Christmas Eve?

A young couple, traveling through Kingsport on their way to Washington DC, were forced to stop their journey becaue the wife was in labor. It took all the money they had to make the trip to the capitol but they were hoping that they could get help from their representative. They had written to him asking for assistance but their letters were never answered. So, despite Mary's condition, she and Joseph decided that the only wat to get help was to plant themselves in their congressmans' office. Little did they know, he had gone to the islands for Christmas and his office was closed until late January.

Joseph drove their old jalopy into Kingsport, following the big blue signs with an H on them. he wanted a doctor to see Marry and, if this really was the time for their son to be born, perhaps the hospital would deliver the baby even though they had no insurance. But the hospital turned them away.

So they drove downtown, trying to find some place to stay and give birth. All the agencies were closed for the holidays and the Salvation Army could only provide a bag lunch as all their beds were full that night. The couple knocked on all the church doors but everyone was busy singing Christmas carols and the ushers didn't like the way the couple was dressed.

Mary and Joseph kept driving around but could find nowhere willing to let them stay. Their credit cards were maxed out and none of the motel operators were willing to take a chance that the bill would get paid.

Finally, they decided to take shelter on a loading dock on Stone Drive. It was clear to them that Mary couldn't go any further. And there she had the baby. Joseph looked through the dumpster and found some boxes and wrapping materials to make a bed of sorts for the child and scrounged some more to find bubble wwrap and more cardboard to keep them all warm.

There was a security guard patrolling the parking lot. She was the activity over on the loading dock and decided she'd better check it out. The closer she got, the more she realized there was something different about these vagrants. And then she saw the child.

Well, she went right up and asked Joseph if there was anything she could do for them. He smiled and thanked her for her consideration. He allowed as how they could use a bite to eat. So the guard went right up the hill to Kroger and started looking for things they could eat without having to heat them first. She found some blankets, too, and added them to the cart. When she got to the checkout, she told the clergy aboud Joseph and Mary. And the clerk told the manager and the manager got on the loudspeaker and told everyone in the store. Pretty son, everyone was picking up groceries, socks, diapers and baby wipes and heading for the checkout. All the store staff rushed to help them check out and quickly locked up the store.

Then all of those people rushed to their cars and followed the security guard to the place where the baby lay. It wasn't hard to find because there was a great big star shining over the loading dock by this time. Everyone unloaded their gifts into Joseph's car and then went to see the baby. They stayed and stayed, reluctant to leave because there was something about this scene that woke a distant memory in each of them.

And then one of the store clerks remembered. "For see - I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord." And she was so surprised that she blurted it out! Everyone's heds came up and they looked at each other realizing that the clerk had it right.

Someone began singing Silent Night and slowly, everyone else joined in. Even those who hadn't sung it since they were little children remembered the words.

And suddenly, there was with the people a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest heave, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!"

Just another Wednesday?

There is a rhythm to the life of a parish priest. It is based first on the weekly liturgies and the work that goes into making sure they go well. Sermon preparation is ongoing starting Monday and, in a good week, might be completed by Thursday.
Then there are calls to folks who need checking up on, mostly for health reasons, and home communions. Youth Group is a weekly occurrence and some planning is required for that. We are a small enough church that there aren't a whole lot of meeetings and that's nice. I enjoy the ones we do have more that way.

But sometimes, a nice quiet week on the calendar can turn into a whirlwind of activity. The call asking for a ride to the doctor an hour and a half away. The day the phone rings off the hook like this morning. People stopping by for one thing and another - this morning's impromptu question about our theology of when the Spirit comes within us! - and emails that require attention right away or need more time and study before answers can be written.

My ex used to say there were days when all he did was put out fires. That's an apt description of the life of a priest. Even when it is a scheduled fire, like a meeting or a counseling session, it's still putting out fires.

No one teaches you how to do that in seminary! Although, if you listen closely when professors talk about their days in the parish, you can pick up the basic knowledge that life will often be about putting out fires. Still, the necessary tools are not sold in the bookstore or lectured about in any class.

The key is not to turn a match into a roaring blaze. I try to start by not adding any accelerant to the conversation. And listening, asking a few questions - bot not too many! - helps slow the burn. If we are lucky, the fire goes out as quickly as it began.

I am a fan of chaos so I don't want my days to be regimented and strictly ordered. But I did learn about organization when I was a librarian and I find it helpful to pull out those lessons now and then. Otherwise, I would need cloning in order to be in more than one scheduled place at a time. ;-)

Regardless of how long the day or how many unexpected events occur, today is in so many ways just another Wednesday. A day the Lord has made, a day I've tried to remember all I have to do and maybe even gotten most of it done. A day to be cherished and to give thanks for.

OMG! Proverbs 31:10-31

Even my secretary expressed offense at the fact that we are reading this lesson tomorrow morning. I automatically determined that it would not receive homiletical comment in *my* church. But then, at a meeting of women on Thursday, I began to think more about why I really dislike this description of the capable wife.

Basically, this is a classic example of reading ancient passages with eyes of the 21st century. I would guess that none of the teenagers in the congregation can relate to this passage at all. They have likely never met this woman. Frankly, when I think of my grandmothers, as much as I loved them and see some of these traits in their lives, I can't say they were as selfless as this virtuous wife. I see my mother in some of it and my mother-in-law in there, too. But this image of a woman who worked 24/7, ran the household, bought and planted the vinyards, made all the clothes and out of the best fabrics, laughed in the face of the future, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, doesn't ring true for me. She's too good. I am inclined to think that a group of men sat over their wine one evening and decided to imagine "the perfect wife." Good of them to toss in a line about loving the Lord while they were at it.

The problem here is that we are more than a few centuries away from this particular time in history and we have no idea what on earth is so great about giving your whole life to make your husband look good. For that matter, it doesn't read well if the genders are reversed either, does it? Do any of us want a husband who spends his whole life making us look good as we sit in the city gates doing woman's work?

All too often, we like to slide past the parts of Scripture we don't like. Some folks skip straight from Genesis and Exodus - the stories are good - stop off at Psalms for a bit and then head straight for the New Testament, giving a short nod to Isaiah on the way. Obviously, the great lectionary gurus thought we ought not to do that. So does Proverbs 31:10-31 have anything to say to us?

Since it is linked with Mark 9:30-37, I think it just might have some use. Mark tells the disciples once again that he will be killed and rise again but they didn't understand. So they chose to discuss who among them was the greatest. You know the story. Jesus asks them what they were talking about, they have to confess and he tells them that the one who is first is really last and servant to all even to the point of welcoming little children, the very least of all humanity.

In other words, if we want to be welcomed into the Kingdom by God, we need to be more like the capable wife. We need to fight for the needs of our family - remember the Kingdom family is a lot larger than who live in our houses - and make sure everyone has warm clothing for the winter. We need to laugh and be happy because we are daily engaged in the work of the family and in proclaiming the greatness of the head of our household.

And there is one particular line in Proverbs that speaks directly to the image of Jesus with the child: "She opens her hand to the poor, and reaches out her hands to the needy." Children in our world have a lot more power than they did in Jesus' time. But the poor are the most helpless today. They have no voice. Without a residence, they have no way to access the miserable system of red tape we have devised in order to secure food and shelter for themselves and their children. One in four children in this country live in poverty. That means an awful lot of adults are there, too, adults who are fighting for their families just as hard as the capable wife. But they have no way to buy a vinyard or the cloth to make fine linen garments of the richest colors.

That's where we disciples come in. Forget about being first, last or coming in a good second. Spend all that energy seeking ways to help those who cannot help themselves. Don't add to their burden by asking them whether they are truly needy. Just feed them, give them warm clothing and a place to stay.

I talked with a priest today who told me his congregation is losing members because the folks who run the soup kitchen at his church refuse to turn away people who have come from other towns. The feeling of those leaving is that they should only feed those who live in their town - not a town that looks to have a lot of hungry people in it to start with. But the organizers won't turn anyone away and they haven't run out of food yet. In fact, they have helped organize another soup kitchen in a neighboring town. This is what Jesus calls us to do. Willingly, happily, with no strings attached.

So despite the feminist hackles that go up as soon as we hear Proverbs 31, there is something about this amazing surreal woman that can still teach us how to live, how to raise up our bridegroom and pay no attention to our own status. Don't you just hate it when what you want to ignore turns out to have something to teach you? :-)

John 6:56-69

"This teaching is difficult," they said. "It's too hard. Who can accept it?"

Probably the first time I said "it's too hard" was in algebra class. And despite my parents' urging to try, try again, I gave up quickly and skated by on poor grades. Then there was the zipper I couldn't seem to get into a suede cloth jumper. After the third try, I said, "this is impossible. It can't be done." My mother, with her teeth gritted, said, "oh yes it can!" and went to the sewing machine and did it in no time at all.

One of the things I believe my generation (boomers) has to answer for the most is the way we deal with "this is difficult/too hard." Even those of us who never bought into "free love" liked the idea of "if it feels good, do it." Difficult things don't feel good, at least not right away. So we walked away from the hard things, especially in our faith as we asked, "how can God allow this to happen?"

Eventually we came back for the most part. Our parents might say that we finally grew up. We started doing the difficult things - working real jobs, raising families, learning to budget our money - because we didn't really have a choice. There was no one else to do it for us. But we didn't teach our children to tackle the difficult things, did we? We particularly didn't manage to teach them the importance of belonging to a faith community.

I remember the next time I said "this is too hard." It was when my dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, late stage. I was talking to my mother-in-law. I told her that losing a parent was too hard and that I didn't want to do it this time, let alone three more times. She merely said, "you don't have a choice."

It is true there are difficult things that we can't walk away from. But difficult teachings is another matter. I have friends who have left their faith behind because someone died, because someone didn't die soon enough, because they didn't like the priest, because the new hymns replaced old familiar ones, because the size/shape/ethnicity/sexuality of the congregation changed and they couldn't deal with it. Too many of them, confusing faith in the Christ with membership in a worshiping community, walked out.

Peter has the right of it in his answer to Jesus. Jesus asks, "do you also wish to go away?" and Peter answers, "Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God."

When people tell me they are leaving The Episcopal Church, the first question I ask is whether they have found another church. We humans need a church to help nurture and support our faith when it wobbles. If those who want to leave TEC haven't got somewhere else to go, I urge them not to leave. If they have found another community that is more nurturing and supportive, then I urge them to become a part of it with my blessing.

But the difficult teachings don't go away just because we change congregations or denominations. They are always there, poking and prodding us.

The teaching of Jesus is difficult, sometimes too difficult. That is when we turn to our brothers and sisters in faith. Sometimes all we need is their presence with us. Sometimes we need them to listen to our doubts and questions and help us come to understand better. After all, we are supposed to grow in faith, not rise from baptism fully formed. You don't teach a child to count from one to ten and then put them in an advanced calculus class.

But once we have come to believe, there really is nowhere else to go. Leaving doesn't help solve the difficult things. Staying might not, either, but choosing to stay means we have chosen to continue working on the hard teachings. And just because Jesus no longer walks among us teaching in parables doesn't mean the difficult teaching isn't still going on.

Difficult teaching makes us uncomfortable. It's supposed to. If we have made ourselves a cozy nest of our faith, a hammock that rocks us gently in the shade of the trees, then we are not working hard enough on being faithful. Reread the gospels. Go back and hear what Paul wrote while he sat in prison. Nowhere will you find Easy Street. Almost everywhere you will find challenges, obstacles, tests, hard teachings. Paul speaks of being a prisoner in the Lord. This is not an image of comfort yet it is a state of being that Paul relished.

So when the teaching is too hard, when there are obstacles in the road, turn to your church family. Ask the hard questions there. You will likely find that others are struggling with the same question.

Story and Public Narrative

One of the things we were asked to do at General Convention this year was telling our stories through the use of Public Narrative. The focus of our conversations was mission. The idea is for each person in the group to tell a one to two minute piece of their story that tells how they began doing mission work. The next step, after hearing each of those stories, is to create the story of the group and then to move the combined story into a story of now - what our combined story is telling us we need to be doing together now.

Public Narrative wasn't my favorite part of the Convention. In fact, we were arranged in table groups with our dioceses and most all of us had done this same exercise - in diocesan groups - at our synod meetings. So, after the first day, we opted out. Frankly, it was time we used to rest and our daily lunches together were, in a less structured way, our time of sharing story and hearing how we need to move forward now that we are home.

But there was one example of Public Narrative - me, us, now - that I realize I didn't share with you all and that I didn't think of in those terms at the time. One day, we had many ecumenical visitors. They were from all kinds of Christian, Jewish and Muslim congregations. One of them spoke to us and then asked a cantor, a muezzin and a priest to chant the Abrahamic Prayer that we share in common (The Lord bless you and keep you....). The cantor began and his chant transported us all. As he ended, the muezzin took up the prayer with equal power. He was followed by the priest whose chant was Anglican in form. And then all three of them chanted together. Rather, they chanted in their own style at the same time, sometimes creating blissful harmony and at other times dissonance that should have been jarring but seemed to be right.

When the last note faded away, our combined story woven together in incomparable manner, the need to love, honor and respect our brothers and sisters of all faiths was made clear. We don't have to sing the same tune. There doesn't have to be perfect harmony. But we must recognize our common bond and work together for the peace we cannot achieve separately.

Done!

We have concurred, adopted, amended, heard millions of points of personal privilege or clarification, moved to suspend the rules, moved to change the rules, probably moved to ignore the rules forever and still finished all of the remaining business by 4:30 pm on the last day.

I have carefully weeded out my five inch wide three ring binder and thrown out all the now useless paper. My Blue Book is about to be deep sixed here in my room. For those of you who are concerned about the environment, this area sorts and recycles anything that can be recycled, something I wish more cities, counties and states would consider. So all of that paper as well as the cardboard cover of the notebook and the metal binder will find itself becoming something else.

It is now time to pack, to discover just how much I can get in my suitcase, how much will go in my backpack and what "extra" bag I can pass off as my purse for boarding purposes. I don't think there is much more I can throw out at this point and I have done my best not to pick up and/or buy too much in the exhibit hall while I was here. Okay, there are those two bags of books from Church Publishing but no one who knows me really expects me to pass a book display and come away empty handed. ;-)

For all the times when we wished people would stop talking, when tempers flared and we found ourselves taking sides even if we didn't express that out loud, the tenor of this General Convention has been reasonable. We weren't always quiet in expressing our opinions but, with only two exceptions that I know about, no one was rude or out of line - both times it was the same person.

We do have fun. The rules are a good thing but we tend to break them appropriately. One of them is that we do not applaud; however, when someone is introduced, we usually applaud before being given permission. We sing together in the House. We do laugh, especially the last two days when the president and secretary kept referring to each other by the wrong title and then getting the giggles. And we have been blessed this year with meditation and prayer twice a day done by The Rev. Frank Wade of the Diocese of Washington, a deeply insightful man who has an incredible way with words.

Despite the fact that most of the deputies are over 50, our young deputies are increasing in number and also in voice. They speak well and passionately and I am very proud of them. Since my first General Convention 24 years ago, the number of persons of color has increased dramatically as well. The Episcopal Church is not monochromatic or geriatric as we are often led to believe.

And so dear friends, I bid Anaheim a very fond farewell. I have seen old friends, made new ones and look forward to getting back home to friends and family and my animals.

Money, mission and courtesy

Today began with a special order to consider the budget. We had the rules for the special order read to us. Then we spent more than 30 minutes asking questions about the rules. Then we began talking about the budget and promptly forgot the rules. When we finally settled down, it was almost time to go to Eucharist. We started at 9:30 and hadn't adopted the budget by 11:30. I give thanks that this is not how we do business in East Tennessee!

After church and lunch, we did finally adopt the budget but the last 19 minutes of debate took us about 45 minutes. Except that there were no commercials or color announcers, passing the budget was much like a football game. What is supposed to take 6o minutes really takes three hours. :-)

And then we put on our running shoes and took off. All the courtesy resolutions have been passed and sent on to the Bishops. We passed resolutions on the environment, the Defense of Marriage Act, Honduras, some changes to the canons and we defeated a resolution to give the Official Youth Presence the vote. A deputy who is about 18 got up and said if the youth presence wanted to vote, they should run for General Convention like everyone else. That pretty much convinced those on the fence!

I had a short meeting of the Prayer Book committee immediately following the 6:00 recess but our legislative day is now over. There is no session tonight for which I know we all give thanks. Many of the EAst Tennessee deputies are heading downstairs to have dinner together, having decided we are just too tired to venture out. I'm having breakfast with a friend - a real breakfast with eggs! - in the morning. This is only the second time I've had the time to go somewhere, sit down and be served that most important meal of the day.

Tomorrow will be the final sprint for the finish line. The finish line will happen even if we are not ready for it. So pray for extra stamina tomorrow and we will see you back in East Tennessee at post-Convention meetings next week. The one for Upper East is at St. Christopher's on the 22nd at 7:00. That's Wednesday night.