I think it is hard for us to remember that the version of the Gospel that we in North America ascribe to in the mainline churches is not a standard or accepted version of the Gospel. We have taken a story, written for the oppressed and molded it to fit our desire to do good while remaining the oppressor.
The Gospel doesn't ask the oppressor to do anything at all for the oppressed. It asks only that the oppressor become one of the oppressed. (Give away all your possessions and come follow me, not start a soup kitchen on Saturday afternoons.) It is the oppressed who are asked to do good to each other in Jesus' name.
If there is any fault in the Anglican ideal (and anyone you ask will have a different idea of what it is, being Anglicanism) it is that it remains trapped in the founding ideal that England ought/need only have one church, neither catholic or reformed. In a post colonial world this translates into a confederation where each nation/culture/confederation of like minded possess the monopoly on Christianity in that local or grouping. We do a lot of ecumenism in a lot of places, and we even engage in some international Anglican crossover, but we persist in believing that location makes right, and that it supercedes common identity.
We are to be forgiven, however, as those two competing ideas are both foundational to Anglicanism. It isn't who gets ordained or what theology that divides us, it is, really, simply, do we believe we are a local church with a preference for ecumenical relations with other churches or are we a global church within various cultural contexts. I suppose it depends on whether you think postmodernism is dead or alive.
Something no one seems to be talking about and that I am wildly interested in is post-Colonial relations between the Anglican remains around the world. We are really busy especially in America funding MDGs in the second and third world but through the Gospel lens that Jesus came to ask the rich to take care of the poor. That is still colonialism, even if you wrap pretty .07 percent ribbons around it, even if you let the people in those countries tear themselves apart in the name of democratic freedom. Mission is the work of the church but giving up all you have and following Christ is how you become the church in order to do the mission.
(Been reading again. Liberation theology and Eric Law and post convention blogs of all stripes.)
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
June 24, 2009
How is my call shaping itself now that
I am in school?
School has perhaps only made me more
committed to the work I do on the anti racism commission. School has
made me more keenly aware of just how stacked the deck is against
people who do not fit a very narrow model of behavior.
Example: Overheard in the cafeteria
between the admissions officer and a student. “We have someone from
the Gulf Coast looking at the school today.” To which the student
replied, “Great, that will really add to our diversity.” I don’t
even know what to do with that. School is overwhelmingly white and
middle class. I am really glad that John and Ellen introduced us to
gin and tonics before we got there because we are pretty outclassed
in the socializing department.
Altogether, I still feel called to the
sacraments. I still feel called to facilitate radical welcome and
communication between people. I summed this up for a fellow student
the other day in this way, so I will just share that. We in the
church are pretty guilty of having a relationship with God that
happens 2/3 up the nave. Which in a decent sized church means you
have to step on a lot of people in your reach for God. Jesus called
us to have a relationship with God that is about 2 feet in front of
us, placing another individual right at arms length. I really feel
called to bring about that change in distance in people’s lives.
A very wise mentor said to me awhile
back that I need to look at those places where I am most angry and
most raw in order to find my ministry. And I am most angry in the way
that we are so unintentional in our welcome to people. We say
inclusive, but that is really, especially in the Bay Area a code word
for gblt friendly. I am, but not at the expense of all the other
people who make church.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Why I am a Christian
I am a Christian for no other reason than one day, in an intellectual stupor, I realized that the breathing, the eating, the shitting, the birthing and the dying were the most important parts of life. And I realized that some dude not only already figured that out, but went on to lead a revolution to that effect 2000 years ago. An entire institution built up around that idea - an idea that is so dangerous to power that an institution was necessary to bottle it up and take away it's power. Ironically, the institution is the very means of preserving and protecting that dangerous truth so that people like me can keep discovering it anew.
Greeting and Hospitality
The very best reason to have your church members wear nametags is so that the ushers can remind people to wear then. When the response is, I don't have a nametag, you have identified a new member without the direct and rude question "Do you belong here?" name tags should also be quasi permanent so that peoples affiliations within the church can be printed as well. Then, while looking at nametags, new people also get a sense of what we are about.
Find the balance between Sunday is for Christians, for us, but strangers will always be present. First, respect that they are strangers. Assuming that someone who has never been to your house before will be perfectly comfortable and know where the bathroom and the knife drawer is, is silly. Don't expect that church is self explainatory. A handler, wrangler, guest services associate/host, call it what you will available for each new person or family that comes in. Take them around, offer them a primer on the particularities of your service. Remember, no one reads signs, thus they are very important.
Primers. A customary for the laity, can include basic catechumanate material FAQ's about the specific building and community, all sorts of things. Rather than reinventing a full service customary for each service, let your actual members worship rather than read. Some things are simply meant to be memorized. The more you read along in church the less you listen. Listening activates a totally different part of the brain. Listening in church is like practicing for life.
Find the balance between Sunday is for Christians, for us, but strangers will always be present. First, respect that they are strangers. Assuming that someone who has never been to your house before will be perfectly comfortable and know where the bathroom and the knife drawer is, is silly. Don't expect that church is self explainatory. A handler, wrangler, guest services associate/host, call it what you will available for each new person or family that comes in. Take them around, offer them a primer on the particularities of your service. Remember, no one reads signs, thus they are very important.
Primers. A customary for the laity, can include basic catechumanate material FAQ's about the specific building and community, all sorts of things. Rather than reinventing a full service customary for each service, let your actual members worship rather than read. Some things are simply meant to be memorized. The more you read along in church the less you listen. Listening activates a totally different part of the brain. Listening in church is like practicing for life.
Cultural Relativism
It occurs to me that we taught cultural relativism to the first culture to truly experience globalism. Can we wonder, then, at the increasing fractionalism/factionalism rather than the "buy a world a coke" phenomenon we were hoping for?
Some ideas in search of a theme
What I learned this year.
Thematically, I need to make this work, Time is Money. Spent a lot of this year pretending that was the case. Time isn't money. It isn't a medium of exchange. It is, perhaps, the fluid in which our communion with God floats. So all of the things that we decide to commodotize into money are places where God has a much harder time being visible to us.
Some other ideas that might not relate
This year I set out to take whatever I thought I might need, time and money. This was a gift to me, because I was doing great deeds and deserved it. Ok, maybe not. But I ended up isolated in my little loft with a view of downtown san francisco and two bridges, which was a nice view, but ultimately lonely.
Thematically, I need to make this work, Time is Money. Spent a lot of this year pretending that was the case. Time isn't money. It isn't a medium of exchange. It is, perhaps, the fluid in which our communion with God floats. So all of the things that we decide to commodotize into money are places where God has a much harder time being visible to us.
Some other ideas that might not relate
This year I set out to take whatever I thought I might need, time and money. This was a gift to me, because I was doing great deeds and deserved it. Ok, maybe not. But I ended up isolated in my little loft with a view of downtown san francisco and two bridges, which was a nice view, but ultimately lonely.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Blessing of Babel
Why is Babel a blessing, instead of a curse?
The tower of Babel was less about people trying to get TO God than it was about people trying to BE God. God, by definition is "not in the box", but it is too easy to box God up when we spend too much time with people like us. As soon as we limit God, we stop looking to God in our lives and we stop allowing for the inbreaking of God's kingdom. The gift of Babel is that we cannot forget about the incarnation of spirit in the world. We cannot reconcile the infinite expression of spirit with any one idea of God. Babel keeps us out of the box.
Babel is the the meeting place of Paul.
"For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness." (Romans 12:4-8)
"There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." (Galatians 3:28)
The tower of Babel was less about people trying to get TO God than it was about people trying to BE God. God, by definition is "not in the box", but it is too easy to box God up when we spend too much time with people like us. As soon as we limit God, we stop looking to God in our lives and we stop allowing for the inbreaking of God's kingdom. The gift of Babel is that we cannot forget about the incarnation of spirit in the world. We cannot reconcile the infinite expression of spirit with any one idea of God. Babel keeps us out of the box.
Babel is the the meeting place of Paul.
"For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us: prophecy, in proportion to faith; ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the giver, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate, in cheerfulness." (Romans 12:4-8)
"There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." (Galatians 3:28)
We in the church are pretty guilty of having a relationship with God that happens 2/3 up the nave. Which in a decent sized church means you have to step on a lot of people in your reach for God. Jesus called us to have a relationship with God that is about 2 feet in front of us, placing another individual right at arms length. I really feel called to bring about that change in distance in people’s lives.
The Secret Lives of Christians
This is what is wandering through my mind at the moment. I haven't edited, so it might not make a lot of sense. Probably more will follow.
I wonder, sometimes, what people are really thinking when they walk into a church on a Sunday morning for the first time. I can’t remember my first Sunday, all I know is that is surely involved Sunday School and probably involved my grandmother, who was the preschool teacher. She made her own playdough, and despite my own attempts, I cannot duplicate her playdough, even with her same recipe. Presumably this is because I am trying to replicate not only the physical consistency but the emotional charge of pure perfect grandmotherly love as well.
Are those seekers, in the parlance, also looking for the emotion of playdough? I wonder.
I suspect that few people outside of the church know much about the secret lives of Christians. But Christians, somewhat surprisingly, do all those things that we remember about Sunday School. We do them all the time. What we don’t do is explain ourselves very well.
I once heard an evangelist talk about churches of a particular size as being full of collies. What he meant was that people are very good to those they know and suspicious of those they don’t. All Christians are very good at this, no matter how many gather on a given Sunday morning.
Why? Why advertise a public meeting and completely ignore any strangers who answer the invitation? Sunday morning is a terrible time to advertise a newcomers meeting. Sunday morning is when we actually let out our secret selves and expose our hidden bellies to each other. Of course we aren’t going to take to strangers on Sunday morning. The churches that evangelize well already know this and they do a lot of door to door. While this annoys some people, it at least recognizes that strangers won’t be comfortable around us, that we won’t be comfortable around them.
All Christians secretly take care of each other. Even when it looks like they are wicked, evil or hateful. Even other Christians won’t necessarily understand the motive, but this is human, not uniquely Christian. We understand the world. We like the people who understand the world in similar ways.
Consequently, lots of Christians shop around for a community that expresses Christianity in a framework they can work with. I do. I have been an awful lot of kinds of Christian. I have been a Baptist. A Mormon. An Atheist. An Episcopalian. I think I am done now. But I am young enough to know that life isn’t done with me yet. And I am grateful for every one of those communities. They have each fed me and nurtured me and loved me and understood me at each of those places in my life.
I was raised a Baptist. A Southern Baptist, in specificity. But Baptist is enough. I understand why so many people are Baptists. I understand why so many people are ex-Baptists, too. Baptists get a lot of flack, and they do a lot of stupid, even hateful things. Don’t we all. Don’t know the Baptists wholesale. They still have something to say to us. They and their ilk are certainly redefining what it means to be an Episcopalian. Those Sunday mornings were the only time I remember my grandmother sitting on the floor, and I lived with her for a time. And when my parents got divorced, the Baptist expression of God the Good Deciding Father and Jesus the Brother who was big enough to hold all the pain life can throw at you, was the only thing that could comfort me. What a blessing it must have been for my mother’s best friend to have something so enormous for a broken little kid to hang onto. That was my conversion experience. I describe it now as my first mental breakdown. I let people assume that telling me that Jesus was holding all my pain and bad gave me a nervous breakdown and that it is a terrible thing to say.
The truth is, that would be a terrible thing to say to my son, who is the same age I was then and the worst thing in his life is a slightly dangerous habit of putting things in his pocket and forgetting about them. His parents are happy and together. They tell him good things about how the world and God loves him. He doesn’t need a God big enough for his pain, be needs a God big enough for his love. I am glad that I can offer him that but I know that is only because I have a God big enough for all my damage.
I didn’t leave the Baptist church because God the Father got to small for me. I say so, but I left because the social contract was broken. Jesus the Brother does not tell your secrets, and the people who listen on behalf of Jesus aren’t supposed to either. The Episcopal Church has a worldview that understands that. That is some of the secret life of Christians that they proclaim and practice – God doesn’t tell secrets. Sometimes they are too good at this. But they come much later.
Mormonism is one of those evangelizing groups that understand that Sunday morning is not the same as Open House. The relationship between God the Father and Jesus the Son is about family. They were the first group of Christians to tell me that there was a woman involved in the mythos of God. Where is she, you might ask? Well, they protect her like a Queen Bee, secret, deep, honored, cherished. The secret that you will never know if you aren’t a Mormon is that it is the mothers for whom the whole system evolves. Who knows what Joseph Smith was experiencing when he transcribed the Book of Mormon, but by the time of Nauvoo, it was all about the mothers. Sure, they have a pretty limited image of mother, but if you can fit the mold, what a glorious existence you might have. Sadly, I am not going to be that sort of mother. But I wish sometimes I could know that I am so loved.
The people I have know to live the Gospels the very best are all ex-Christians. That is the darkest secret I know of Christians. They might preach it, but they often don’t do it. Some are too concerned with self-care, some are too concerned with other –care. It’s the average that could use some work. In all the writings in the Acts of the Apostles, the letters of Paul and the writings we have of Christian communities down through the centuries, the secret is; Christians take care of each other. The very best we will ever do is take care of each other and this is the lesson we take away from Sunday School. It is getting past the barrier of ‘big church’ and Sunday worship that keeps most people who leave churches from coming back. It is that care for each other that ex-Christians hold up most proudly as example of why they are not Christian anymore. I learned more in my life about the social capital of friendship in a group of ex-Christians than I have in any church or any class in school. The lessons of Sunday School run deep. Unfortunately, the waterfall between the safety of youth and the safety of adulthood has a lot of jutting ledges; some get caught on accident, some land on purpose, few make it to the bottom. We could do a lot to make the pool at the bottom look safer.
I went to a Unitarian-Universalist church a few times. I read a notice, a joke really on a signboard outside and I really like it. It was about a worm in a fast stream. I don’t remember the joke, but basically, the stream was wonderful, but the letting go was scary and the worm had to find a way to let go. I like the people I know in UU. They have a wonderful ordinary and practical take on stewardship and money. But the understanding of the world as utterly diverse from micro- to macro-cosom was more than my own understanding could hold.
The last place, really, I could have expected to be was in an Episcopal Church when I found my people. It comes and goes, but on the whole, the Episcopalians do a pretty fair job of being both/and about just about everything to do with Christianity. They have a pretty big heart, but I once heard someone from ‘815,’ which is the street number of the National Offices, call them all a bunch of collies. Very good at sorting out who is in and who is not. Very protective. Very selective. Extremely loyal and a better companion you couldn’t ask for. The interesting thing about Episcopalians is that they are so encompassing across the board that even other Episcopalians need to go through the vetting process before they are determined to be in or out.
We spend a lot of time in the news these days. I was horrified the first time I heard an NPR report on Episcopalians. I hadn’t been one long enough to know that Episcopalians feel this is their due. They don’t want, and are careful of, separation of Church and State. They don’t want to BE established, but they want to pretend they are on TV. For the most part, TV accommodates them on this.
I wonder, sometimes, what people are really thinking when they walk into a church on a Sunday morning for the first time. I can’t remember my first Sunday, all I know is that is surely involved Sunday School and probably involved my grandmother, who was the preschool teacher. She made her own playdough, and despite my own attempts, I cannot duplicate her playdough, even with her same recipe. Presumably this is because I am trying to replicate not only the physical consistency but the emotional charge of pure perfect grandmotherly love as well.
Are those seekers, in the parlance, also looking for the emotion of playdough? I wonder.
I suspect that few people outside of the church know much about the secret lives of Christians. But Christians, somewhat surprisingly, do all those things that we remember about Sunday School. We do them all the time. What we don’t do is explain ourselves very well.
I once heard an evangelist talk about churches of a particular size as being full of collies. What he meant was that people are very good to those they know and suspicious of those they don’t. All Christians are very good at this, no matter how many gather on a given Sunday morning.
Why? Why advertise a public meeting and completely ignore any strangers who answer the invitation? Sunday morning is a terrible time to advertise a newcomers meeting. Sunday morning is when we actually let out our secret selves and expose our hidden bellies to each other. Of course we aren’t going to take to strangers on Sunday morning. The churches that evangelize well already know this and they do a lot of door to door. While this annoys some people, it at least recognizes that strangers won’t be comfortable around us, that we won’t be comfortable around them.
All Christians secretly take care of each other. Even when it looks like they are wicked, evil or hateful. Even other Christians won’t necessarily understand the motive, but this is human, not uniquely Christian. We understand the world. We like the people who understand the world in similar ways.
Consequently, lots of Christians shop around for a community that expresses Christianity in a framework they can work with. I do. I have been an awful lot of kinds of Christian. I have been a Baptist. A Mormon. An Atheist. An Episcopalian. I think I am done now. But I am young enough to know that life isn’t done with me yet. And I am grateful for every one of those communities. They have each fed me and nurtured me and loved me and understood me at each of those places in my life.
I was raised a Baptist. A Southern Baptist, in specificity. But Baptist is enough. I understand why so many people are Baptists. I understand why so many people are ex-Baptists, too. Baptists get a lot of flack, and they do a lot of stupid, even hateful things. Don’t we all. Don’t know the Baptists wholesale. They still have something to say to us. They and their ilk are certainly redefining what it means to be an Episcopalian. Those Sunday mornings were the only time I remember my grandmother sitting on the floor, and I lived with her for a time. And when my parents got divorced, the Baptist expression of God the Good Deciding Father and Jesus the Brother who was big enough to hold all the pain life can throw at you, was the only thing that could comfort me. What a blessing it must have been for my mother’s best friend to have something so enormous for a broken little kid to hang onto. That was my conversion experience. I describe it now as my first mental breakdown. I let people assume that telling me that Jesus was holding all my pain and bad gave me a nervous breakdown and that it is a terrible thing to say.
The truth is, that would be a terrible thing to say to my son, who is the same age I was then and the worst thing in his life is a slightly dangerous habit of putting things in his pocket and forgetting about them. His parents are happy and together. They tell him good things about how the world and God loves him. He doesn’t need a God big enough for his pain, be needs a God big enough for his love. I am glad that I can offer him that but I know that is only because I have a God big enough for all my damage.
I didn’t leave the Baptist church because God the Father got to small for me. I say so, but I left because the social contract was broken. Jesus the Brother does not tell your secrets, and the people who listen on behalf of Jesus aren’t supposed to either. The Episcopal Church has a worldview that understands that. That is some of the secret life of Christians that they proclaim and practice – God doesn’t tell secrets. Sometimes they are too good at this. But they come much later.
Mormonism is one of those evangelizing groups that understand that Sunday morning is not the same as Open House. The relationship between God the Father and Jesus the Son is about family. They were the first group of Christians to tell me that there was a woman involved in the mythos of God. Where is she, you might ask? Well, they protect her like a Queen Bee, secret, deep, honored, cherished. The secret that you will never know if you aren’t a Mormon is that it is the mothers for whom the whole system evolves. Who knows what Joseph Smith was experiencing when he transcribed the Book of Mormon, but by the time of Nauvoo, it was all about the mothers. Sure, they have a pretty limited image of mother, but if you can fit the mold, what a glorious existence you might have. Sadly, I am not going to be that sort of mother. But I wish sometimes I could know that I am so loved.
The people I have know to live the Gospels the very best are all ex-Christians. That is the darkest secret I know of Christians. They might preach it, but they often don’t do it. Some are too concerned with self-care, some are too concerned with other –care. It’s the average that could use some work. In all the writings in the Acts of the Apostles, the letters of Paul and the writings we have of Christian communities down through the centuries, the secret is; Christians take care of each other. The very best we will ever do is take care of each other and this is the lesson we take away from Sunday School. It is getting past the barrier of ‘big church’ and Sunday worship that keeps most people who leave churches from coming back. It is that care for each other that ex-Christians hold up most proudly as example of why they are not Christian anymore. I learned more in my life about the social capital of friendship in a group of ex-Christians than I have in any church or any class in school. The lessons of Sunday School run deep. Unfortunately, the waterfall between the safety of youth and the safety of adulthood has a lot of jutting ledges; some get caught on accident, some land on purpose, few make it to the bottom. We could do a lot to make the pool at the bottom look safer.
I went to a Unitarian-Universalist church a few times. I read a notice, a joke really on a signboard outside and I really like it. It was about a worm in a fast stream. I don’t remember the joke, but basically, the stream was wonderful, but the letting go was scary and the worm had to find a way to let go. I like the people I know in UU. They have a wonderful ordinary and practical take on stewardship and money. But the understanding of the world as utterly diverse from micro- to macro-cosom was more than my own understanding could hold.
The last place, really, I could have expected to be was in an Episcopal Church when I found my people. It comes and goes, but on the whole, the Episcopalians do a pretty fair job of being both/and about just about everything to do with Christianity. They have a pretty big heart, but I once heard someone from ‘815,’ which is the street number of the National Offices, call them all a bunch of collies. Very good at sorting out who is in and who is not. Very protective. Very selective. Extremely loyal and a better companion you couldn’t ask for. The interesting thing about Episcopalians is that they are so encompassing across the board that even other Episcopalians need to go through the vetting process before they are determined to be in or out.
We spend a lot of time in the news these days. I was horrified the first time I heard an NPR report on Episcopalians. I hadn’t been one long enough to know that Episcopalians feel this is their due. They don’t want, and are careful of, separation of Church and State. They don’t want to BE established, but they want to pretend they are on TV. For the most part, TV accommodates them on this.
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Journey Begins
I am going through some of my files. This was a newsletter article I wrote awhile back, ok a year ago. School has really gotten me off kilter. hl
Once upon a time a journey or a pilgrimage was an arduous trip with an uncertain outcome. As great plans were made family and friends would try to talk the voyager out of leaving. People did not always return from voyages, and when they did great changes had occurred in themselves and those they had left behind.
We don’t live in a world of voyages anymore. There are surely a few places on Earth left that qualify, although here in America we travel much and journey little. A trip to the next town, the next state, or even the next continent may all cost something in terms of time and money, but no longer is death a companion.
Consequently, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to talk of our spirituality via the journeying metaphor. But, as other metaphors don’t readily come to mind, it may be that our spiritual journeys were never metaphors at all. For in truth, years go by as we search towards ends we cannot imagine, changes will take us unaware and mold us into new people and new communities, and spiritual death and resurrection are a certainty. And let us not forget that our family and friends often try to talk us out of making spiritual journeys for fear we will take roads they cannot or will not travel with us.
Seminary is surely the ocean passage of this spiritual journey. Here at the beginning, there is no land in sight and the boat feel a little rickety, no matter that it is an ocean liner. The welcome and blessing I have received since arriving have been amazing, especially since so many people come and go in such a short amount of time. But the truth is, I have left home to be here. And while many of the strangers are on the same journey as myself, having come from different places, they will return home, as will I.
Maya Angelou says, “You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right." I expect that the Heather who left St. David’s, Portland in late August will not be the same Heather who graduates in three years. That Heather will never go home again. Instead, a Heather molded by the Father for His purposes will return.
But I also know the truth that I have not left home. I have brought all of you here with me, in prayer and intention. In my few days, I have already met people who struggle alone to interpret God’s will and I know that I am among the most blessed of all people to be lifted up and sustained by the faith of so many people. That you are with me, always, and have been touched by faith regarding this call from the Father is what has made it possible to uproot children and postpone ministry to take this time of formation. It is for all of you that I undertake this work and it is through you and through the Father that it is accomplished. May His will be done.
Heather Lee
The Feast of Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, 2008
Once upon a time a journey or a pilgrimage was an arduous trip with an uncertain outcome. As great plans were made family and friends would try to talk the voyager out of leaving. People did not always return from voyages, and when they did great changes had occurred in themselves and those they had left behind.
We don’t live in a world of voyages anymore. There are surely a few places on Earth left that qualify, although here in America we travel much and journey little. A trip to the next town, the next state, or even the next continent may all cost something in terms of time and money, but no longer is death a companion.
Consequently, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to talk of our spirituality via the journeying metaphor. But, as other metaphors don’t readily come to mind, it may be that our spiritual journeys were never metaphors at all. For in truth, years go by as we search towards ends we cannot imagine, changes will take us unaware and mold us into new people and new communities, and spiritual death and resurrection are a certainty. And let us not forget that our family and friends often try to talk us out of making spiritual journeys for fear we will take roads they cannot or will not travel with us.
Seminary is surely the ocean passage of this spiritual journey. Here at the beginning, there is no land in sight and the boat feel a little rickety, no matter that it is an ocean liner. The welcome and blessing I have received since arriving have been amazing, especially since so many people come and go in such a short amount of time. But the truth is, I have left home to be here. And while many of the strangers are on the same journey as myself, having come from different places, they will return home, as will I.
Maya Angelou says, “You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right." I expect that the Heather who left St. David’s, Portland in late August will not be the same Heather who graduates in three years. That Heather will never go home again. Instead, a Heather molded by the Father for His purposes will return.
But I also know the truth that I have not left home. I have brought all of you here with me, in prayer and intention. In my few days, I have already met people who struggle alone to interpret God’s will and I know that I am among the most blessed of all people to be lifted up and sustained by the faith of so many people. That you are with me, always, and have been touched by faith regarding this call from the Father is what has made it possible to uproot children and postpone ministry to take this time of formation. It is for all of you that I undertake this work and it is through you and through the Father that it is accomplished. May His will be done.
Heather Lee
The Feast of Augustine, Bishop of Hippo, 2008
Sunday, May 3, 2009
When we create worship space, and this is inclusive of everything from the architecture to the tissue boxes, we are creating a sense of community. What the means is we are trying to evoke a feeling of safety and security that is often experienced in childhood and then amplified as the ‘perfect’ understanding of what it means to be cared for. Sometimes this is addressed via the catch all, personal piety of the laity.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Prayers of the People for Remigius
Here is another prayer I wrote. Unfortunately, I was late for chapel and Alene got to read them instead of me.
Lent II-Year One
In as much as we are the Body of Christ, we are the children of God. As we follow the example of Christ and seek God’s will for our lives, let us respond: Christ, show us the way.
For all followers of Christ, past, present and future, who seek to fulfill the glory of your name…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For the leaders of this nation and the leaders of all nations, who seek justice for their people, let us be an example….
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For the whole of creation, for earth and for sky, and for creatures great and small, we seek guidance to live in balance and grace…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For those seeking to join our community, especially praying for the admissions and housing committees as they seek to glorify your name in this community…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For those who fear what the future holds, we seek freedom from fear….
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For those saints already in glory, we seek wisdom and companionship with them…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
Collect
Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles, “Peace I give to you; my own peace I leave with you:” Regard not our sins, but the faith of your Church, and give to us the peace and unity of that heavenly City, where with the Father and the Holy Spirit, you live and reign, now and forever. Amen.
Lent II-Year One
In as much as we are the Body of Christ, we are the children of God. As we follow the example of Christ and seek God’s will for our lives, let us respond: Christ, show us the way.
For all followers of Christ, past, present and future, who seek to fulfill the glory of your name…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For the leaders of this nation and the leaders of all nations, who seek justice for their people, let us be an example….
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For the whole of creation, for earth and for sky, and for creatures great and small, we seek guidance to live in balance and grace…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For those seeking to join our community, especially praying for the admissions and housing committees as they seek to glorify your name in this community…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For those who fear what the future holds, we seek freedom from fear….
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
For those saints already in glory, we seek wisdom and companionship with them…
Response:
Christ, show us the way.
Collect
Lord Jesus Christ, you said to your apostles, “Peace I give to you; my own peace I leave with you:” Regard not our sins, but the faith of your Church, and give to us the peace and unity of that heavenly City, where with the Father and the Holy Spirit, you live and reign, now and forever. Amen.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
First Semester Wrap Up
I have completed my first semester of seminary. It has been a fruitful if sometimes baffling experience. Like many of life’s events – we can listen with our intellect all we want, but until we start, we really don’t understand what they are all about. Seminary has had several of these life lessons for me.
“It’s a full time job.”
I have apparently forgotten what a full time job is like. Somehow, I thought that seminary was going to involve a respite. How much better can life get when your work is to read books you love? Plus, I thought that my 20 hour a week ministry, my 20 hour a week school volunteering, my 20 hour a week managerial job, and my full time family commitments would prepare me for any problems I might face in balancing life and school. This has not been the case. Consequently, many things that I had hoped to do, such as write these letters home more frequently, have been lost in the confusion.
“You must work to maintain your spiritual life.”
I must admit this sounded like complete foolishness to my pre-seminary self. I am in seminary. All of my work and the people around me are engaged in the spiritual life-right? Wrong. I am disappointed to report that when the Bible is required reading, it isn’t any more enlightening than the phone book. Seminary is not three years of monastic retreat, which was my fanciful imagination. Seminary is graduate school, with all the accompanying lectures on plagiarism and citing your source. It has been very hard to hear the Holy Sprit here; she is no academic! At one point, someone asked my how my relationship with God was and I was appalled to hear myself answer truthfully, “We aren’t on speaking terms.”
‘Seminary isn’t time out.”
It took me some time to realize this one. In many ways for me, it is time out. I am not working with the homeless, I am not writing sermons, and I am not offering spiritual guidance to anyone. Still, the ordinary and extraordinary parts of life are still happening. I still have to pay the car insurance. My children still want (and have gotten) a dog. My daughter is having braces put on and we are applying for her Middle School. Birthdays and anniversaries are still flowing by. It is important to remember and honor all of these things in their season and not forget them because I feel that I am in a time out.
I have learned a lot this semester. While I should perhaps not admit this, most of what I learned wasn’t Koine Greek, Christian History, or the genealogies of the Old Testament. I have learned that the relationships really do matter most. The spaces between me and my daughter, between me and you, are the places where God truly reveals himself to us. Keeping those spaces open and healthy and clean keep God present with us, and that work is more important that how to decline Greek nouns or where the chalice sits on the corporal. In old relationships, the comfort of God is found. In new relationships, the wonder of God is waiting. So my friends, both old and new, I offer up this hard earned wisdom from the CDSP seminary – call someone you didn’t get to see over the holidays and say hello or someone you met at a party and felt joy with. See how God moves in your life.
Blessings,
Heather Lee - Epiphany 2009
“It’s a full time job.”
I have apparently forgotten what a full time job is like. Somehow, I thought that seminary was going to involve a respite. How much better can life get when your work is to read books you love? Plus, I thought that my 20 hour a week ministry, my 20 hour a week school volunteering, my 20 hour a week managerial job, and my full time family commitments would prepare me for any problems I might face in balancing life and school. This has not been the case. Consequently, many things that I had hoped to do, such as write these letters home more frequently, have been lost in the confusion.
“You must work to maintain your spiritual life.”
I must admit this sounded like complete foolishness to my pre-seminary self. I am in seminary. All of my work and the people around me are engaged in the spiritual life-right? Wrong. I am disappointed to report that when the Bible is required reading, it isn’t any more enlightening than the phone book. Seminary is not three years of monastic retreat, which was my fanciful imagination. Seminary is graduate school, with all the accompanying lectures on plagiarism and citing your source. It has been very hard to hear the Holy Sprit here; she is no academic! At one point, someone asked my how my relationship with God was and I was appalled to hear myself answer truthfully, “We aren’t on speaking terms.”
‘Seminary isn’t time out.”
It took me some time to realize this one. In many ways for me, it is time out. I am not working with the homeless, I am not writing sermons, and I am not offering spiritual guidance to anyone. Still, the ordinary and extraordinary parts of life are still happening. I still have to pay the car insurance. My children still want (and have gotten) a dog. My daughter is having braces put on and we are applying for her Middle School. Birthdays and anniversaries are still flowing by. It is important to remember and honor all of these things in their season and not forget them because I feel that I am in a time out.
I have learned a lot this semester. While I should perhaps not admit this, most of what I learned wasn’t Koine Greek, Christian History, or the genealogies of the Old Testament. I have learned that the relationships really do matter most. The spaces between me and my daughter, between me and you, are the places where God truly reveals himself to us. Keeping those spaces open and healthy and clean keep God present with us, and that work is more important that how to decline Greek nouns or where the chalice sits on the corporal. In old relationships, the comfort of God is found. In new relationships, the wonder of God is waiting. So my friends, both old and new, I offer up this hard earned wisdom from the CDSP seminary – call someone you didn’t get to see over the holidays and say hello or someone you met at a party and felt joy with. See how God moves in your life.
Blessings,
Heather Lee - Epiphany 2009
Steadfast Love is yours O Lord
don't preach alot these days, but this was from last sunday. the most amazing blessed thing happened. father john had to explain to all the new faces why i was preaching-they didn't know me. h
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.” For some of us, this election is payment for our deeds. For some of us who have worked towards civil rights, for a few years, for a few decades, since our birth, we feel as though God has blessed that work. Not because Democrins or Republicats have come into power, but because that which could never happen, a black man named Hussein, got elected and sworn into the White House.
Now I’ve been in the Bay Area, so I am sure that they are a little more crazy there than the rest of the country, but what I have seen there I have also seen on the television. A lot of people are acting like everything is going to be back to normal in no time flat. But that is too much hope and not enough reality talking. The truth is, no stimulus bailout tax-cut tax-hike cut across party lines is going to save us from the next few years. We will yet be repaid for our deeds. We will be repaid for our unchecked desire to make money and our collective illusion that Jay Leno is living a middle class lifestyle and I can too.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.”
Administrations come and go.
And yet, the Lord is still with us.
Christ is still with us.
The work is still with us. There is a lot of work to do.
We read a passage from Jonah today. And while it wasn’t my favorite part of Jonah’s tale, it is nevertheless, and entirely appropriate passage for us today. God sends Jonah across the face of the city crying “Repent! Turn back! Look what you are doing! This city is going to be undone!” Jonah may well be walking across our city, our country, even now. We see Jonah in situations where homes have been lost, jobs have been lost, savings have been lost. We hear Jonah in our own fear and uncertainty about our own security. None of us are exempt from either the fear or the blame. We have all benefited in the economic ponzi scheme of the last few decades. We have taken advantage of the unstable mortgages, either to buy our own homes or to build our retirement accounts from the bundling schemes. We have put our personal money into them, we have put our company’s money into them, we have put our government’s money into them and we have put our church’s money into them. We are in Ninevah, right now. Jonah is walking through the city.
So what can we do about it? Our story says that Ninevah repented and God relented. Now, the Scripture implies that the entire town of Ninevah repented. But I doubt it. God is a complete softie where we are concerned. Look at Noah. Look at Sodom. God turns his wrath for even the one. Does that mean that we here at St. David’s can pull out some sackcloth and ashes and this little band of the faithful can turn around the entire world economy? No. When we face the consequences of our actions, we get what God needs for us, not what we want for ourselves.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.”
We here at St. David’s have access to that steadfast love. We have faith in it. It gives us peace. We are no different than anyone else in the country right now. We worry about our jobs, our homes, our savings and retirement income. We worry about our children and their future. But in the midst of that fear, we also have release.
There are many who do not have that release. As we live out the next few years, people we know are going to see that release and they are going to ask why we are not afraid. We need to be ready to tell them. We need to be ready to help them.
Because when the hope is gone, when the change is imperfect, people will be in need, both in their physical lives and their spiritual lives. We have much work to do to be ready for them.
The present form of this world is passing away, Paul tells us. We don’t have the secret answers to what the new form will be, but we know that Christ is with us no matter what. When our deed is faith, and some days that is the hardest thing to do, we are repayed with Christ.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.”
So what does Christ have to offer us in today’s Gospel?
“As Jesus passed along the sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew casting nets in the sea-for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, Come follow me, I will make you fishers of men. And they went. A little ways off they say James and John, mending nets, for they too were fishermen. And Jesus called to them, Come follow me, and they did.”
We are all fishermen, from the highest to the lowest, we are all trying to feel safe in a large complicated world and we are all trying to keep our families safe. That fear made us greedy for security the sea does not offer. We are all in the same boat. Christian and non-Christian. Securities brokers and farm laborers. We are all in the same boat. We are all floating in the same sea.
What does Christ call us to do? Get out of the boat.
Christ invites us to stop trying to build our foundations on the sea, to stop trying to create safety in the ebb and flow of the tide, the chaos of life. When our safely is in God, even though financial markets will rise and fall, even though our lives will be easier some days, harder others, our emotions do not have to answer all of life’s difficult questions. We do not have to be the prime mover, the God, of our own lives, he can do the worrying and we can rest in the surety that whatever it is, it shall pass, however good it is, it is a gift. We can get out of the boat and stand on the land.
When Jesus called out, he did not say, The kingdom of God draws near-stand close to me. He said repent and believe in the Good News. He said, Come, I will make you fishers of men. What he did, was teach some people how to get onshore and immediately ask of them to turn around – do not head upland to safety- turn around and help someone else off the boat. We have the same responsibility to help people off the boat of uncertainty and fear as James and Simon. Sometimes that boat feels like a floaty ring in swimming pool and sometimes it feels like the Titanic, but the responsibility is the same.
We too have lost jobs and houses and savings. But we have our hope in Christ, not in the sea, not in ourselves. We were given to gift of safety, of peace. We have been led off the boat and we can, we must, give that gift to others. Amen.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.” For some of us, this election is payment for our deeds. For some of us who have worked towards civil rights, for a few years, for a few decades, since our birth, we feel as though God has blessed that work. Not because Democrins or Republicats have come into power, but because that which could never happen, a black man named Hussein, got elected and sworn into the White House.
Now I’ve been in the Bay Area, so I am sure that they are a little more crazy there than the rest of the country, but what I have seen there I have also seen on the television. A lot of people are acting like everything is going to be back to normal in no time flat. But that is too much hope and not enough reality talking. The truth is, no stimulus bailout tax-cut tax-hike cut across party lines is going to save us from the next few years. We will yet be repaid for our deeds. We will be repaid for our unchecked desire to make money and our collective illusion that Jay Leno is living a middle class lifestyle and I can too.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.”
Administrations come and go.
And yet, the Lord is still with us.
Christ is still with us.
The work is still with us. There is a lot of work to do.
We read a passage from Jonah today. And while it wasn’t my favorite part of Jonah’s tale, it is nevertheless, and entirely appropriate passage for us today. God sends Jonah across the face of the city crying “Repent! Turn back! Look what you are doing! This city is going to be undone!” Jonah may well be walking across our city, our country, even now. We see Jonah in situations where homes have been lost, jobs have been lost, savings have been lost. We hear Jonah in our own fear and uncertainty about our own security. None of us are exempt from either the fear or the blame. We have all benefited in the economic ponzi scheme of the last few decades. We have taken advantage of the unstable mortgages, either to buy our own homes or to build our retirement accounts from the bundling schemes. We have put our personal money into them, we have put our company’s money into them, we have put our government’s money into them and we have put our church’s money into them. We are in Ninevah, right now. Jonah is walking through the city.
So what can we do about it? Our story says that Ninevah repented and God relented. Now, the Scripture implies that the entire town of Ninevah repented. But I doubt it. God is a complete softie where we are concerned. Look at Noah. Look at Sodom. God turns his wrath for even the one. Does that mean that we here at St. David’s can pull out some sackcloth and ashes and this little band of the faithful can turn around the entire world economy? No. When we face the consequences of our actions, we get what God needs for us, not what we want for ourselves.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.”
We here at St. David’s have access to that steadfast love. We have faith in it. It gives us peace. We are no different than anyone else in the country right now. We worry about our jobs, our homes, our savings and retirement income. We worry about our children and their future. But in the midst of that fear, we also have release.
There are many who do not have that release. As we live out the next few years, people we know are going to see that release and they are going to ask why we are not afraid. We need to be ready to tell them. We need to be ready to help them.
Because when the hope is gone, when the change is imperfect, people will be in need, both in their physical lives and their spiritual lives. We have much work to do to be ready for them.
The present form of this world is passing away, Paul tells us. We don’t have the secret answers to what the new form will be, but we know that Christ is with us no matter what. When our deed is faith, and some days that is the hardest thing to do, we are repayed with Christ.
“Steadfast love is yours O Lord, for you repay everyone according to his deeds.”
So what does Christ have to offer us in today’s Gospel?
“As Jesus passed along the sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew casting nets in the sea-for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, Come follow me, I will make you fishers of men. And they went. A little ways off they say James and John, mending nets, for they too were fishermen. And Jesus called to them, Come follow me, and they did.”
We are all fishermen, from the highest to the lowest, we are all trying to feel safe in a large complicated world and we are all trying to keep our families safe. That fear made us greedy for security the sea does not offer. We are all in the same boat. Christian and non-Christian. Securities brokers and farm laborers. We are all in the same boat. We are all floating in the same sea.
What does Christ call us to do? Get out of the boat.
Christ invites us to stop trying to build our foundations on the sea, to stop trying to create safety in the ebb and flow of the tide, the chaos of life. When our safely is in God, even though financial markets will rise and fall, even though our lives will be easier some days, harder others, our emotions do not have to answer all of life’s difficult questions. We do not have to be the prime mover, the God, of our own lives, he can do the worrying and we can rest in the surety that whatever it is, it shall pass, however good it is, it is a gift. We can get out of the boat and stand on the land.
When Jesus called out, he did not say, The kingdom of God draws near-stand close to me. He said repent and believe in the Good News. He said, Come, I will make you fishers of men. What he did, was teach some people how to get onshore and immediately ask of them to turn around – do not head upland to safety- turn around and help someone else off the boat. We have the same responsibility to help people off the boat of uncertainty and fear as James and Simon. Sometimes that boat feels like a floaty ring in swimming pool and sometimes it feels like the Titanic, but the responsibility is the same.
We too have lost jobs and houses and savings. But we have our hope in Christ, not in the sea, not in ourselves. We were given to gift of safety, of peace. We have been led off the boat and we can, we must, give that gift to others. Amen.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
January 8, 2009
Reflections for Discernment Committee
Seminary:
Seminary has been an interesting
resolution of expectations and reality. I had this monastic vision of
formation and discernment with lots of really practical, hands on
sorts of work. I got regular old graduate school. After I got my
philosophy degree, I chose not to continue with graduate work in that
field because I didn’t feel that academic papers on abstract topics
were going to be useful in “real life.” While I am pleased to
find that I still know how to do academic research, it is still a
soul sucking endeavor with little to recommend.
There has been an expectation of
visiting many different churches for the first year. I have found
this extremely difficult. I very much have a vision of church that
involves doing the work in front of you in your local parish, as
neighborhood, and then doing other work, in my case at the diocesan
level, but it could be other things, that expand that circle of
mission and ministry. I am not much for church shopping-I don’t
have a list. Even in the process that led us to the Episcopal Church,
there wasn’t an overt list; such as I want a good children’s
program, Eucharistic liturgy, or fulfilling mission. I wanted
something that was near where I live. I wanted something that felt
authentic, such an overused word, and something that is very
important to me- I wanted to feel like I could actually go to the
church with my problems. (When I am being silly, a perfect church is
reflected in the Cheers theme song. Look up the whole lyrics, they
are actually hilarious.)
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Lay License Renewal Letter
Haven't seen the license come back yet. Hoping it is at the parish.
I am applying for a renewal of my lay licensing. I am still performing these duties and privileges for my parish even though I am in seminary at this time. Each of these licenses – as a Eucharistic Minister, Lay Preacher and Lay Reader, are integral to my ministry in the St. David of Wales community.
As a Eucharistic Minister, I pass the chalice during communion and accompany the rector on visitations. I am deeply honored to be called by our Lord to nurture the communal bonds of affection in our parish in this way. The benefits to my own spiritual growth are multitude.
I am particularly moved in my calling as a Lay Preacher. This gift is truly of God’s own making and the discerning of community that He shares through me is born out of the actions of community in mission and ministry.
I have made use of my license in Lay Reading to offer prayer services and liturgical formation in our congregations many times in the past. Among my proudest uses of this ministry have been to offer Morning Prayer in conjunction with supply priests while our own rector offered his expertise in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I have also used my training in this ministry to assist in creating liturgies for use in the Sudanese Christian Fellowship that meets in our parish. I hope to stand ready to offer these services when I am able during my seminary formation as well.
The opportunity to explore my call to priesthood through these ministries is a gift that was granted and supported by my parish. The ability to continue to do so, even though I am in school, is a gift to them in return.
Humbly,
Heather Lee
St. David of Wales Episcopal Church
Epiphany 2009
I am applying for a renewal of my lay licensing. I am still performing these duties and privileges for my parish even though I am in seminary at this time. Each of these licenses – as a Eucharistic Minister, Lay Preacher and Lay Reader, are integral to my ministry in the St. David of Wales community.
As a Eucharistic Minister, I pass the chalice during communion and accompany the rector on visitations. I am deeply honored to be called by our Lord to nurture the communal bonds of affection in our parish in this way. The benefits to my own spiritual growth are multitude.
I am particularly moved in my calling as a Lay Preacher. This gift is truly of God’s own making and the discerning of community that He shares through me is born out of the actions of community in mission and ministry.
I have made use of my license in Lay Reading to offer prayer services and liturgical formation in our congregations many times in the past. Among my proudest uses of this ministry have been to offer Morning Prayer in conjunction with supply priests while our own rector offered his expertise in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. I have also used my training in this ministry to assist in creating liturgies for use in the Sudanese Christian Fellowship that meets in our parish. I hope to stand ready to offer these services when I am able during my seminary formation as well.
The opportunity to explore my call to priesthood through these ministries is a gift that was granted and supported by my parish. The ability to continue to do so, even though I am in school, is a gift to them in return.
Humbly,
Heather Lee
St. David of Wales Episcopal Church
Epiphany 2009
January 6, 2009
(no reply to this letter)
January 6, 2009
Assisting Bishop ---
11800 SW Military Lane
Portland, OR 97219
Dear Bishop ---,
I am applying for a renewal of my lay
licensing. I am still performing these duties and privileges for my
parish even though I am in seminary at this time. Each of these
licenses – as a Eucharistic Minister, Lay Preacher and Lay Reader,
are integral to my ministry in the St. David of Wales community.
As a Eucharistic Minister, I pass the
chalice during communion and accompany the rector on visitations. I
am deeply honored to be called by our Lord to nurture the communal
bonds of affection in our parish in this way. The benefits to my own
spiritual growth are multitude.
I am particularly moved in my calling
as a Lay Preacher. This gift is truly of God’s own making and the
discerning of community that He shares through me is born out of the
actions of community in mission and ministry.
I have made use of my license in Lay
Reading to offer prayer services and liturgical formation in our
congregations many times in the past. Among my proudest uses of this
ministry have been to offer Morning Prayer in conjunction with supply
priests while our own rector offered his expertise in the aftermath
of Hurricane Katrina. I have also used my training in this ministry
to assist in creating liturgies for use in the Sudanese Christian
Fellowship that meets in our parish. I hope to stand ready to offer
these services when I am able during my seminary formation as well.
The opportunity to explore my call to
priesthood through these ministries is a gift that was granted and
supported by my parish. The ability to continue to do so, even though
I am in school, is a gift to them in return.
Humbly,
Heather Lee
St. David of Wales Episcopal Church
Epiphany 2009
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