Rogation Prayers

 I. For fruitful seasons

Almighty God, Lord of heaven and earth: We humbly pray
that your gracious providence may give and preserve to our
use the harvests of the land and of the seas, and may prosper
all who labor to gather them, that we, who are constantly
receiving good things from your hand, may always give you
thanks; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns
with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

II. For Commerce and Industry

Almighty God, whose Son Jesus Christ in his earthly life
shared our toil and hallowed our labor: Be present with your
people where they work; make those who carry on the industries
and commerce of this land responsive to your will; and give
to us all a pride in what we do, and a just return for our labor;
through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with
you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for
ever. Amen.

III. For stewardship of creation

O merciful Creator, your hand is open wide to satisfy the
needs of every living creature: Make us always thankful for
your loving providence; and grant that we, remembering the
account that we must one day give, may be faithful stewards
of your good gifts; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with
you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever
and ever. Amen.

all prayers from the Book of Common Prayer

When Death Comes

As you read this poem, ask yourself a simple question and take some time to ponder it: "How, then, shall I live?" ~ Parker Palmer

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited the world.

(When Death Comes (by Mary Oliver))

May 25 Sermon (Easter 6)

O God, Author of the world's joy, Bearer of the world's pain; At the heart of all our trouble and sorrow let unconquerable gladness dwell; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

That prayer comes from The Armed Forces Prayer Book, first published in 1951 for use by members of the Armed Forces during the Korean War. Those who served this country have been on my mind all week.

Ellen and I just watched the movie, The Monuments Men, based on the true story “of a group of men and women from thirteen nations, most of whom volunteered for service during World War II who had expertise as museum directors, curators, art historians, artists, architects, and educators. Their job description was simple: to protect cultural treasures so far as war allowed.”

To jump into a war to protect and save cultural treasures, is an amazing thing; the willingness to lay down one’s life for the good of the world, as so many soldiers did. As I thought about the sacrifice so many made, I ran across these thoughts from the author Parker Palmer on Facebook, putting all of our lives in perspective.

“Every wisdom tradition I know urges us to cultivate active awareness of our mortality — because keeping that simple reality before our eyes enhances our appreciation of life, even when things get tough. It also increases the odds that we will come to some new resolve about how we want to live.

For example, how might things change if more of us regarded every person as "a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth"? Closer to home, what might happen for me and others if I myself held everyone I met in such respectful regard?

As you hear this poem, ask yourself a simple question and take some time to ponder it: "How, then, shall I live?" -> When Death Comes by Mary Oliver

Parker Palmer asks the right question – How then shall I live? Have we made of our lives something particular and real, or are we instead sighing and frightened, or full of argument.

“I don't want to end up simply having visited the world.” Is a beautiful line of M Oliver poem.

The men and women who served during WWII and for 6 years after in MFAA, understood their lives in connection to the beauty and majesty of that cultural art, archives and treasures… they knew how to live because they had a mission…

“While we must and will win this war, we should also remember the high price that will be paid if the very foundation of modern society is destroyed. They tell us, “who cares about art?”. But they’re wrong, it is the exact reason we are fighting, for culture, for a way of life.”

While this is a quote from the movie & not any of their actual words, I find it helpful, because it speaks to what they did, for their lives connected to the art & artifacts they were trying to save, and that they too had a part to play in saving civilization.

There was a hero in these efforts who risked her life. Her name was Rose Valland, a French museum employee who covertly kept track of where the Nazis shipped stolen artworks. Valland worked in the Jeu De Paume museum in Paris during the Nazi occupation, which was used as the German base of operations for the looting of Europe's art treasures. Unknown to the Nazis, Valland spoke German, and used her knowledge to record their entire operation, and when the last trains were trying to leave Paris with the last of the stolen art, she informed the resistance who were able to stop them. Rose Valland's bravery and skill, as well that of the hundreds of civilians who served in the Monuments, Fine Arts and Archives Section, risked everything in the cause of art. Because of them, civilization's artistic heritage survived the devastation of World War II.

How then shall I live?

Jesus said to his disciples, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you. I will not leave you orphaned; In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live.”

It is the promise that Jesus gives to us, that we will not be left as orphans that the Holy Spirit will abide with us in our time, in all that we do.

It is that trust and hope, that guided the life of St. Paul, who in our reading today, speaks to the inhabitants of Athens from the Areopagus. Using their own place of worship, he connects them with the faith that he has been called to tell them about.

“For `In him we live and move and have our being'; as even some of your own poets have said, `For we too are his offspring.' Since we are God's offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead."

Their worship is now connected with Jesus, for the one they worship is not to be found living in shrines made by human hands, they are to find the one who was raised by God from the dead. Not in gold, silver or stone, but God who became one of us in Jesus. It is our heritage today.

Be it on a battlefield in Europe or on Mars Hill in Greece, be it in our homes, our places of work or school or play, even today out there as we watch a parade, the question still remains, “How then shall I live?” We remember today those who knew what they were to do with their lives and we honor them. In our lives may we accept the gift that Jesus gives so that full of the Spirit, we can see our lives full of amazement, taking the world into our arms, just as Jesus did, so that at the end of our days, we do not wonder if we truly lived but indeed, know we did.

Come Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth our Advocate, fill the hearts of your faithful & kindle in us the fire of your love and You shall renew the face of the earth. Amen.

Easter 5 Sermon

O Lord, open our eyes
To behold your presence.

O Lord, open our ears
To hear your voice.

O Lord, open our hearts
To receive your love.

O Lord, help us to behold, to hear and to receive you in Word and Sacrament
That we may proclaim your praise in all we do and say. Amen. (adapted from a prayer by David Adam)
As I read the first reading this week from the Acts of the Apostles, I had thought about having a reenactment. Since Stephen is remembered as the first deacon, I though Deacon Christopher should play him and I could play the part of the crowd. Wouldn’t that be fun? I’m kidding…

But it is interesting that in the midst of Easter, as we think about that new life that Jesus gives through the resurrection, we hear about the death of Stephen.

What we know about Stephen is in the 6th and 7th chapters of the Acts of the Apostles. As one author explained:

“The early Christian congregations, like the Jewish synagogues, had a program of assistance for needy widows, and some of the Greek-speaking Jews in the Jerusalem congregation complained that their widows were being neglected. The people based on the apostles words, accordingly chose seven men, including Stephen, and the apostles laid their hands on them. They are traditionally considered to be the first deacons, although the Scriptures do not use the word to describe them.

Stephen was an eloquent and fiery speaker, and a provocative one. (Some have speculated that some of his fellow Christians wanted to put him in charge of alms in the hope that he would administer more and talk less.) His blunt declarations that the Temple service was no longer the means by which penitent sinners should seek reconciliation with God enraged the Temple leaders, who caused him to be stoned to death. As he died, he said, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." One of those who saw the stoning and approved of it was Saul of Tarsus, who took an active part in the general persecution of Christians that followed the death of Stephen, but who later became a Christian himself and we know him as Paul.” (from James Kiefer's Christian Biographies)

Stephen is often neglected in our thoughts because his feast day falls on December 26, the day after Christmas. But we sing this famous song: “Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the feast of Stephen…”

Today, he falls into our readings because of his faithfulness, not only his work as a deacon, but his proclamation of faith before the council, and his willingness to die for his faith and became the first martyr in the Acts of the Apostles. Yesterday, in our commemorations we remembered the martyrs of Sudan. It started on May 16, 1983, when a small number of leaders in the Episcopal and Roman Catholic declared they “would not abandon God as they knew him.” From 1983 to 2005, 2 million were killed in Sudan. This hymn, written by Sudanese children in exile in Ethiopia, reflects both the tragedy and depth of the faith of the Christians in Sudan:

Look upon us, O Creator who has made us.
God of all peoples, we are yearning for our land.
Hear the prayer of our souls in the wilderness.
Hear the prayer of our bones in the wilderness.
Hear our prayer as we call out to you.

The martyrs remind us that the light still shines in the darkness, that Easter faith we celebrate, guided them, even in the worst of days. It reminds me of this poem:

God has not promised
skies always blue,
flower strewn pathways
all our lives through.

God has not promised
sun without rain,
joy without sorrow,
peace without pain.

But God has promised
strength for the day,
rest for the laborer,
light on the way,
grace for the trial,
help from above,
unfailing sympathy,
undying love.

(see the whole poem here)

The message is that in the midst of it all, God is with us. In the Gospel for today, Jesus reminds us that he goes ahead to "prepare a dwelling place" for each of us, to believe in him and God, to trust the works that have been done, the stories that have been told and to live knowing that our lives are a journey to that place, which Jesus prepares for us. I think the martyrs lived into the faith and hope of that expectation.

I read a story in the NY Times, entitled “Ashes to Ashes, but First a Nice Pine Box” which talks about, the invitation by Jesus to live our lives fully, even as we acknowledge that a some point, death awaits us all. This is written by Jeffrey M. Piehler, who is a retired thoracic surgeon.

“NOT long ago, my wife and I had a good friend over for a glass of wine… I calmly announced to my wife: “I’m going to build my own coffin. I just thought you should know.” It didn’t go over well…I hadn’t anticipated so much resistance. The plan didn’t seem so extreme to me — I have incurable Stage 4 prostate cancer, which I learned I had at age 54. I’ve been living with it for 11 years, and in that time I’ve tried every conventional treatment and many trial ones… My journey is coming to an end relatively soon. The remaining treatment options are mostly minor modifications of previous failures. My bones are riddled with metastatic disease, and I’m starting to need pain medications. As we used to say in the medical business, I’m starting to circle the drain.

Yes, but why build your own coffin? When I mention it to others, most are distinctly uncomfortable with what they interpret as my abandonment of the “fight against cancer,” which by their reasoning must be the explanation for my continued survival. I must be giving up. That my motivation is the exact opposite eludes them. In fact, it is a project that I wish I had started much earlier. I find comfort in simplicity and familiarity and, I suppose, purity. Making my own coffin was the answer. A plain pine box. My own plain pine box. Creating something of beauty and purpose would be both a celebration of life and an acceptance of my death.”

He contacted Peter, a carpenter and artist, who agreed to work with him if his wife and family approved, which they eventually did. As they worked together they developed a close friendship. They talked about what they wanted to accomplish with their remaining lives and what they regretted about their pasts. It gave Dr. Piehler an outlet to talk about his fears of death and leaving his family.

Dr. Piehler writes: "We'd made a stunningly beautiful pine box, and a stunningly beautiful friendship. But we knew neither could last, and that this was the very reason to celebrate them.

"Something else happened, too. The project smoothed the edges of my thoughts. It's pretty much impossible to feel anger at someone driving too slowly in front of you in traffic when you've just come from sanding your own coffin. Coveting material objects, holding on to old grudges, failing to pause and see the grace in strangers - all equally foolish. While the coffin is indeed a reminder of what awaits us all, its true message is to live every moment to its greatest potential.

So the box now sits at the ready for its final task, when together we will be consigned to the flames. I find comfort in knowing where my body will lie, and just above it, embossed on the underside of the coffin’s lid, in front of my sightless eyes — my favorite line of poetry: “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

In our simplest everyday "works" of generosity and forgiveness, in the simple love and care we give and receive from family and friends, we begin to know God and understand the fullness of the life he calls us to - a dying physician rediscovers that meaning in the practical preparations for his death.

He lives in that hope that Jesus says, believe in God, believe in me, I have many dwelling places prepared for you, don’t worry, don’t live in fear, you have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night to come. Stephen and the martyrs of Sudan remind us to “live every moment to its greatest potential” with the faith in Jesus that calls us to live more deeply now with the hope of what is to come. Amen.

NY Times: Ashes to Ashes, but First a Nice Pine Box

An excellent article in the NY Times from February.  Written by Jeffrey M. Piehler is a retired thoracic surgeon.

An excerpt:

NOT long ago, my wife and I had a good friend over for a glass of wine. We had drunk just enough to feel pleasantly liberated in thought. Or at least that’s how I felt. Probably that’s why it seemed a good moment to bring it up. So, I calmly announced to my wife: “I’m going to build my own coffin. I just thought you should know.”

It didn’t go over well. Her first reaction — silence — quickly turned to blind anger. Then came demands for explanation, then commands to desist. Finally she fell silent again, this time not in disbelief but in punishing disapproval.

I hadn’t anticipated so much resistance. The plan didn’t seem so extreme to me — no more extreme, anyway, than my circumstances. I have incurable Stage 4 prostate cancer, which I learned I had at age 54. I’ve been living with it for 11 years, and in that time I’ve tried every conventional treatment and many trial ones. 

[...]

We’d made a stunningly beautiful pine box, and a stunningly beautiful friendship. But we knew that neither could last, and that this was the very reason to celebrate them.

Something else has happened, too. The project has smoothed the rough edges of my thoughts. It’s pretty much impossible to feel anger at someone for driving too slowly in front of you in traffic when you’ve just come from sanding your own coffin. Coveting material objects, holding on to old grudges, failing to pause and see the grace in strangers — all equally foolish. While the coffin is indeed a reminder of what awaits us all, its true message is to live every moment to its greatest potential.

So the box now sits at the ready for its final task, when together we will be consigned to the flames. I find comfort in knowing where my body will lie, and just above it, embossed on the underside of the coffin’s lid, in front of my sightless eyes — my favorite line of poetry: “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

Read the whole article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/02/02/opinion/sunday/ashes-to-ashes-but-first-a-nice-pine-box.html

What God Hath Promised

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptation, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain, rocky and steep,
Never a river, turbid and deep.

But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

"What God Hath Promised" by Annie Johnson Flint, 1919. 

(Daughter of El­don John­son, An­nie was adopt­ed by the Flint fam­i­ly as a young girl. She at­tend­ed school in Tre­nton, New Jer­sey, and be­came a teach­er, but had to quit the pro­fess­ion af­ter on­ly few years when se­vere arth­ri­tis made her un­a­ble to walk. There­af­ter, she lived near the Clif­ton Springs San­i­tar­i­um, and be­gan writ­ing po­e­try.)

Pray for Syria

Even as we pray for the Sudan and Nigeria; we need to keep Syria in our prayers.

A Prayer for Reconciliation in Syria

God of history,
Witness of the struggles within families;
we pray for the divided family of Syria
as brother fights against brother,
and sister rejects sister.
We pray for those whose love of neighbour
has been destroyed in the bitterness of enmity.
May fear be submerged in compassion.
May distrust be diluted by hope,
as a vision of peace illuminates
darkened minds and hate-filled hearts.
We pray in the name of Christ,
our source of light and love. Amen.

A Prayer for Peace in Syria

Spirit of wisdom and grace,
the power of truth and judgement;
we pray for all who are working for peace
in the tangled conflict of Syria today.
For international leaders holding a thread of control,
for the politicians holding a thread of power,
for the religious leaders holding a thread of authority,
for the fighters holding a thread of influence,
and the citizens clinging to a thread of hope.
Bring unity through the untangled order of justice.
Bring reconciliation through truthful dialogue.
Bring new life through patient diplomacy,
determined mediation and courageous peace-making.
We pray in the name of Christ,
our source of inspiration and confidence. Amen.

A Prayer for the Victims of the Syrian conflict

We pray for those damaged by the fighting in Syria.
To the wounded and injured:
Come Lord Jesus.
To the terrified who are living in shock:
Come Lord Jesus
To the hungry and homeless, refugee and exile:
Come Lord Jesus
To those bringing humanitarian aid:
Give protection Lord Jesus
To those administering medical assistance:
Give protection Lord Jesus.
To those offering counsel and care:
Give protection Lord Jesus.
For all making the sacrifice of love:
Give the strength of your Spirit
and the joy of your comfort.
In the hope of Christ we pray. Amen.

- Posted using BlogPress from Rev. Kurt's iPhone!

Easter 4 Sermon

Breath of God inspire us,

Renew our faith

Restore our vision

Revive our love.

Breath of God inspire us,

Repair our broken-ness

Redeem our situation.

Resurrect our deadness

Breath of God come,

Refresh

Redeem

Restore us. Amen. (by David Adam)

My kids enjoy watching the reality show, The Voice.  It’s on NBC and they love to hear all the singing and the competition to find the one who will win the singing competition.  There are teams and coaches (the coaches being famous singers who help their team and their singers advance).  The public votes, all to find the next signing sensation, to find the one who has “the voice.”

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of officiating at a wedding of the granddaughter of Judy Ober.  Amy & Nick heard the voice, it was each other, and that voice of love has united them one to the other.

Today, we hear the voice of Jesus, who said, “The Good Shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice.”

The voice is the Good Shepherd calling to us, his flock. I think of our stained glass window.

Jesus promised that his voice would be the one to guide us, for he is also the gate for the sheep. “Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

And that is an important distinction – the voice that we hear, is it bringing us to a place of abundant life or is it a voice that only wants to steal and kill and destroy?

On a friend’s Facebook page, this week, I noticed a picture he shared from a church near him.  On it, Satan was saying “Your life is horrible” but the person was facing toward Jesus who said to her, “Just focus on me.”

Satan, the adversary, often is the one telling us our lives are worthless. But even more so, I find the voice of lies, also telling us how we can have a good life, by worrying only about ourselves and our needs, by fearing we don’t have enough.  I think of the words from a Peter Gabriel song:

I want to be with you

I want to be clear

But each time I try

It's the voice I hear

I hear that voice again

I'm listening to the conversation:

Judge and jury in my head

It's coloring everything

All we did and said

And still I hear that sharp tongue talking

Talking tangled words

I can sense the danger…

The voice, the one we listen to in our heads and in our hearts, is the one who leads us. Sometimes we are led astray like sheep, listening to another voice, maybe talking tangled words. It is then we lose our moral and ethical way and fear for what is to come, when we feel our footing slip beneath us as we try to navigate all of the twists and turns of our lives, but even then “it is Christ’s voice that can be heard above the noise and din of our lives if we listen for it with hope, conviction and faith.” (Jay Cormier)

The challenge for us is to listen, really listen for the voice of Jesus.  It reminds me of a story I read:

Years ago, a theology department at a major university hosted a church leader from central Europe.  The Soviet Union had just come apart and the pastor's country was emerging from a long dark night of oppression into the first light of freedom.  At a dinner for the pastor, guests were full of questions about what was happening in Europe and the former Soviet bloc. 

The minister responded slowly and cautiously at first, measuring his words, weighing their risk, a man unaccustomed to candor among relative strangers.  But as he gained confidence, he spoke of his church's struggle through hardship and persecution under the Communist regime.

He told about the days under totalitarianism, how the church was officially tolerated but always undermined and repressed, how the clergy were always monitored by secret agents who had infiltrated their ranks.

"We would have a meeting about some matter of church business," he recalled, "knowing for certain that not everyone seated at the table could be trusted; some of the 'clergy' present were, in fact, government agents."

The pastor paused for a moment and then added, "But even though these government spies were careful never to betray their true identities, we could always tell who they were."

"But how?" someone asked. "The voice," he replied.  'The voice.  Something in their voice would give them away." [Thomas G. Long, Whispering the Lyrics: Sermons for Lent and Easter.]

The pastor and his community developed an instinct for discerning the true voice from the false, the deceitful, the deceptive.  Every day so many voices shout at us, assault us, demand from us, seduce us.  They promise life, but they ultimately do not bring what they promise.  And so we like that pastor must learn to listen to the true voice, the voice of God, to the Good Shepherd who will lead us to abundant life.

As Thomas Merton put it, “Just remaining quiet in the presence of God, listening to Him, being attentive to Him, requires a lot of courage and know-how.”

If we are tuned to the voice of Christ through silence and prayer and action –we begin to discern the manipulations and falsehoods in the noise and begin to hear Christ’s voice for us and his voice crying out to us from others.   

As we continue to live into Easter, the resurrection of Jesus and our new life, we need to remember that the light still shines even in darkness, the voice still speaks even when others drown it out.

The challenge facing every disciple of Jesus is to listen for his voice in the quiet of our hearts, in the center of our spirits, to hear the voice calling us to abundant life.  If we listen carefully and faithfully, we can discern the voice of the Good Shepherd leading us through the gate to his blessed sheepfold.  Amen.

Remembering the Kidnapped Victims in Nigeria

#BringBackOurGirls  #PrayforNigeria

Today, in collaboration with the Anglican Women's Global Mission Network, the Episcopal Church in Connecticut asks you to join in prayer on Saturday, May 10 at noon for the quick release of our sisters in Nigeria. 

    "Gather on the front steps of your Church, the front steps of your home or wherever you may be but gather outdoors that your voice may be heard." -Kim Polhemus, Women's Global Mission Network

The following prayer is suggested for your use both on Saturday and to possibly incorporate into Sunday's worship which coincides with Mother's Day:

    O God, we cry out to you
    for the lives and the freedom
    of the 276 kidnapped girls in Nigeria.
    In their time of danger and fear,
    pour out your strong Spirit for them. 
    Make a way home for them in safety.
    Make a way back for them
    to the education that will lift them up.
    Hold them in the knowledge
    that they are not captive slaves,
    they are not purchased brides,
    but they are your beloved daughters,
    and precious in your sight. 
    Change the hearts and minds of their kidnappers
    and of all who choose violence against women and girls.
    Cast down the mighty from their seat,
    and lift up the humble and meek,
    through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
    -Written by Elizabeth Smith, Diocese of Perth, Australia

A New Board of Directors for Camp Washington

Camp Washington is seeking nominations for their Board of Directors who will help redefine, develop and support life changing experiences at the camp. The Board manages the business affairs and property of Camp Washington and is responsible for strategic planning. One of the first responsibilities of the newly reconstituted Board will be to hire an Executive Director to succeed Jean Handler who is retiring after 16 years of service.

This new Board will build on the 97-year tradition of Camp Washington and will help enable others to experience love, faith, the gifts of nature, and God's presence through the resources of Camp Washington. The Board needs energetic members with skills of leadership and a desire to facilitate transformation. For further information or to apply, click below. Questions may be directed to Bishop Jim Curry at jcurry@ctdiocese.org.

https://www.formstack.com/forms/ctepiscopal-campboard_membership_application_form

Tweeting Prayers of Racial Reconciliation

Each day at 10:30, 3:30 and 8:30, I tweet prayers in recognition of the work of Koinonia Farm, to join them in a moment of prayer, a prayer of our reconciliation in Christ.  After what we have heard from the Nevada Rancher, the owner of the LA Clippers, and other racial incidents, it is quite clear we have lots of work to do around racial reconciliation.

In 1942, Clarence & Florence Jordan and Martin & Mabel England formed Koinonia Farm as a Christian community located in Americus, Ga.  Its early existence "challenged racism, militarism, and materialism," which continues to plague us today.  It is a "demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God."

"The Koinonia mission: We are Christians called to live together in intentional community sharing a life of prayer, work, study, service and fellowship. We seek to embody peacemaking, sustainability, and radical sharing. While honoring people of all backgrounds and faiths, we strive to demonstrate the way of Jesus as an alternative to materialism, militarism and racism."

At 10:30, 3:30 and 8:30 each day you will hear the sound of a bell ringing at Koinonia. You will see each of us stop what we are doing to pray, meditate, reflect. We go into the silence to rest for a moment. We come out renewed. This time reminds us why we are here, helps us to think about the meaning of Koinonia and to reflect on the meaning of being a demonstration plot for the kingdom of God.

Whether here at Koinonia, around the corner, or on the other side of the earth, we ask that you join us in these important moments each day. They not only allow us to focus and seek blessing, but they can be a means of bringing us together. They remind us that we are all God's children and though we may have different responsibilities, it is together that we can bring about the Kingdom of God. (from http://www.koinoniapartners.org/bell.html)

Please join me, as we join them in prayer!

#BringBackOurGirls #Pray

Over 200 girls were taken from a school in the northern state of Borno on April 14 in Nigeria.  Some have escaped but now others have been kidnapped. Their whereabouts remain unknown and there is mounting anger and frustration in Nigeria at the failure of the government to find them.

This prayer was written by Elizabeth Smith from the Diocese of Perth, Anglican Church of Australia.

Prayer for the kidnapped Nigerian girls (May 2014)

O God, we cry out to you
for the lives and the freedom
of the 276 kidnapped girls in Nigeria.
In their time of danger and fear,
pour out your strong Spirit for them.
Make a way home for them in safety.
Make a way back for them
to the education that will lift them up.
Hold them in the knowledge
that they are not captive slaves,
they are not purchased brides,
but they are your beloved daughters,
and precious in your sight.
Change the hearts and minds of their kidnappers
and of all who choose violence against women and girls.
Cast down the mighty from their seat,
and lift up the humble and meek,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Easter 2 Sermon

Everliving God, who strengthened your apostle Thomas with firm and certain faith in your Son's resurrection: Grant us so perfectly and without doubt to believe in Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God, that our faith may never be found wanting in your sight; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Thomas said, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe."

It is the mystery of touch. Thomas wanted to see it and touch it, to know it is real.

We might call him a visual learner. He is much like us. He wanted to visually process the resurrection. He didn’t want to just hear the other disciples experience. He wanted an experience for himself. He simply wanted to touch and see.

Whenever I picture this scene, I see it through The Incredulity of Saint Thomas a painting by the Italian Baroque master Caravaggio that dates to around 1602. Jesus is guiding Thomas hand to touch the wounds, as a surprised Thomas watches him. Two other disciples take it all in.

“For Thomas, the days between the news of the resurrection and his own encounter with Jesus must have been anguished. He wanted to believe, of course; he wanted to see his old friend back to life, to see death defeated before his eyes. But the texture of reality around him breathed a different spirit: cold, earthly, indifferent, often cruel. Thomas saw the world turning gray on that Friday afternoon, his friend crucified on a cross and his hope crucified within. The touch of Jesus’ cold body must have lingered on his fingers, the touch of incarnated goodness now reduced to a static corpse, violated and beaten.

But then Jesus appears to him, seemingly beyond logic, and Thomas’ finger is warmed by new life, not the lifeless corpse he had touched before. Caravaggio amplifies the drama of this encounter with a technique, which he had learned from Leonardo da Vinci: the background is dark, and light is poured on Jesus’ body.

To Thomas this scene is more concrete and physical than anything around them. In fact, this moment will illuminate his life from now on: it will be the clarity which makes sense of this dark world, the understanding that will reshape his fears and hopes and loves and desires.” (René Breuel)

I think of a poem by DH Lawrence who puts it this way:

The future of religion is in the mystery of touch.
The mind is touchless, so is the will, so is the spirit.
First comes the death, then the pure aloneness,
which is permanent then the resurrection into touch.

It is that resurrection into touch, that Thomas is a part of. Touch and see and believe. Thomas did! But Thomas too often gets a bad rap for his insistence on having a resurrection experience. But don’t we all? He simply wanted to touch. So do we. We want to have and see such faith.

We all struggle to have that experience, the touch, the sight of Jesus before us. Author and priest Henri Nouwen puts it this way:

“Nobody recognizes Jesus immediately.
They think he is the gardener, a stranger, or a ghost.
But when a familiar gesture is there again –
breaking bread,
inviting the disciples to try for another catch,
calling them by name –
[showing them the wounds, having them touch]
his friends know he is there for them.

Absence and presence are touching each other.
The old Jesus is gone.
They can no longer be with him as before.

The new Jesus, the risen Lord, is there, intimately, more intimately than ever. It is an empowering presence. “Do not cling to me . . . but go . . . and tell” (John 20: 17).

The resurrection stories reveal the always-present tension
between coming and leaving,
intimacy and distance,
holding and letting go,
at-homeness and mission,
presence and absence.

We face that tension every day.
It puts us on the journey to the full realization
of the promise given to us.
“Do not cling to me” might mean
"This is not heaven yet”
but also
“I am now within you
and empower you for a spiritual task in the world,
Continuing what I have begun.
You are the living Christ.”

While many question whether the resurrection really took place,
I wonder if it doesn’t take place every day
If we have the eyes to see and ears to see.”
(Henri Nouwen, Sabbatical Journey) Amen.