This is the first prayers of the people I ever wrote. It was for the bilingual service in chapel. I was in the midst of getting it translated into Spanish when I found out that English was ok. There is something both powerful and difficult about writing prayers. I think that this was a pretty good first attempt, but I think that it could do with a class, rather than a handout for instruction. It would be an excellent lay ministry for people gifted in liturgical language.
As we follow Teresa de Avila’s example of mystical prayer. Let us respond to her wisdom saying, “God alone is enough.” or “Solo Dios Basta.”
Nada te turbe. I ask your prayers for the holy catholic church, for all who seek unity and all who cannot find it.
Silence.
Let nothing disturb you; “Solo Dios Basta.”
Nada te espante. I ask your prayers for this nation, for the leaders to come and those who will go.
Silence.
Let nothing frighten you; “Solo Dios Basta.”
Todo se pasa. I ask your prayers for the world, for the good green earth and the people who inhabit it.
Silence.
All things are passing away; “Solo Dios Basta.”
Dios no se muda. I ask your prayers for this community, for the safety of its members and compassion for its enemies.
Silence.
God never changes; “Solo Dios Basta.”
La pacientia todo lo alcanza. I ask prayers for the suffering, for all who are in physical pain and all who are in spiritual pain. Pray especially for….
Silence.
Patience obtains all things. “Solo Dios Basta.”
Quien a Dios tiene nada la falta. I ask your prayers for the departed, for saints known and unknown. Pray especially for St. Teresa de Avila, Doctor of the Church, and for …
Silence.
Whoever has God lacks nothing. “Solo Dios Basta.”
Collect
Almighty God, who never changes: Grant peace in our hearts and patience in our lives that, through your Holy Spirit, we may lack for nothing like your saint, Teresa de Avila. This we ask through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Friday, October 3, 2008
The Bush
I keep waiting for the sermon I needed to hear the Sunday after the Stock Market crashed. I have been to a Eucharist 4 times since then, and I still haven't heard what I needed to hear. So I got annoyed and decided to write one for myself. I went looking for the lectionary readings and this was the alternate reading for that Sunday, September 21, 208. We got some pap about manna, which wasn't really helpful for the sense of agitated fear combined with the sense that this is probably what should be happening, given the crazed financial schemes we have been profiting from for the last decade or so. I think this was so appropriate that the sermon may have been sucessful simply as a re-read of this.
I offer it up, if anyone is still catching the dribbles that fall from this blog, as The Word of The Lord.
I offer it up, if anyone is still catching the dribbles that fall from this blog, as The Word of The Lord.
Jonah 3:10-4:11
When God saw what the people of Nineveh did, how they turned from their evil ways, God changed his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them; and he did not do it.
But this was very displeasing to Jonah, and he became angry. He prayed to the LORD and said, "O LORD! Is not this what I said while I was still in my own country? That is why I fled to Tarshish at the beginning; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing. And now, O LORD, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live." And the LORD said, "Is it right for you to be angry?" Then Jonah went out of the city and sat down east of the city, and made a booth for himself there. He sat under it in the shade, waiting to see what would become of the city.
The LORD God appointed a bush, and made it come up over Jonah, to give shade over his head, to save him from his discomfort; so Jonah was very happy about the bush. But when dawn came up the next day, God appointed a worm that attacked the bush, so that it withered. When the sun rose, God prepared a sultry east wind, and the sun beat down on the head of Jonah so that he was faint and asked that he might die. He said, "It is better for me to die than to live."
But God said to Jonah, "Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?" And he said, "Yes, angry enough to die." Then the LORD said, "You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?"
Saturday, September 20, 2008
September 20, 2008
Greetings,
I am pleased to report to you that schooling at this time continues to be where the Holy Spirit needs me, and my family, to be. We have settled into this life with remarkably little difficulty. (That said, I am indeed procrastinating a paper this very moment.)
As for Shannon, his work continues, and he has been interviewing with some other companies. He is in no danger of losing his job, but the nature of his career is such that he is always aware of the possibility of new opportunities.
The children have blossomed here. Due to my own class schedule, this secretly over-protective mother had to teach them to walk home from school by themselves three days a week. After some heart stopping anxiety, and the purchasing of watches, I am so pleased with the initiative and joy they take in this responsibility. It does not hurt matters that they have charmed several shopkeepers along the way and that they are able to walk through the north-west corner of the UC Berkeley campus. In case you have never had the pleasure of wandering through the campus, that particular corner is home to a nicely maintained stream, replete with small minnows, creeping creatures and crawfish. There is a crawfish living in a mixing bowl on my kitchen counter right now. I have asked that he be released back into his home tomorrow. Francis has begun clarinet lessons at school. She has an innate musical talent that neither her father nor I possess. I must remind myself to honor that, and pay for more lessons. My son, my stubborn young man, has discovered the adventurer in himself. He is continually offering up new things to try and explore. It has been a living example of the faith of a mustard seed. For I had little faith in his ability and so he had none for himself. A sprinkling of water has yielded fruit neither of us knew was there.
My own assimilation is somewhat more complex, but in that strange way that abundant blessings can bring about a flush of guilt. I have so many people holding me up in prayer and seeing the potential of my ministry that I have commented to one lovely woman that I wonder that any work is getting done. I have met many people that hold a conviction of their ministry in their hearts, but I have heard no other story like my own; that it feels like half a diocese is holding that conviction as well. Part of our orientation group work was to consider and address all that we have left behind to be here. I don't feel that I have left anything behind. I feel like the Verizon guy, with a whole network walking around right behind me, making sure that God can "hear me now." I wonder what that must feel like, to feel isolated and alone. And I have certainly had those feelings, but even though I am not here with the bishops blessing,I know that in their proper time, like next spring, those details will resolve. I know many other people who are here with that blessing, even someone from our own diocese, who does not seem to have her own Verizon network. Still, I feel no pride in this, for I know this is the way for me because my faith is too weak to do it any other way.
I have other horns of plenty as well. I am bringing a wealth, for a seminarian, of liturgical practice. I have been in 4 diocese and 5 parishes, plus several other parishes I visited once either while searching, or invited by friends or for some liturgical celebration. I have been blessed with a small parish and a generous clergy and laity who have always been open to my desire and need to explore the liturgy. I have truly been given a gift of the prayer book and a directive, "if it doesn't say no, ok." combined with the theological underpinnings of the various ways I have tried or wanted to try church. And the Lay Preaching School. Jim Belt may be bathing in the tears I cried, but I know liturgical posture (the technical term we learned today) and I know why it matters and I have had it ground into my bodily memory. I would never have been able to get through that learning in this environment. It is not the safely of a mother's womb, although some have tried to explain seminary as that safe place.
And if that wasn't enough, I have a place in the larger life of the diocese. That I have been invited or allowed to attend convention and various seminars and conferences around the diocese is a true blessing. I have met and connected with people from farther afield than my own parish and I have an honest understanding of the uniqueness of St. David's, and of any individual parish in the context of a larger diocesan church. The work that has become my passion with the Commission to End Racism in our diocese has broadened the scope and breadth of my understanding of the work of the church. We do not sustain without liturgy, but liturgy is not the only work of the church either. The interfaith dialogues that I have had, and the ecumenical friendships that I have made engaging in Daybreak Ministries and the Southeast Portland Interfaith Bible Day Camp have only contributed to the broader Christianity that I practice and have served to underscore the uniqueness of the Anglican Tradition.
Without all of this, I would have no sense of my call in the context of Christ's church and how that is different than simply feeling called by God for something. Without all of these experiences I don't know how I would have been able to discern that I am called to rally the troops more than to lead the battle, so to speak. Without all of these experiences, I wouldn't be so clear that what God is building in me is a compassionate leader to soothe and build up and challenge the christians in their community, to give them the push out the door to do God's work. I don't have the strength of will or character to be a deacon, when it comes right down to it. As much as I love to immerse myself in the rubber meets the road ministry, it eats me right up. And that is a sad thing to admit, because I want to be the kind of person that does the work. I think a priest is more like the scared kid who is holding the flag, however. And as I sheepishly pointed out the other day, my talent is standing in the front of the crowd and looking like I know what I am doing.
It is getting late into the evening, and I have scheduled myself a workshop for most of tomorrow on something that I think will be of benefit to our diocese, a discussion of latino spirituality and worship by The Rev. Anthony Guillen, staff officer for Latino Ministries in the Episcopal Church. And there is still that paper to write.
Ellen and I spoke, last month, about in informal meeting for us at her house on Saturday evening, the 27th. I will be in town for the next Seeing the Face of God in Each Other training. If some arranging went on about that possibility, I would love to see everyone, even for just a brief visit.
Blessings Abundant,
heather lee
I am pleased to report to you that schooling at this time continues to be where the Holy Spirit needs me, and my family, to be. We have settled into this life with remarkably little difficulty. (That said, I am indeed procrastinating a paper this very moment.)
As for Shannon, his work continues, and he has been interviewing with some other companies. He is in no danger of losing his job, but the nature of his career is such that he is always aware of the possibility of new opportunities.
The children have blossomed here. Due to my own class schedule, this secretly over-protective mother had to teach them to walk home from school by themselves three days a week. After some heart stopping anxiety, and the purchasing of watches, I am so pleased with the initiative and joy they take in this responsibility. It does not hurt matters that they have charmed several shopkeepers along the way and that they are able to walk through the north-west corner of the UC Berkeley campus. In case you have never had the pleasure of wandering through the campus, that particular corner is home to a nicely maintained stream, replete with small minnows, creeping creatures and crawfish. There is a crawfish living in a mixing bowl on my kitchen counter right now. I have asked that he be released back into his home tomorrow. Francis has begun clarinet lessons at school. She has an innate musical talent that neither her father nor I possess. I must remind myself to honor that, and pay for more lessons. My son, my stubborn young man, has discovered the adventurer in himself. He is continually offering up new things to try and explore. It has been a living example of the faith of a mustard seed. For I had little faith in his ability and so he had none for himself. A sprinkling of water has yielded fruit neither of us knew was there.
My own assimilation is somewhat more complex, but in that strange way that abundant blessings can bring about a flush of guilt. I have so many people holding me up in prayer and seeing the potential of my ministry that I have commented to one lovely woman that I wonder that any work is getting done. I have met many people that hold a conviction of their ministry in their hearts, but I have heard no other story like my own; that it feels like half a diocese is holding that conviction as well. Part of our orientation group work was to consider and address all that we have left behind to be here. I don't feel that I have left anything behind. I feel like the Verizon guy, with a whole network walking around right behind me, making sure that God can "hear me now." I wonder what that must feel like, to feel isolated and alone. And I have certainly had those feelings, but even though I am not here with the bishops blessing,I know that in their proper time, like next spring, those details will resolve. I know many other people who are here with that blessing, even someone from our own diocese, who does not seem to have her own Verizon network. Still, I feel no pride in this, for I know this is the way for me because my faith is too weak to do it any other way.
I have other horns of plenty as well. I am bringing a wealth, for a seminarian, of liturgical practice. I have been in 4 diocese and 5 parishes, plus several other parishes I visited once either while searching, or invited by friends or for some liturgical celebration. I have been blessed with a small parish and a generous clergy and laity who have always been open to my desire and need to explore the liturgy. I have truly been given a gift of the prayer book and a directive, "if it doesn't say no, ok." combined with the theological underpinnings of the various ways I have tried or wanted to try church. And the Lay Preaching School. Jim Belt may be bathing in the tears I cried, but I know liturgical posture (the technical term we learned today) and I know why it matters and I have had it ground into my bodily memory. I would never have been able to get through that learning in this environment. It is not the safely of a mother's womb, although some have tried to explain seminary as that safe place.
And if that wasn't enough, I have a place in the larger life of the diocese. That I have been invited or allowed to attend convention and various seminars and conferences around the diocese is a true blessing. I have met and connected with people from farther afield than my own parish and I have an honest understanding of the uniqueness of St. David's, and of any individual parish in the context of a larger diocesan church. The work that has become my passion with the Commission to End Racism in our diocese has broadened the scope and breadth of my understanding of the work of the church. We do not sustain without liturgy, but liturgy is not the only work of the church either. The interfaith dialogues that I have had, and the ecumenical friendships that I have made engaging in Daybreak Ministries and the Southeast Portland Interfaith Bible Day Camp have only contributed to the broader Christianity that I practice and have served to underscore the uniqueness of the Anglican Tradition.
Without all of this, I would have no sense of my call in the context of Christ's church and how that is different than simply feeling called by God for something. Without all of these experiences I don't know how I would have been able to discern that I am called to rally the troops more than to lead the battle, so to speak. Without all of these experiences, I wouldn't be so clear that what God is building in me is a compassionate leader to soothe and build up and challenge the christians in their community, to give them the push out the door to do God's work. I don't have the strength of will or character to be a deacon, when it comes right down to it. As much as I love to immerse myself in the rubber meets the road ministry, it eats me right up. And that is a sad thing to admit, because I want to be the kind of person that does the work. I think a priest is more like the scared kid who is holding the flag, however. And as I sheepishly pointed out the other day, my talent is standing in the front of the crowd and looking like I know what I am doing.
It is getting late into the evening, and I have scheduled myself a workshop for most of tomorrow on something that I think will be of benefit to our diocese, a discussion of latino spirituality and worship by The Rev. Anthony Guillen, staff officer for Latino Ministries in the Episcopal Church. And there is still that paper to write.
Ellen and I spoke, last month, about in informal meeting for us at her house on Saturday evening, the 27th. I will be in town for the next Seeing the Face of God in Each Other training. If some arranging went on about that possibility, I would love to see everyone, even for just a brief visit.
Blessings Abundant,
heather lee
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Well
Surely the worst sermon ever written, but some people got something out of it. It passed the criteria of people referring to it later in the week. But still, the worst sermon ever.
For the record, I am not preaching on any of the lessons specifically today. Having spent several hours of my life researching what the significance of adoption was to Roman culture, I can conclusively state that while the topic is really fascinating stuff, adoption isn’t. And the same goes for the gospel reading for that matter.
Instead, I am just going to let them sit on their own today and instead, speak plainly what Paul and the Gospel writer were both trying to tell us. The long and the short of which is that Christian community is about unconditional love and acceptance. And that that sort of unconditional love and acceptance can’t be found anywhere but in the Christian community because to achieve that, to even approach unconditional, is going to take a miraculous amount of forgiveness and acceptance.
Some of us are here today because we know this already. Some of us are here today because we are considering a partnership in the future. Some of us are here today because they are my friends and didn’t know how to say no way no how, lady. And so today’s sermon is mostly for them, because they maybe don’t know what I get out of church or why it matters enough that I am heading off to seminary.
So, because I didn’t like any of the metaphors available to me today, I am going to present my own. This metaphor is called, The Well, and it is actually Shannon Lee’s.
Once upon a time, there was a village. This village was around before electricity and indoor plumbing so everyone from the richest merchant to the lowliest serf had to get water from the communal well. Some of the people were old and didn’t have to work anymore, so they spent most of the day hanging out at the well. Some were working really hard or something about their lives was shameful to them, so they snuck out to the well at odd times and didn’t stay long. Most people who went to the well, however, went at the same time everyday so that they could see their friends and share all of the good and bad things in their lives and maybe do a little gossiping about other people, too.
One day, a rich overlord came to the village to install indoor plumbing. It would be great, he said, because people wouldn’t have to carry water every day. They could get more work done and they would only have to pay for their share of the water, for their own plumbing, not everyone else.
Most of the people thought this was great. Now, some of the old-timers kept going to the well because it was a habit, and sometimes people who couldn’t afford to fix their plumbing went to the well. But most people stopped going to the well. And they were a little bit sad and lonely. After while, people forgot that the water coming from their tap was the same water they had drawn from the well and they became mistrustful. Some of them installed filters and others began drinking imported mineral mountain spring water.
People forget all about the well. And they forgot that they used to share with each other, not just the water but the good and the bad things in their lives too. People not only became mistrustful of the water, they became mistrustful of each other. And the village was a hard place to live.
The best and the thing about parables is that everyone can hear what they need to learn. The nice thing about preaching on a parable, especially one you helped make up, is that you get to explain yourself. Jesus actually did this on occasion, but usually his explanation was as confusing as the parable itself.
In this parable, the village is the Christian community. And the well is the church. Christ is the water and people are people. An interesting thing has happened in the world, and I think it took a long time to fully flower, but the personal Jesus, the individually bottled spring water, actually is the antithesis of what Jesus did for us. And indoor plumbing is actually the antithesis of how we are meant to live.
You see, it isn’t just in the bible that people are made to live in community with each other, even sociologist that aren’t interested in the bible at all, tell us that people are made for community. If we live by ourselves too long, we go a little bonkers. And so people are always forming communities, we form nations and political parties. We form special interest groups and fan clubs. We form families. We are always trying to create a place to belong and we spend a lot of time trying out different communities, to see if they suit our needs or if they match our ideals. We do this with churches too. But then, a lot of churches are catering to indoor plumbing ideals just like the rest of the communities we form without Christ in the center.
This is because we are trying to bottle church when church is actually a well. You can’t bottle a well, it has moving parts and a geography. It is simply not amenable to glass bottles and designer labels. If we managed to bottle up a well, well, it wouldn’t be a well anymore. It would be bottles full of dirt and wood splinters and maybe some bits of an electric pump. You know, I don’t really have an answer for churches. Some get it, some don’t. I suppose all I can say is churches are made of people, and people are people.
But if we do find a church that is still a well, and for what it is worth, St. David’s is a well, right down to it’s immovable geography, then we find a place were water flows, where Christ exists just as he is meant to. And at the well, people are people. But with one extra special addition. The water. The forgiveness. In fact, the forgiveness and the acceptance that are so unconditional that people can be people and they can be community without having to pretend to be a certain nationality, or a certain political party or a certain special interest or a certain sort of fan.
In fact, people can be people and they can share all their good news and their bad news and they can know that even if something goes wrong, even if they hurt someone’s feelings or accidentally serve tainted fish at a banquet, no matter how horrible or awful it might be, there is always that forgiveness, that Christ, that water, to wash away the awfulness and eventually bring things to right.
I’ve shared my share of bad with this church and with the people here who are part of my other communities. Today. Today I want to share some of my good. There is only one person here today who was at my first marriage ceremony. Luckily, it’s the groom. But the biggest difference between the marriage I entered 13 years ago and the one I am living in today is the unconditional forgiveness that exists today that definitely wasn’t there then. Then, I made family out of someone I thought would fit into my community. Now, I make community, unconditional community out of family. I am both please and grateful that all of you have come to be part of that community and to bear witness to our family.
For the record, I am not preaching on any of the lessons specifically today. Having spent several hours of my life researching what the significance of adoption was to Roman culture, I can conclusively state that while the topic is really fascinating stuff, adoption isn’t. And the same goes for the gospel reading for that matter.
Instead, I am just going to let them sit on their own today and instead, speak plainly what Paul and the Gospel writer were both trying to tell us. The long and the short of which is that Christian community is about unconditional love and acceptance. And that that sort of unconditional love and acceptance can’t be found anywhere but in the Christian community because to achieve that, to even approach unconditional, is going to take a miraculous amount of forgiveness and acceptance.
Some of us are here today because we know this already. Some of us are here today because we are considering a partnership in the future. Some of us are here today because they are my friends and didn’t know how to say no way no how, lady. And so today’s sermon is mostly for them, because they maybe don’t know what I get out of church or why it matters enough that I am heading off to seminary.
So, because I didn’t like any of the metaphors available to me today, I am going to present my own. This metaphor is called, The Well, and it is actually Shannon Lee’s.
Once upon a time, there was a village. This village was around before electricity and indoor plumbing so everyone from the richest merchant to the lowliest serf had to get water from the communal well. Some of the people were old and didn’t have to work anymore, so they spent most of the day hanging out at the well. Some were working really hard or something about their lives was shameful to them, so they snuck out to the well at odd times and didn’t stay long. Most people who went to the well, however, went at the same time everyday so that they could see their friends and share all of the good and bad things in their lives and maybe do a little gossiping about other people, too.
One day, a rich overlord came to the village to install indoor plumbing. It would be great, he said, because people wouldn’t have to carry water every day. They could get more work done and they would only have to pay for their share of the water, for their own plumbing, not everyone else.
Most of the people thought this was great. Now, some of the old-timers kept going to the well because it was a habit, and sometimes people who couldn’t afford to fix their plumbing went to the well. But most people stopped going to the well. And they were a little bit sad and lonely. After while, people forgot that the water coming from their tap was the same water they had drawn from the well and they became mistrustful. Some of them installed filters and others began drinking imported mineral mountain spring water.
People forget all about the well. And they forgot that they used to share with each other, not just the water but the good and the bad things in their lives too. People not only became mistrustful of the water, they became mistrustful of each other. And the village was a hard place to live.
The best and the thing about parables is that everyone can hear what they need to learn. The nice thing about preaching on a parable, especially one you helped make up, is that you get to explain yourself. Jesus actually did this on occasion, but usually his explanation was as confusing as the parable itself.
In this parable, the village is the Christian community. And the well is the church. Christ is the water and people are people. An interesting thing has happened in the world, and I think it took a long time to fully flower, but the personal Jesus, the individually bottled spring water, actually is the antithesis of what Jesus did for us. And indoor plumbing is actually the antithesis of how we are meant to live.
You see, it isn’t just in the bible that people are made to live in community with each other, even sociologist that aren’t interested in the bible at all, tell us that people are made for community. If we live by ourselves too long, we go a little bonkers. And so people are always forming communities, we form nations and political parties. We form special interest groups and fan clubs. We form families. We are always trying to create a place to belong and we spend a lot of time trying out different communities, to see if they suit our needs or if they match our ideals. We do this with churches too. But then, a lot of churches are catering to indoor plumbing ideals just like the rest of the communities we form without Christ in the center.
This is because we are trying to bottle church when church is actually a well. You can’t bottle a well, it has moving parts and a geography. It is simply not amenable to glass bottles and designer labels. If we managed to bottle up a well, well, it wouldn’t be a well anymore. It would be bottles full of dirt and wood splinters and maybe some bits of an electric pump. You know, I don’t really have an answer for churches. Some get it, some don’t. I suppose all I can say is churches are made of people, and people are people.
But if we do find a church that is still a well, and for what it is worth, St. David’s is a well, right down to it’s immovable geography, then we find a place were water flows, where Christ exists just as he is meant to. And at the well, people are people. But with one extra special addition. The water. The forgiveness. In fact, the forgiveness and the acceptance that are so unconditional that people can be people and they can be community without having to pretend to be a certain nationality, or a certain political party or a certain special interest or a certain sort of fan.
In fact, people can be people and they can share all their good news and their bad news and they can know that even if something goes wrong, even if they hurt someone’s feelings or accidentally serve tainted fish at a banquet, no matter how horrible or awful it might be, there is always that forgiveness, that Christ, that water, to wash away the awfulness and eventually bring things to right.
I’ve shared my share of bad with this church and with the people here who are part of my other communities. Today. Today I want to share some of my good. There is only one person here today who was at my first marriage ceremony. Luckily, it’s the groom. But the biggest difference between the marriage I entered 13 years ago and the one I am living in today is the unconditional forgiveness that exists today that definitely wasn’t there then. Then, I made family out of someone I thought would fit into my community. Now, I make community, unconditional community out of family. I am both please and grateful that all of you have come to be part of that community and to bear witness to our family.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Stories
my husband once asked if i was a good writer or a good deliverer of sermons. well this one at least, i did not write, the holy spirit did so, and delivered it too. i wrote the words down about 2 hours before i spoke them, without any editing and i cried and knocked my knees together through the whole delivery. and so, in a personal note to him - i totally understand why he things old testament prophets were mentally ill, they were dealing with what we now call, out of body experiences.
So. I was sure that this was going to be as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. 6 lines of Gospel on welcoming and 3 days at a Province 8 Stewardship, Evangelism and Congregational Development Conference. Yeah. You know, I’ll share with you a curse my grandmother left me. She said, Heather, you will never appreciate anything that comes easy. God and my grandmother are sitting in heaven these days just shaking their heads over that. Because last night, I typed up this lovely sermon on what I learned at Conference. And I knew it wasn’t great or prophetic or startling, or frankly even very interesting. And this morning I woke up with what conference planners call an ah-ha moment, but what I call prophetic revelation. And so, this morning, I wrote this down and stand before you now, but in my heart and shaking knees, I am sitting right beside you.
Today’s Gospel. Today’s Good News is about welcoming, it’s about hospitality and it is really about an old adage I learned as a child. “You get what you wish for.”
What I want to talk about this morning is what it is we wish for. It isn’t simple like a penny in a fountain. It is not talking about kindness begetting kindness. What we wish for is the self-fulfilling prophecy of our stories. Our story is who we are. Our story is the limiting factor of what we consider possible-and if we don’t believe something is possible-how can we recognize it when it comes along?
For instance, this community has recognized that this puny vessel can contain enough holy for one-and some to spare for a community, too. And that is why it takes community to discern anything – because one person, alone, before God, gets sand blasted – but a community standing together, telling the same story, spreads the power of God amongst its members and allows us all to approach the holy places, the thin places as they are called, without being burned by the magnitude of God’s desires for us.
In order for this to work the community must be telling the same story. In order for others to join the community it must know and live its story in a way that others can understand, can access, can tell authentically themselves. Because the story we tell that others can understand that others can tell authentically that they can see themselves in. That is the story that unfolds for a community.
Here at St. David’s this community tells the story of a general purpose meeting facility. We tell this story well. We, as Christians, tell this story to a generation, a population, that does not know our Christian story and cannot hear what we don’t tell. We are telling Colonial Heights, and the Hosford-Abernethy Neighborhood Association, and the Portland Metro Area the story of space for rent.
Not only is it any wonder that only renters come to share our story, do any of us even remember when that became our story? I can tell you – space for hire has not always been our story. And I don’t harken back to any Golden Age, because I wasn’t born then. But I can tell you in 2004-that was not the story of St. David’s. Because I would not have come back the second Sunday. I would not have become an acolyte. I would not have met friends like Sam Gregory, and Jon Williams and the Horners. And I would not have made family like Pat Thayer and Chas Dean and the Browns. And I would not have joined the story if Fr John hadn’t been speaking of discipleship and hospitality.
I, Heather, do not stand outside the circle on this. I, too, tell the story of parks and recreation. I, too, think the brochure should be all business. I, too stand before the fiery bush and hear God in this Gospel saying – you are reaping what you have sown. You are living the story you have told. You are getting the welcome you have given.
Right now, at this time, we are at a junction. There begins yet another round of “what to do with St. David’s” If I remember correctly, the Standing Committee was supposed to have given our question some space on the agenda yesterday. Right now, we have the floor, to tell our story. And the question is-Do we tell the story of “Space for lease-cheap rates” or do we tell the Gospel? Do we tell the story of crucifixion and resurrection and reconciliation of all things?
When I first came to this parish, Molly told us all a story of Phoenix Rising. That was her story of St. David’s. Somewhere in my heart-I still hold that story, but with my mouth, with my feet, I have told the story of community center for so long, I wonder why I still get angry and surprised that people don’t show up on Sunday morning like they used to. Not in the golden era, but only since I have been here.
Today we have been given an invitation from God to wake up. To hear and feel the Holy Spirit. To speak and move as thought we ourselves would live and die and live again as Christ. Today, if we take it, we are given an invitation and Permission, to change the story we written, in assessment reports and newspaper articles. We are allowed to reclaim the Gospel as our primary story.
If it is God’s will, nothing on earth will stop it. Something I learned last week is that God speaks in prophetic and often crazy sounding language and I learned that while it takes courage, it takes faith, it takes a feeling of just giving in to the inevitable, when we let Him, God will speak through us.
Individually and collectively, we all have a story of the crucifixion and resurrection played out in our own lives. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be here. I plead for you to join me, and God invites us all, in a much more dignified way, to join in the new story – the old story – the only story. And see where that leads us. It will lead us home.
Heather Lee
Proper 8, Year A, RCL
June 29, 2008
So. I was sure that this was going to be as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. 6 lines of Gospel on welcoming and 3 days at a Province 8 Stewardship, Evangelism and Congregational Development Conference. Yeah. You know, I’ll share with you a curse my grandmother left me. She said, Heather, you will never appreciate anything that comes easy. God and my grandmother are sitting in heaven these days just shaking their heads over that. Because last night, I typed up this lovely sermon on what I learned at Conference. And I knew it wasn’t great or prophetic or startling, or frankly even very interesting. And this morning I woke up with what conference planners call an ah-ha moment, but what I call prophetic revelation. And so, this morning, I wrote this down and stand before you now, but in my heart and shaking knees, I am sitting right beside you.
Today’s Gospel. Today’s Good News is about welcoming, it’s about hospitality and it is really about an old adage I learned as a child. “You get what you wish for.”
What I want to talk about this morning is what it is we wish for. It isn’t simple like a penny in a fountain. It is not talking about kindness begetting kindness. What we wish for is the self-fulfilling prophecy of our stories. Our story is who we are. Our story is the limiting factor of what we consider possible-and if we don’t believe something is possible-how can we recognize it when it comes along?
For instance, this community has recognized that this puny vessel can contain enough holy for one-and some to spare for a community, too. And that is why it takes community to discern anything – because one person, alone, before God, gets sand blasted – but a community standing together, telling the same story, spreads the power of God amongst its members and allows us all to approach the holy places, the thin places as they are called, without being burned by the magnitude of God’s desires for us.
In order for this to work the community must be telling the same story. In order for others to join the community it must know and live its story in a way that others can understand, can access, can tell authentically themselves. Because the story we tell that others can understand that others can tell authentically that they can see themselves in. That is the story that unfolds for a community.
Here at St. David’s this community tells the story of a general purpose meeting facility. We tell this story well. We, as Christians, tell this story to a generation, a population, that does not know our Christian story and cannot hear what we don’t tell. We are telling Colonial Heights, and the Hosford-Abernethy Neighborhood Association, and the Portland Metro Area the story of space for rent.
Not only is it any wonder that only renters come to share our story, do any of us even remember when that became our story? I can tell you – space for hire has not always been our story. And I don’t harken back to any Golden Age, because I wasn’t born then. But I can tell you in 2004-that was not the story of St. David’s. Because I would not have come back the second Sunday. I would not have become an acolyte. I would not have met friends like Sam Gregory, and Jon Williams and the Horners. And I would not have made family like Pat Thayer and Chas Dean and the Browns. And I would not have joined the story if Fr John hadn’t been speaking of discipleship and hospitality.
I, Heather, do not stand outside the circle on this. I, too, tell the story of parks and recreation. I, too, think the brochure should be all business. I, too stand before the fiery bush and hear God in this Gospel saying – you are reaping what you have sown. You are living the story you have told. You are getting the welcome you have given.
Right now, at this time, we are at a junction. There begins yet another round of “what to do with St. David’s” If I remember correctly, the Standing Committee was supposed to have given our question some space on the agenda yesterday. Right now, we have the floor, to tell our story. And the question is-Do we tell the story of “Space for lease-cheap rates” or do we tell the Gospel? Do we tell the story of crucifixion and resurrection and reconciliation of all things?
When I first came to this parish, Molly told us all a story of Phoenix Rising. That was her story of St. David’s. Somewhere in my heart-I still hold that story, but with my mouth, with my feet, I have told the story of community center for so long, I wonder why I still get angry and surprised that people don’t show up on Sunday morning like they used to. Not in the golden era, but only since I have been here.
Today we have been given an invitation from God to wake up. To hear and feel the Holy Spirit. To speak and move as thought we ourselves would live and die and live again as Christ. Today, if we take it, we are given an invitation and Permission, to change the story we written, in assessment reports and newspaper articles. We are allowed to reclaim the Gospel as our primary story.
If it is God’s will, nothing on earth will stop it. Something I learned last week is that God speaks in prophetic and often crazy sounding language and I learned that while it takes courage, it takes faith, it takes a feeling of just giving in to the inevitable, when we let Him, God will speak through us.
Individually and collectively, we all have a story of the crucifixion and resurrection played out in our own lives. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be here. I plead for you to join me, and God invites us all, in a much more dignified way, to join in the new story – the old story – the only story. And see where that leads us. It will lead us home.
Heather Lee
Proper 8, Year A, RCL
June 29, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Cultural Competency
This is an interview I did for someone's work in sociology.
Heather Lee, a facilitator in cultural competency and race relations for the Episcopal Diocese of Oregon.
1. How do you feel that cultural competency goes beyond cultural sensitivity/understanding?
Cultural competency is within a continuum of cultural bias that starts with the belief that one’s own culture can solve everyone’s needs to a place where we understand that other cultures have the capacity to solve their own problems by means that are relevant to them.
Cultural sensitivity is not enough. The realization that there are other cultures is not enough to change the bias that our own solutions will solve the problems of other people.
2. Do you feel like this is something that can be learned? What methodology do you feel could be 'best practice'?
I work almost exclusively with people of European descent on the issues of White Privilege and Classism. As participants of the dominant paradigm in the United States, many people are unaware of the differences between simple cultural sensitivity and true cultural competence.
I do believe that we can learn cultural competency, but not in a classroom like setting. Cultural competency happens when we achieve a change of heart, not a grade or certificate of completion.
The most effective way to achieve this change of heart is to go, as individuals, into relationships with people who are not like us and to be willing to be absolutely wrong about everything.
3. How do you or would you like to see relationship building especially as it relates to cultural competency?
Relationship building is the only way to achieve true competency in any human endeavor. In this, culture is only a small part of the whole wheel of –isms, class, race, religion, gender, age, etcetera are all aspects where our ability to be broken and rebuilt in relation are going to be necessary to live in an increasingly small global village.
4. How would you see peer mediation fitting into this dynamic?
I am skeptical of peer mediation in general. People who may be considered peers on paper, such as both being board members of an agency or company, are likely not peers in all ways that they access power. Women and men, people of different races, cultures or immigrant status, the sort of company they work for, all of these factors and many, many more influence how decisions are mediated.
And when there is training and supervision, it isn’t peer mediation anymore.
5. Do you feel that the hierarchical model of most workplaces facilitates cultural competencies?
Hierarchical models are intrinsically Western in their orientation and design. Like all good systems, they are also self-perpetuating. If we are truly interested in achieving cultural competency in the workplace, we must be willing to look to those who are traditionally left out of the power structure of hierarchies and ask them what organizational structures would meet their needs and allow them access to power. Those of us traditionally in power must be willing to let go of that power in order that others may speak and lead. This is very hard to do.
Heather Lee, a facilitator in cultural competency and race relations for the Episcopal Diocese of Oregon.
1. How do you feel that cultural competency goes beyond cultural sensitivity/understanding?
Cultural competency is within a continuum of cultural bias that starts with the belief that one’s own culture can solve everyone’s needs to a place where we understand that other cultures have the capacity to solve their own problems by means that are relevant to them.
Cultural sensitivity is not enough. The realization that there are other cultures is not enough to change the bias that our own solutions will solve the problems of other people.
2. Do you feel like this is something that can be learned? What methodology do you feel could be 'best practice'?
I work almost exclusively with people of European descent on the issues of White Privilege and Classism. As participants of the dominant paradigm in the United States, many people are unaware of the differences between simple cultural sensitivity and true cultural competence.
I do believe that we can learn cultural competency, but not in a classroom like setting. Cultural competency happens when we achieve a change of heart, not a grade or certificate of completion.
The most effective way to achieve this change of heart is to go, as individuals, into relationships with people who are not like us and to be willing to be absolutely wrong about everything.
3. How do you or would you like to see relationship building especially as it relates to cultural competency?
Relationship building is the only way to achieve true competency in any human endeavor. In this, culture is only a small part of the whole wheel of –isms, class, race, religion, gender, age, etcetera are all aspects where our ability to be broken and rebuilt in relation are going to be necessary to live in an increasingly small global village.
4. How would you see peer mediation fitting into this dynamic?
I am skeptical of peer mediation in general. People who may be considered peers on paper, such as both being board members of an agency or company, are likely not peers in all ways that they access power. Women and men, people of different races, cultures or immigrant status, the sort of company they work for, all of these factors and many, many more influence how decisions are mediated.
And when there is training and supervision, it isn’t peer mediation anymore.
5. Do you feel that the hierarchical model of most workplaces facilitates cultural competencies?
Hierarchical models are intrinsically Western in their orientation and design. Like all good systems, they are also self-perpetuating. If we are truly interested in achieving cultural competency in the workplace, we must be willing to look to those who are traditionally left out of the power structure of hierarchies and ask them what organizational structures would meet their needs and allow them access to power. Those of us traditionally in power must be willing to let go of that power in order that others may speak and lead. This is very hard to do.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
June 10, 2008
This is from my mother. Interestingly, it is what I remembered a few days ago, that finally allowed me to let go of all this. Thanks mom, you rock.
How do I feel about you going into the priesthood? You know that I'm proud of you and I know that you can do anything you set your mind and heart to. God's chosen you to do his work and you have excepted his call. Not everyone will answer his call with a yes.
I love you and I'm a very proud mom.
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