back the gains toward full inclusion in our church, our nation and our world.

Nevertheless -- as the inimitable George Regas of blessed memory taught us -- the way we get where we're going is to set audacious goals and celebrate incremental victories.

The audacious goal is still nothing less than the dismantling of oppression in all its forms. And the incremental victory is today's unveiling of a Pride Shield for the Episcopal Church. So let us rejoice and be glad in it. And then let's get back to work. Because as we've said before and will say again: La Lucha Continua ... The Struggle Continues. And we are in it to win it.

No Accident We: The sermon I didn't preach on Lent IV

It was written, printed and ready to go -- this sermon for Lent 4/2024 -- but it turns out I wasn't. Ready to go.

Still managing symptoms from a virus picked up traveling a week ago, I opted to pass the 10am pulpit baton to the 7:30am preacher and keep my possibly germy self home for rest and hydration. But ... with deep bows of gratitude to the brilliant Deon Johnson ... here's what I would have said:

No Accident We | Lent 4_2024 

 

Remember that you are dust,

the substance of the stars,

animated with the breath of life.

Uniquely formed in the image and likeness

Of Divine Love,

authored in hope, forged in joy,

very good of very good.

No accident we.

This beloved quickened dust

Knit to love and be loved.

Remember that you are dust. Amen.

“Remember that you are dust” … words that have launched the holy season of Lent down through the centuries … words that showed up for me reframed and reformed this Ash Wednesday in this prayer posted by friend and colleague Bishop Deon Johnson.

 

It is a prayer that I have returned to daily during this Lenten Journey

and one I believe has a word for us … not only as we gather

on this Fourth Sunday in Lent in the year of our Lord 2024

on this Annual Meeting Sunday in a Centennial Year for All Saints Church …

but as we look ahead to the word we need to sustain us

for the journey in the days, weeks and months ahead …

the word we need to continue the struggle
of living out lives aligned with love, justice and compassion

in a world being torn apart by violence, polarization and division ...

the word we need as we strive to offer

an antidote to the toxic theology of Christian Nationalism

and the clash between two worldviews in our body politic and civic discourse.

It is not a new struggle.
But it does remind me of an old story.

 

It was 2007 and then rector Ed Bacon invited me to join him for his annual retreat.
It was an eight-day silent retreat
with the Handmaids of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Haverford, Pennsylvania —
and it is an experience I will always remember
and have absolutely no plan to replicate.

 

It will not be a surprise to most of you
that eight days of silence and I
turned out not to be a match made in heaven
and …
there were some wonderful things about the experience
I still hold with gratitude and which continue to inform my journey.

One of them was the homily I heard from Father Sullivan —
one of the Roman priests who came to preside in the convent chapel.
He talked about his early days in ministry,
doing missionary work in Guatemala
and the deep friendship he developed with his Evangelical roommate.
He said they had MUCH in common
as they worked among the most vulnerable in the city
and they had lots of great conversations about theology, mission and ministry.

The one chasm they couldn’t bridge, however,
was the one between their different views on the nature of humanity.

His roommate, the priest recounted,
was convinced humans are inherently evil beings
who can only accomplish good by being bathed in the Blood of the Lamb.

The priest, on the other hand,
was convinced that humans are inherently good
and that our baptism into the Body of Christ
is what enables, equips and empowers us to resist the evil present in the world
in order to participate with God in making that world a better place.

 

These two schools of thought create two very different world views because who we think we are turns out to have a lot to do with who we think God is: and how we understand who we were created to be turns out to have a lot to do with how we understand who the Creator is.

Are human beings inherently evil or essentially good?
Is God a punitive male authority figure
with an anger management problem
ready to cast us into outer darkness
for coloring outside of the lines of any of the house rules
or a loving creator
yearning to realize the dream
of gathering all creation around the table
to be fed by the holy food of love, justice and compassion?

 

And how we answer those questions for ourselves
turns out to influence not only how we live out our faith in the world,
but how we put our faith into action through the values we embrace,
and as we struggle to be the change we want to see in the world.

 

And it turns out, my sisters, brothers and gender fluid siblings,

that this struggle did not start with a particular election cycle or party platform

or the rise of a particular autocrat or economic system.

 

It is the same struggle we hear about week after week, year after year in the ancient scriptural story of our spiritual ancestors who struggled against the same powers and principalities they faced in their time as we do in ours.

 

In our scriptural story we hear about the times they succeeded – and about the times they failed.

 

But more importantly, we hear about the God who never gave up on them; whose quality is always to have mercy; who is always with us in the struggle against systemic evil.

 

Walter Wink — the 20th century biblical scholar and theologian
of “Engaging the Powers” fame —
brilliantly summarized what it is we’re up against
in this 1999 summary of what he called “the myth of redemptive violence:”

 

“The myth of redemptive violence is, in short,
nationalism become absolute.
This myth speaks for God;
it does not listen for God to speak.
It invokes the sovereignty of God as its own;
it does not entertain the prophetic possibility of radical judgment by God.
It misappropriates the language, symbols, and scriptures of Christianity.
It does not seek God in order to change;
it embraces God in order to prevent change.
Its God is not the impartial ruler of all nations
but a tribal god worshiped as an idol.
Its metaphor is not the journey but the fortress.
Its symbol is not the cross but the crosshairs of a gun.
Its offer is not forgiveness but victory.
Its good news is not the unconditional love of enemies
but their final elimination.
Its salvation is not a new heart but a successful foreign policy.
It is blasphemous. It is idolatrous.”

 

The bad news is that is what we’re up against.
The worse news is the Christian Nationalism
Walter Wink wrote about in 1999 is on steroids in 2024.
But good news is that we’re not up against it alone.

 

Lent is the season we reprogram our spiritual GPS.
It is the time we commit ourselves to realigning ourselves
with the grain of the universe which is love
in order to share what we know,
what we value,
and to spin a force of the Spirit
that reaches back to a tomorrow
we cannot yet imagine;
a tomorrow where the myth of redemptive
is banished
and the reign of God’s love, justice and compassion
has come on earth as it is in heaven.

To reverse our amnesia about who we are,

from where we come

and ultimately to where we will go when our time in the realm is over.

 

Of Divine Love,

authored in hope, forged in joy,

very good of very good.

No accident we.

This beloved quickened dust

Knit to love and be loved.

It was that glimpse of humanity as we were created to be –

of what the world could be –

made manifest smack dab in the middle of the world

as the worst it had become --

that drew people to Jesus in 1^st century Palestine

and continues to draw people to him in 21^st century Pasadena. 

 

The thousands who flocked to him in this morning’s reading from Mark is one of the most famous in all of scripture – the miracle of the loaves and fishes where Jesus pulled off abundance in the face of scarcity while the disciples cluelessly flunked the story problem at the end causing him to ask – one more time – “do you not understand?”

 

A glimpse of Beloved Community where all are included, nobody leaves hungry and even if you don’t “get it” you’re still welcome.

It seems that Jesus had as many parables and stories as there were people who came seeking him – seeking that other world he came to show us was not only possible, but was here – but was now.

 

·      “The kingdom of God is like …”

 

But of all the stories in scripture of those who come seeking Jesus, the one on my heart this Fourth Sunday in Lent is not the one appointed for today by the lectionary lottery – it is the one we hear every year on Tuesday in Holy Week:  

 

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.   

 

And one of the questions I have every time I hear this one is:
“But what about the Greeks?” 
 
Every time I hear it read in church and we say  

“The word of the Lord/Thanks be to God,“   

I’m left wondering 
what happened to these Greeks who showed up 
at the beginning of the gospel saying 
"Sir, we wish to see Jesus" 
and set off the from Philip to Andrew to Jesus chain of events 
that ended up with Jesus going into 
the poetic and prophetic musing 
on what it means to be glorified 
and "indicating the kind of death he was to die." 
 
We never find out what happened to those Greeks. 

A brief historical “contextual” note: 
when John says "some Greeks", 
he doesn't mean folks who hang out in Athens and are related to Zorba. 
To the 1st century hearers of the Gospel "Greeks" meant "non-Jews" - 
foreigners - Gentiles. 

No wonder Philip had to go check with Andrew first ... 
did you notice that in the text? 
"They came to Philip -- who went and told Andrew; 
then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus."
 
As one of the commentaries I consulted noted: 
"... evidently being dubious how they might be received." 
No automatic welcome for these guys: 
these Greeks who wanted to see Jesus. 
 
So we’re all left wondering: 
Did they get to see Jesus? 

Were they in crowd when Jesus offered this long explanation 
of what his death was going to be about ... 
and if so did they "get it" ... 
or did they leave wondering what the deal was ... 
feeling as if they came in late in the second act 
and were not sure what the plot line was all about? 

Let’s hope not.
Let’s hope they encountered a 1^st century version of our 21^st century Welcome Table with someone like Nancy Naecker there to greet them and make sure they got a welcome bag and met some folks to help them find their way.

 

For at the end of the day,

what we are called to be about each and every time

we gather here in this sacred space

is to be the Body of Christ …

to do the ministry of Jesus on earth –

offering that glimpse of humanity as we were created to be –

a window into the world as it could be –

made manifest smack dab in the middle of a world

that sometimes seems to be working overtime to be the worst can be.

Yes, it’s an aspirational goal.

Yes, we frequently fall dramatically short of living into the full stature of who we are called to be.

Nevertheless – we persist.

 

We persist in being the change we want to see in the world;

We persist in offering loving liberation

as an alternative to the myth of redemptive violence

And we persist in living lives in alignment

with the love lures us toward hope – 
as followers of the one who yearns to draw all people to himself:
the Jesus who spoke, in the last days before his crucifixion, 
to those Greeks who came to him – 
not sure if they'd be welcome. 
 
It is an old, old story still begging to be fulfilled – 
and we are the Body of Christ 
who have been charged with fulfilling it in our generation.

In the words of Deon Johnson:

No accident we.

 

And so, in this March Women’s History Month:

May we claim the charge of our sister Esther who “for just such as time as this” was called to speak to truth power; to risk for the hope of liberation; to trust in the God who created her from the substance of the stars.

  
May we remember Phyllis Tickle of blessed memory who taught us
that doctrine and liturgy are important 
because they represent 
the paper trail 
of our historic experience of God 
but those coming toward us 
don’t want just a paper trail … 
they want their own experience:
Just lik the Greeks 
who came to Philip and Andrew 
they want to see Jesus. 

And we are the ones who have been called to show him to them.
 

Three weeks ago Gary Hall launched us into Lent reminding us of our call to be a prophetic church with these words: “Prophets show things how they really are – and the church’s prophetic voice shows the world what it really is – reverses its amnesia about what it was created to be … calls us to remember who we are created to be.”

 

And so, beloved … if you remember nothing else:

Remember that you are dust,

the substance of the stars,

animated with the breath of life.

Uniquely formed in the image and likeness

Of Divine Love,

authored in hope, forged in joy,

very good of very good.

No accident we.

This beloved quickened dust

Knit to love and be loved.

Remember that you are dust. Amen.