Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Interested in Dorothee Soelle? A summer online retreat/course opportunity

I don't as they put it believe in god

but to him I cannot say no hard as I try
take a look at him in the garden
when his friends ran out on him
his face wet with fear
and with the spit of his enemies
him I have to believe


Him I can't bear to abandon
to the great disregard for life
to the monotonous passing of millions of years
to the moronic rhythm of work leisure and work
to the boredom we fail to dispel
in cars in beds in stores

That's how it is they say what do you want
uncertain and not uncritically
I subscribe to the other hypothesis
which is his story
that's not how it is he said for god is
and he staked his life on this claim

Thinking about it I find
one can't let him pay alone
for his hypothesis
so I believe him about
god

The way one believes another's laughter
his tears
or marriage or no for an answer
that's how you'll learn to believe him about life
promised to all

A poem I had posted here many moons ago. It is from the series of 10 poems "When He Came" in Dorothee Soelle's book Revolutionary Patience (1977).
 

"SOELLE IN SUMMER" - *online* June 17-July 31. A mix of retreat and course, with opportunity for both individual reflection and conversation. Interested? Read more on my web space here.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Liturgy & spirituality in feminist perspective: online course

As I noted in the previous post, which announced the Merton retreat, I have begun (since last year) to offer online courses and retreats.

We have a course about to start in a week. It is called Naming Mystery, Living Justice: Spirituality and Liturgy in Feminist Perspective. It will feature Christian feminist as well as some Jewish feminist and Goddess/Pagan readings. Full information is here

All genders are welcome. You don't have to be a woman to be interested in feminism.

Note that there is a discount if you register by tonight! (Sunday, January 20.) If you don't read this till Monday morning, ask for the discount then too. 


The home page of my professional website (really a blog acting like a website) is here.

Now back to our (ir)regularly scheduled blogging...

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Christmas 2010: the first day of Christmas

Joyous Christmas, all.

I am going to try to start blogging again. Today I do not have words of my own, except for the ones I wrote yesterday on Facebook (where you can find me if you miss me here, though it is a very different kind of writing and presence) and which are below in blue. I have also posted a Nativity image (scroll down a couple of posts), a song, and a link to last year's Christmas post.


Greetings to my friends
who are Jewish, Muslim,
Buddhist, Humanist
and
of many other traditions.
As Christians celebrate these holy days
(in my tradition Christmas is 12 days long),
I remember
that we often have wounded
and killed,
physically and otherwise,
in the name of the one we call
Prince of Peace.
May we in celebrating him
also honor you
and your integrity
and remember that you too
walk in paths of wisdom and truth.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

September 11, 2010: reflection for a student-initiated "interfaith solidarity" gathering

In light of recent events and less recent ones, some students at Guilford College, where I teach, organized a gathering for reflection and meditation. The event was simple and included readings from Jewish, Christian, and Muslim holy scriptures followed by Quaker-style silence with opportunity for anyone to speak. It began with a spoken reflection by a faculty member, who happened to be your friendly Acts of Hope blogger.

Here is the reflection. Bear in mind that

1) it was addressed to a particular audience --in this case, mostly "adult-escent" students and one or two faculty, including a variety of religious, non-religious, I'm-not-religious-but-I'm-spiritual, and other folks, so "pitching it" was tricky;

2) it has some repetitions and will seem a little rambling in places, with questionable sentence structure. I wrote it to be spoken aloud, slowly and somewhat meditatively.

In spite of this, perhaps some of this reflection will be useful to you.

As you may surmise from the words below, I've been teaching Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Dorothee Soelle, Diana Eck, and Eboo Patel these days. And the early centuries of the Christian church.

Shalom. Salaam aleikum. Peace be with you.



Reflections on Interreligious Solidarity
Today and in the Long Haul


We welcome each other to this gathering
to which we come in peace
with both our common humanity
and our profound differences.

I always smile and take a deep breath
when someone says to me
“Well, all religions are the same.”
Actually, they are not.

Our gathering today
is an invitation to open our hearts and minds
and (as Thomas said in his invitation letter) our arms
to those who are
not us.

To learn:
Allah is worshipped by Muslims,
as all-merciful and compassionate.

To learn:
There was a Muslim nonviolent leader
Kahn Abdul Ghaffar Khan (known as Badshah Khan)
in what is now Pakistan
in the same era as the Hindu nonviolent leader
Mohandas Gandhi
(known as Mahatma Gandhi).

To learn:
Jewish law is not a set of rules
but a path of life.

To learn:
The Torah and the whole Tanakh
and Judaism
are not just a prelude to Christianity.

To learn:
Jesus was not a Christian.

To learn:
Orthodox Christians who venerate icons
of Jesus, Mary, and the saints
are not worshiping idols.

To learn:
There have been times and places in history
in which Jews, Christians, and Muslims
have killed in the name of God.

To learn:
There have been times and places in history
in which Jews, Christians, and Muslims
have lived together and learned from each other.
Cordoba. Sarajevo. New York.

To learn:
Muslims worshiped peacefully
on the 17th floor
of the World Trade Center
and were among the dead 9 years ago
along with Christians, Jews, Buddhists,
humanists, agnostics, atheists, and
many people whose faith we will never know.

To learn:
On that day,
an openly gay Franciscan Catholic priest
was one of the people who died
not because he was working in the twin towers
but because he rushed over there
and went in
to help care for and pray for
the wounded and the dead.

To learn:
Long before 2001,
September the 11th was the day in 1973
that a coalition of military generals
toppled the democratically elected government in Chile
and established a dictatorship that ruled with terror
for 16 years, banned trade unions,
exiled 200,000 dissenters
killed thousands of others,
and used its laws against a million native people,
the Mapuche.
The U.S. government, except during the Carter era,
supported the dictatorship.

Now,
having said all this,
let me make something clear.

Knowledge alone will not save or heal the world.
Higher learning will not guarantee justice
or alone teach compassion.

That would be to say
that only educated people can be holy
and that all educated people are righteous.

That is not true.

The Nazi doctors had lots of education.
They had medical degrees
from distinguished universities
and they used their knowledge
to torture and kill other human beings
both children and adults.
And then they went home
and listened to classical music.

Education is important
and truth and accuracy do matter.

but I want to raise the question for us today
of what kind of education we need.

More specifically,
I want to ask
what practices
–I’d like to call them spiritual practices
and I hope this is a phrase that has meaning
to all or most of you—
I want to ask what spiritual practices
we need to cultivate
in order to live as compassionate neighbors
in this conflicted world.

The world in which we live
is dangerous as well as beautiful.

The hate which we have witnessed in so many ways
--poverty that kills,
violence that kills,
cultural violence,
the threat of burning scriptures, the Qur’an, in Florida,
the burning of bodies in New York and Washington (and Pennsylvania),
the bodies maimed and raped and murdered in wars
right now
in so many countries,
the hasty language in the comments on news websites,
the swastika that showed up on someone's door
in Binford dorm the other day, right here on campus—
all that hate is not going to go away.

The hate is not going away,
though the good news is that there are
many people and groups
from many religions and places and cultures
who do the work of love,
who embody solidarity,
who exercise humility and who labor for justice.

In this world
you will be asked to stand up
for the same values and sentiments
for which you stand today
here in this circle.

You will need to do so
in hostile environments.

Will you be ready?

How will you prepare yourself?

How are you preparing now, while you are in school,
for the kind of witness we give today?

On what (or on whom)
will you draw to help you?

Let me use a word
that will not have a benevolent meaning
to all of you;
it is the word "tradition."
Thank you for bearing with me.

What tradition
or traditions
will you drawn on?

You see, we have company here.

We have company in the way of peace:
in religious peacemaking
and in secular groups devoted to peace.

We have to forge new paths
but we do not have to reinvent the wheel.

People have been here before us.

This is part of today’s good news.
We are not alone, here in our little group.

Both the dead and the living
walk with us and teach us and encourage us
if we will only listen.

We can’t do this work
without community.

And we are not the first.

Our particular community
may be a community of faith and practice,
or a humanist community.
Our communities may be
communities of struggle,
communities of peacemakers,
long established
or fairly new groups
(like the Interfaith Youth Core).


Some of us here
believe that our way
and our community’s way
is the best and the holiest.

Others
are not sure what we believe
or where the way is for us.

Whether we are one or the other
or somewhere in between,
encountering the other
is part of our work in the classroom.

It is also our work everywhere else.
Everywhere.

Think of how often
you –let me say “we” here
since of course I do it too.
Think how often we
respond hastily,
inwardly or outwardly,
jump to conclusions,
think first of our own good.

Especially those of us who are privileged
by virtue of our education,
our race, our gender,
and yes, our religion,
if we are members of the majority religion.

Others
are our teachers.

The poor and the uneducated will teach you.

The one you fear will teach you.

Your own fear will teach you.

We have to school ourselves
for solidarity.

It is hard for all of us.

Those of us who are older,
who have some experience and perhaps some wisdom
can lock ourselves inside that experience
and wall off new insight.
We need to remember that wisdom will come
from those half our age
and from territory
where we have not ventured
over the years
out of fear
or habit
or laziness.

Those of us who are younger
who are still figuring out who we are,
building our egos,
shoring them up,
and in the process resisting and reacting,
which is good and part of the journey,
may find out we need to ease up
to let wisdom in.


Solidarity:
this will cost you.
This will cost us.

Wherever we draw our inspiration and our strength,
whatever our primary community,
of faith
or blood
or friendship
there will be a cost.

So again,
ask yourselves:

Given the state of the world,
given the misunderstanding, the bias, the hatred,
and given the hope and vision that others
here and elsewhere
have shared with me,
how will I spend these college years?

I urge you,
spend these years equipping yourselves.

And do remind us who teach
that we need to equip ourselves
and school ourselves as well
for the path of peace.

Solidarity is not just today.

Solidarity is a long road.

Learning about each other takes time.

The Torah and the rest of the Tanakh,
the Christian Bible,
the Holy Qur’an:
the riches in them,
the commentaries on them
the disagreements about them
take years to study.

The traditions of the children of Abraham
take years to understand.

So do the traditions of the children of Sarah,
of Hajar (her Muslim name – Jews and Christians call her Hagar),
of Mary, who is also Mariam and Miriam.

Some traditions are written, others not.
They are also part of our collective story
and may take even more discernment and insight
to learn and understand.

Can we take the time for this?

Can we learn
not to make assumptions
about why someone covers her head with a scarf?
Can we learn not to make fun of people
who live by a different calendar from ours
or won’t do business one day a week?
Or of people who lay a mat on the floor to pray
or fall into the joyous ecstasy of Pentecostal Christian worship
or use images in prayer?

Can we learn not to make haste?

How do we learn to discern
when to choose holy patience
and when to choose holy impatience?

How do we learn to listen?

All this requires practice.

Daily.

More than daily.

Zen Buddhists would call some of this
the practice of mindfulness.

How do we take a breath
and not rush to reaction?

Can we learn
what gives the other person sorrow
but also what gives this person joy?

Can we try to understand
the whole person before us?

Will we also learn to understand systems and communities?

Can we acquire understanding of how
the many media and modes of communication
work
and of how they shape our perceptions?

Can we learn to understand
our own emotions and reactions?

We can’t do this alone.

We can’t do this without community.

It starts right here.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Holocaust map - Europe and the teaching of 20th century theology

The link to this map doesn't work, but I saved the image as a jpg.

I am linking a Facebook post to this since the link is cranky and refuses to show up on Facebook.

Make sure you click on the image to enlarge it. (Click twice and it will get really big and detailed.)

Post on Facebook:

Map for the little darlings to study. Yeah, I'm teaching a Christian theology course and they are also getting a good dose of theological vocabulary & questions. But woe unto those who study European theologies in the mid-20th century & after without looking this in the face. And without asking whether & how this affects the questions & the language. And how we understand God. And how theology & ethics are related. And what responsibilities Christians bear.

End of speech. I'm off to edit the Tome.


Monday, August 9, 2010

An Open Letter to Anne Rice

My open letter to Anne Rice, an essay on the church, its flaws, and why you can't be a Jesus-person alone in a corner, is up at the Episcopal Café.

Feel free to circulate prn.

Cross-posted on Facebook.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

The Sermon to the Snakes

"What is the whole of our existence," said Father Damien, practicing his sermon from the new pulpit, "but the sound of an appalling love?"

The snakes slid quietly among the feet of the empty pews.

"What is the question we spend our entire lives asking? Our question is this: Are we loved? I don't mean by one another. Are we loved by the one who made us? Constantly, we look for evidence. In the gifts we are given--children, good weather, money, a happy marriage perhaps--we find assurance. In contrast, our pains, illnesses, the deaths of those we love, our poverty, our innocent misfortunes--those we take as signs that God has somehow turned away. But, my friends, what exactly is love here? How to define it? Does God's love work in our lives? Or is God's love, perhaps, something very different from what we think we know?

"Divine love may be so large it cannot see us.

"Or it may be so infinitely tiny that it works on a level where it directs us like an unknown substance buried in our blood.

"Or it may be transparent, an invisible screen, a filter through which we see and hear all that is created.

"Oh my friends..."

The snakes lifted their bullet-smooth heads, flickered their tongues to catch the vibrations of the sounds the being made somewhere before them.

"I am like you," said Father Damien to the snakes, "curious and small." He dropped his arms. "Like you, I poise alertly and open my senses to try to read the air, the clouds, the sun's slant, the little movements of the animals, all in the hope I will learn the secret of whether I am loved."

The snakes coiled and recoiled, curved over and underneath themselves.

"If I am loved," Father Damien went on, "it is a merciless and exacting love against which I have no defense. If I am not loved, then I am being pitilessly manipulated by a force I cannot withstand, either, and so it is all the same. I must do what I must do. Go in peace."

He lifted his hand, blessed the snakes, and then lay down full length in a pew and slept there for the rest of the afternoon.

Louise Erdrich
The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse
(c) 2001
2002 paperpack, HarperPerennial, pp. 226-227


Thursday, October 22, 2009

Not so random theological quotes

I am convalescing. Whether or not the bug was H1N1 is unclear, since I have half of the symptoms from the "nope, it's not H1N1" column and half the symptoms from the "yup, you got it" column. Either way, I have been sick, without a fever but with a lot of lung involvement and some head and nose heaviness as well. The latter went away relatively fast; the former is lingering. Much better the last two days, though.

I am back at work at my theological writing during this fall break (which gave me the time to be sick and sleep and now gives me the time to think a little). I'm up against a deadline, so the time for coherent posts has not yet returned, but I'll share with you some quotes from the works of authors I have been reading and about whom I have been writing.

So this first. We're not in light material here.

To believe in God means to take sides with life and to end our alliance with death. It means to stop killing and wanting to kill, and to do battle with apathy which is so akin to killing. It means an end to the fear of dying and to its counterpart, the fear of failure. To take sides with life means to stop looking for some neutral ground between murderers and their victims and to cease looking upon the world as a supermarket in which we can buy anything we want so long as the price is right and the system is preserved.

******-- Dorothee Sölle, Death by Bread Alone
********(German original 1975; English, 1978)

Reminder:

But he answered, ‘It is written, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4)

More Sölle:

****Taking sides with life is not an easy or simple thing, It involves a never-ending process of change whereby we constantly renounce the self that is dead and enamored of death and instead become free to love life. To take sides with life and experience how we can transcend ourselves is a process that has many names and faces. Religion is one of those names. Religion can mean the radical and wholehearted attempt to take sides with life. ...

****What I have to say is said from a particular point of view. I am a Christian. When I seek help against that ever-present death by bread alone I turn instinctively to Jesus Christ, learning from him how to fight and conquer death. I do not claim, however, that this way is the only way to do so. I know many Jewish, humanist, socialist individuals and groups who, with the help of other guides and patrons and saints, fight the same battle and have similar experiences. As far as I am concerned it is not important or necessary that we all embrace the same faith, perhaps some common faith of humanity, What is important is that people be able to communicated and share their religious experiences.

****Turning to religion must not mean turning away from each other but rather turning to each other. When I try to say what Christ means to me, threatened as I am by the strangling death that is all around us, I am trying to speak about the steps that can lead all of us out of the prevailing state of death. The recollection of Jesus derives its power not from “one-way” slogans and bumper-sticker theology but from what that recollection says about happiness, peace, love, and justice. It speaks of those things not as requirements or demands to be imposed upon humanity, but as things that can and do happen in the lives of each of us. One of the things the Jesus tradition says is that learning to love means also–indeed primarily–learning to die, and therein lies the offer of finding our identity.

**** Jesus took sides with life. He battled against death wherever he found it: the death of outcast lepers with whom none would speak, whom none would touch; the death of the publicans whom society held in utter contempt; the physical death of those who had not yet begun to live. Here note must be made of something without which Jesus’ relationship to death cannot be understood. Neither Jesus nor those who, like him, battle against violent death looked upon a physical death as the worst thing that can happen to us. They feared a life that is ruled and controlled by death more than they feared death itself…. For Jesus and others like him natural death is by no means the greatest enemy.

****But Jesus’ attitude toward death and that of others like him is contrary to ours. We prefer to cling tenaciously to the “honeysweet Christ.” We want no part of the Christ of vinegar and gall. We accept more or less as fate the kind of death that surrounds us in all its forms, the kind of death imposed by society’s structures and forces; war and starvation; robotized, impersonal existence; the monotony and routine of going through the motions of living. But what we struggle against is natural death from sickness and age, regarding it as our bitterest foe. It is natural death that we fight and resist with every means at our disposal. …

****The desire for a future life and for some form of continued personal existence is most deeply rooted in the resistance to death of those who have not lived an authentic and genuine life. The only weapon against such death is that of love. Those who die without ever having plunged into the stream of love die a hopeless death. Death can be accepted only by those who know what it means to live. Only they can take sides with life against the death that comes by bread alone.

****Being a Christian means that we have passed from death to life. We have gone beyond death. In the case of a Christian, the biological order of birth followed by death is reversed. The Christian dies first, then [s]he is born. Passing from death to life, the individual Christian will not need such a crutch as the hope of reunion in heaven with loved ones. Nor will the Christian need the crutch of a hope for continued personal existence in a heavenly realm. Absolutely nothing –not even the knowledge of our transitory personal existence—can separate us from the love of God.


************-- Dorothee Sölle, Death by Bread Alone


Discuss...

Image: "Jesus of the People" by Janet McKenzie

Friday, May 29, 2009

Lost Things and the Power of Memory


My latest essay, "Lost Things and the Power of Memory," is up at the Episcopal Café today. The Café welcomes your comments. (If you don't already have a login there you'll have to get one, but it's free and easy. See here.)

I've also posted the link on Facebook.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Cecilia's Sunday sermon

Read it.

This sermon is the Sunday worship follow-up to this and this.

I have two words in response: wow and amen.


Music for the occasion: Four movements from the same piece (Bach's Magnificat) from which I posted in the last two updates on Cecilia.

This is out of order since it is the 2d movement, but it is appropriate: Et exsultavit.

And the next two movements: Quia respexit and (especially) Omnes generationes.

And this, the 11th movement: Sic locutus.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Atheists have got it all wrong - in some of the same ways as fundamentalists, says Eagleton in new book

Very good article about Terry Eagleton's latest book. MadPriest may have posted about the book already since he keeps a watch on this issue, but this article is hot off the virtual press in today's edition of Salon.com.

...Atheists of the Ditchkins persuasion have raised valid points about the sordid social and political history of religion, with which Eagleton largely agrees. Yet their arguments are fatally undermined by their own unacknowledged dogmas and doctrines, he goes on to say, and they completely fail to understand Christian faith (or any other kind) except in its stupidest and most literal-minded form.

A few years ago, I read an article by a Roman Catholic theologian who wryly observed that the quality of Western atheism had gone steadily downhill since Nietzsche. Eagleton heartily concurs....

....Eagleton further argues that not only is the Ditchkinsian version of traditional Judeo-Christian belief a travesty, in which God is envisioned as an unproven and improbable creature like the yeti or the Loch Ness monster, but that this strain of post-Enlightenment atheism cannot comprehend the character of religious faith at all. The creedal declaration "I believe in God" is a statement of action and will; it is performative rather than assertive. ...

... Eagleton declares where his true disagreement with Richard Dawkins lies, which does not directly concern the existence of God or the role of science. "The difference between Ditchkins and radicals like myself," he writes, "hinges on whether it is true that the ultimate signifier of the human condition is the tortured and murdered body of a political criminal, and what the implications of this are for living."

Read on.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

April 4: two MLK anniversaries and a third, with the Freedom Seder

The Revs. Jesse Jackson and Martin Luther King, Jr. on April 3, 1968, before MLK gave the last speech of his life. Photo: Ken Ross via American RadioWorks. He was assassinated the following day.


Today is the anniversary of the 1968 assassination of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in Memphis, Tennessee.

It is also the anniversary of the "Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence" speech which he gave exactly a year before, on April 4, 1967, at the Riverside Church in New York City.

Although I have posted the speech before, I post it here again for those who have not read or hear it. The link includes audio as well as transcript text. The speech is long but well worth pondering.

A good feature on the last year of King's life (the "Beyond Vietnam" speech, the Memphis sanitation workers' strike, et al.) is here, courtesy of American RadioWorks. It includes both text and audio.

And, with thanks to my colleague the Rev. Susan Redfern Spencer (also here), via Facebook, the note below from the Shalom Center and YouTube video:

On April 4, 1969, the first anniversary of the death of Dr. Martin Luther King, the third night of Passover, hundreds of people of varied racial and religious communities gathered in a Black church in the heart of Washington DC to celebrate the original Freedom Seder. For the first time, it intertwined the ancient story of liberation from Pharaoh with the story of Black America's struggle for liberation, and the liberation of other peoples as well.

To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Freedom Seder and to address one of the greatest dangers ever to face the human race --the danger of "global scorching" worse than the traditional "Ten Plagues"-- The Shalom Center has initiated a New Freedom Seder for the Earth was scheduled to sponsor it in Washington DC on March 29, 2009. Here is more information on
the original Freedom Seder and the New Freedom Seder for the Earth. (You can download the text of the Seder for the Earth at that last link.)

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Marcella Althaus-Reid, RIP

This just in from Mary Hunt at WATER. I had no idea Marcella was ill. I did not know her well, only met her once at an academic conference. She was still young. A great loss to the theological world.

IN MEMORY OF HER-- Marcella Althaus-Reid

Theology lost an original voice last Friday, February 20, 2009, when Professor Marcella Althaus-Reid died at Marie Curie Hospice in Edinburgh, Scotland. WATER offers sympathy to her husband, family members, and friends. Those who appreciate creative, bold theology are in her debt.

Marcella was Argentine by birth with a deep commitment to liberation theology. She studied at ISEDET, the Protestant theological faculty in Buenos Aires, and received her doctorate at the University of St. Andrews. She insisted that issues of body and sexuality need to be interwoven with other liberation concerns. Feminist and queer commitments informed her unique and important work.

She held the Chair of Contextual Theology in the School of Divinity, at the University of Edinburgh. See http://www.div.ed.ac.uk/marcellamari for a biographical sketch and bibliography. She was the author of the widely acclaimed Indecent Theology, among many other books.

Marcella Althaus-Reid’s work will echo for generations to come.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Also on "Talk of the Nation:" MLK's challenging words

If anyone still lives under the delusion that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. only spoke of holding hands and singing Kumbaya, that person would do well to listen to the final segment (twenty minutes before the hour, mas o menos) of "Talk of the Nation." The show mentioned below offers to us one of Dr. King's most eloquent speeches.

It is the "I Have a Dream" speech, but in full, with the criticism and prophecy -- not just the final few sentences everyone knows and quotes.

Listen. Listen.


The speech is also available here. It will be up at NPR via the link above (the green words) this evening.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Follow-up on the sermon

Attentive eleven-year-old to rector of All Saints, an hour or so after Jane's sermon, sometime during the Christmas Pageant rehearsal:

"So, if Mary AND Joseph AND Jesus were Jewish, why are we not all Jewish instead of Christian?"

Saturday, December 6, 2008

A sermon for the First Sunday in Advent (yes, last Sunday)

Sorry for the delay. I had to fiddle with the middle of this, which I changed as I was preaching it. Didn't have time to fiddle till this evening. It's not 100% the sermon I preached or 100% the sermon I wrote, but it's close. No preaching tomorrow: as I noted below, I am in the Boston area visiting family.

Remember: it's never too late to be mindful. Start now.


First Sunday of Advent (Year B, RCL)
November 30, 2008
St. Mary's House, Greensboro

Isaiah 64:1-9
Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37


Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. … And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake. (Mark 13:33, 37.)

So much for Advent being a season of gentleness.

Today’s lessons for the first Sunday of Advent
have no expectant young Mary,
no joyful song of justice.The baby Jesus is nowhere to be seen,
not even as a twinkle in someone’s eye.
The Gospel is about as earth-shaking as it gets:
****the sun will be darkened,
****and the moon will not give its light,
****and the stars will be falling from heaven,
****and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

And all this will happen after great suffering
and before the Son of Man
comes at the end of time
and makes his power known to the ends of the earth,
and indeed to the ends of heaven.


This Gospel passage is known as “The Little Apocalypse,”
and its images and vocabulary are not unlike those
in the Apocalypse of John, also called
the Book of Revelation.
They also echo the words of the prophet Joel
in the Hebrew Scriptures.

Even more than cosmic revolution,
these words announce a shaking
of the very foundations
on which we stand,
of the sheltering safety above our heads.
They even announce the extinction
of the lights by which
we usually see.

The biblical passages appointed for today
are not really so different from
those of the last few weeks,
with their end-time themes and disturbing images.

On this first day of the church’s year
are we back at the end?

Is the end of time
what Advent is about?

Well, yes.

Though not only.

In this culture’s season of buying
and buying
and even in our Advent emphasis
on waiting for the Christ child,
it is easy to forget
that Advent is a season of the presence of God
in three ways:
****waiting and hope for the birth of Christ,
****attention to God’s incarnate presence here and now,
****and hope and expectation for the final fulfillment,
****for a future that is God’s future.
It is easy to forget.
Fortunately, we have church.


The liturgy, the scriptures, and the customs of Advent
all focus us on some dimension of the Incarnation.
But another way of looking at Advent,
a way on which I invite you to dwell today,
is that it is a season to examine
the reality of time:
****time in our lives
****and the presence of God in time.

You may have noticed how much the reality of time
is present in today’s readings --
in Mark’s Gospel especially withthe expectation of the Son of Man,
the fig tree and its growth,
the vision beyond this generation,
the view to the future.

Today is the first day of the new year –
--the new church year, that is.
It is a doorway,
a gate
into both mystery and insight.

We remember, in this season,
how God’s time
encounters our time.
They are one time, though we do not always perceive it.
They are one time, though our experience of this time is often painful.
In this time the future belongs to God, though we are a part of it.
It is not, in the Gospel, a reassuring future.
Still, the One whom the Psalmist calls the Shepherd of Israel
shepherds us not just in space but in time.
God shepherds us through time.

In time, too, we encounter our faults and our failings.
The lessons today speak of judgment and sin
in a way we cannot avoid.
Entering this season
We cannot deny
the wounds of the world
or our own.

We know and proclaim God’s goodness
in everyday creation.
Still, entering Advent,
we know our brokenness,
perceive our need for God,
our incompleteness,
the place of despair and grief
where hope is born.

Truth be told,
hope is not born anywhere else.

Long Island and Mumbai
are not about someone else.
It is we human creatures
who rushed to the store
and trampled another human creature;
who fired guns and took hostages ;
who were taken hostage;
who suffered or inflicted suffering
randomly or with intention.

The body of earth is our body
the body of the world is our body
the sky darkens over all of us.

The part of the book of Isaiah we heard
is a book of exiles
returning
bewildered, traumatized.
In the image given to us by the Psalm,
we drink bowls of our own tears --
bowls of tears!

Long Island. Mumbai.
The economy.
The nuclear age.
We cry, with the Psalmist,

Restore us, O God of hosts;
show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.


…show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.

This is not the ordinary light,
not that of electricity,
not even that of the moon and stars,
not that of the sun.
It is
a different light:
the radiant darkness of God
the word that comes to us when the ordinary perceptions have gone.

This may well be why
we have this earth- and heavens-shaking
entry into Advent:
to return us to a different light.

It has become a truism that Advent is a time of waiting
I want to invite you to a quality or practice
that is one of the great riches of another religious tradition,
Zen Buddhism:
that
is mindfulness.


It is not foreign to Christianity
but its Christian form has a different twist
for us as members of a historically oriented religion

This is not to say that our Buddhist sisters and brothers
have no sense of history.
It is that for us, as biblical people,
remembrance is religious practice
because God lives inside history.
So too living in the perspective of God’s future
is religious practice.
And both of these
are practicesof Advent.

But the present
can get squeezed between honoring the past
and looking to the future.

So there you have one of the paradoxes of Advent.
We look forward,
we look back,
we look forward again.
But we also look to the present,
committing mindful acts,
small ones.

These practices help us to notice
how we live in time.

We rediscover sacred history,
not just as something outside ourselves,
but as our own history.
Or to put it the other way around,
we rediscover ourselves
as part of this sacred history.
We live inside of it.
It lives inside of us.

Advent mindfulness:
****mindfulness of what we do
****mindfulness of Christ’s presence in the world now
****mindful waiting
****mindful hope
*******for the fulfillment of all creation.
Note that the Gospel urges upon us
mindful hope –
not mindless speculation about when this final fulfillment will happen.

Mindfulness is difficult.
The attentiveness and staying awake
of which Jesus speaks
are hard.
Mindfulness, not acting on reflexes
is most difficult of all
with our families,
whether our family of origin
or our family of choice.
Practice
is helpful.

Despite the disruptive power of today’s biblical images
most of us do not experience,
and the church does not celebrate,
one great crash landing into the arms of Jesus
though some people do experience this.

But even if they do,
then what?

Advent candles.
Advent calendars.

I will be sending you this afternoon
links to a couple of online calendars for Advent;
there are others, of course.

Advent calendars.
Candles on a wreath.

One small practice,
one gaze at a time,
one focus,
can help us be attentive
to both the mystery
and the plain and daily presence
of God.

Small practices,
day after day, can also remind us:
faithfulness is part of who God is.
Faithfulness is a quality of God in time.
Let me say that again:
faithfulness is a quality of God in time.

I have recently discovered the wonderful Advent blog
of artist, writer, and Methodist minister Jan Richardson.
On it, she writes,
****The older I get, the more I think of God as the Ancient of Days,
****the Holy One of the Long Haul,
****who seems so deeply fond of working things out over vast expanses of time.

This, she adds, is the aspect of God that calls us to trust,
that challenges us to step out
without being able to see what’s ahead.

Taking small steps,
Mindful,
with the cosmic message
resonating within us,
we enter the gateway of Advent together.

We carry our brokenness and our longings
into our prayer.
We let the prayer of the community called church
carry us to the deep places within us,
carry us to the world’s pain,
and see God’s presence
within and with it,
in God’s light,
which begins in darkness.

God’s is a radiant darkness.

Our time is in God’s time.

Stay awake. God is faithful. Walk mindfully.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

God's Own Country

God's Own Country: Power and the Religious Right in the USA. A new book by Stephen Bates.

Only published in the UK for now, though there would have been time to bring it out in the U.S. of A. before the election. You can get it from Amazon UK, though.

Hat tip to Simon Sarmiento at Thinking Anglicans.

42 days.

Brought to you by your daily ¡Si, se puede!

Activated till the polls close on November 4.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

July 22: Mary of Magdala

Blog flashback: last year on this feast...

Mary of Magdala, Disciple, Friend of Jesus, Witness, Apostle
(A sermon for the feast.)



"Companion: Magdalene with Joanna and Susanna"
Part of a triptych by Janet McKenzie, The Nativity Project: The Succession of Mary Magdalene

Thursday, June 19, 2008

N.T. Wright on the Colbert Report

Even as I write.

You can catch the video online on the website. Which is what I plan to do, because it is time for some sleep.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Interfaith peace delegation to Iran - and a woman rabbi speaks in Tehran

My friend Ethan Vesely-Flad, who works for the Fellowship of Reconciliation and with whom I helped start the East Bay chapter of the Episcopal Peace Fellowship some years ago when we were both living in the San Francisco Bay Area (East Bay means Berkeley, Oakland, and environs), is in Iran with an interfaith peace delegation.

You read that right, Iran. One of the members of the delegation is Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb and she recently stood before an Orthodox Jewish congregation in Tehran, a historical first.

Ethan, who edits FOR's magazine, Fellowship, is reporting on the trip. You can read about it on the FOR blog here.

Make sure you click the "read more" words so you can read the full stories. The home page of the blog just shows the first paragraph of each blog entry. Read the one about Lynn under "Climbing mountains, making history." (Direct link to the story here.)

Blogging will be scarce in this space for a few days again while I take some more writing time to work on a Big Theological Tome (and also on the required year-end reports - more of the romantic life of academe), but Ethan's writing is much more worthy of your attention right now than my writing, so enjoy and ponder.

It's worth exploring the whole FOR homepage and links too. Scroll all the way down on that page, there is a wealth of information.

A few prayers for the interfaith delegation wouldn't hurt, either.