The Daily Office: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of The Episcopal Church

My friend Todd has a personal trainer.

Three times a week, he stops by the gym and is put through a rigorous workout that includes all sorts of exercises that condition and buff his body into the kind of frame he desires. Todd is a very smart, busy man who relies on his trainer to put together the right kind of program to help him grow and develop.

One day after a workout I asked Todd, “Does your trainer show you a lot of different kinds of exercises that are more effective than the ones the rest of us do?” “No,” said Todd, “the main reason I have a trainer is not because of what he teaches me, but of how he pushes me. I know how to do all the exercises, I just need help doing them.”

Isn’t the Christian life a bit like this?

That's why I am particularly fond of the Daily Office in the Book of Common Prayer. It's where I find a framework for leading the kind of prayerful, devoted life I want to live. 

It’s been said that the faith life of the average North American Christian has developed little since Sunday School. Polls that test biblical literacy seem to support this (my favorite: 1 in 10 Christians believe Joan of Arc was Noah’s wife). This sense that our spiritual lives should take precedent over the development of our physical bodies or our careers is not widely shared both in the culture or in the Church.

It is poignant that Jesus did not spend much time showing us how to be physically fit or how to climb the corporate ladder. He commended us to pay the highest attention to our spiritual lives – knowing this would lead to the most fulfilling and satisfying life of all.  Yet we know we live in a culture that actively works against this. Indeed, growing more deeply into discipleship is life’s most difficult endeavor.

So do we need a personal trainer? You bet. In fact, we need several. And the Daily Office in the Prayer Book can serve as a seasoned companion on our journey as we set to form, or reform a regimen that allows us to take our spiritual lives as seriously as we take the development of other areas of our lives. In fact, summer is a wonderful time to take a step back and consider what deeper formation might look like. What concrete steps toward deeper discipleship might we look to take - and how can the Daily Office help?

God Loves Us While We're Sinning: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of The Episcopal Church

I have friends who believe that terrorists flew planes into the World Trade Center because of the abhorrent sexual behavior of Americans.

I have friends who believe that they can do things that will separate them from the love of God.

And I have a feeling both of these are connected; both assume that God reacts punitively to our bad behavior.

But my reading of the Bible, through the lens of Anglicanism, leads me somewhere different.  In John 17, Jesus' great prayer of affection, we hear Our Lord praying for his disciples. It is a heart-touching petition in which Jesus pleads that they’d be kept safe from harm and be able to experience the deep joy of God. Jesus is surely aware of what will soon come – Peter denying him and the rest of His disciples abandoning Him. Are there worse sins than these? Yet, in spite of their sin, past, present and future, Jesus is steadfast in his allegiance to them.

And Jesus is steadfast in His allegiance to us.

One of the more difficult notions for you and me to get our heads around is that God loves us in our sin. Sure, we, and the whole world, would be better to stop sinning, but it will never separate us from God. God is not a punisher. God is not a leaver. And Jesus’ ministry, in which He steadfastly prays for those who follow Him, continues to this day. This suggests there is no one who is more firmly rooting for you and me than Jesus.

By all means, quit sinning – now. By all means, embrace the reality that God is not (and cannot) love you any less because of your behavior. God cannot, not love you. That’s God’s job.

In what ways do we need to get rid of the guilt and relax in the knowledge that God really is on our side?

The Rev. Chris Yaw is the rector of St. David's Episcopal Church, Southfield, MI and moderator of this blog.

Common Prayer is Rather Uncommon, Really

By Kit Carlson

Sunday mornings are wonderful. The family of God gathered around the table, sharing in Christ’s Body and Blood, becoming Christ’s Body and Blood given for the world, then leaving for another six days out in the world, the place where most of us have our ministries and do our work.

So is one day really enough to charge us up for six days of work and worry?

One of the gifts lurking inside the Book of Common Prayer is the Daily Office.  Like the daily office to which we must trudge from Monday through Friday, these worship services are meant to be regular, routine, a daily practice like toothbrushing, a daily sustenance like eating.

Most of us don’t even know these services are in there, able to shape an entire day from sunrise to bedtime – Morning Prayer, Noonday Prayer, Evening Prayer and Compline. And if we have tried to pray with them at home alone, we have found them awkward, because they rely on a call and response style of praying. The leader says something and the others respond. Hard to do at home by yourself.

The trick is, this is common prayer. It is meant to be done in community, with others, saying these prayers together, holding them in common.

At our parish in East Lansing, we are trying an experiment this Lent. We are offering some kind of daily office service every day of the week, and we have asked folks to pick one and commit to it. Evensong on Mondays, Noonday prayer on Tuesdays, Holy Eucharist with healing prayers on Wednesdays, Morning Prayer on Thursdays, Facebook Morning Prayer and an Interfaith Noonday Prayer on Fridays, and Stations of the Cross on Saturdays.  Folks are gathering to pray together, in groups as small as three people, or as large as 40.  Just to pray. Together. In common.

You don’t need a church to do this.  You just need some folks. Your family. Your roommates. A few friends.  With a Book of Common Prayer and a small group, your prayer can become common … and routine …like brushing your teeth, or eating.

Where two or three are gathered, Jesus said he would be in the midst of them.

Kit Carlson is the rector of All Saints Episcopal Church in East Lansing, Michigan. 

Ashes to Go: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church

Welcome, my friends, to Lent.

This season joins us all to the shared human condition of sinfulness and repentance - things found not just in the Church, but outside.

Sure, Episcopalians aren't the only ones who mark this season (and our foreheads) - but this year hundreds, maybe even thousands, of clergy (and others) took to the streets in a missional attempt to bring Ash Wednesday ashes to foreheads of those who didn't go to church.  Volunteers went to bus stations, parking garages, and public squares (above) to remind folk that we are dust and to dust we shall return.

They did it to welcome people into this holy season - which is our annual tithe to the Lord - 10% of the year, 40 days, given to God’s deep attentions to our lives.

Christianity offers a radical way of understanding human flourishing that’s not rooted in the things that can be seen but in the things that can not be seen - like love, care, concern, affection, hope, and faith.

We challenge ourselves to do some radical things to combat the world’s assault on our souls.
The world says: Buy something for you.
Lent says: Give that money to the poor.
The world says: Practice self-indulgence.
Lent says: Practice self-discipline.
The world says: Feed your body.
Lent says: Feed your soul.

So as we offer ashes to all, confess our sins, skip meals, give alms, and read more Scripture. We’re not doing it because we want to get ahead in this world, but because we want to better imagine another world. We believe that when we get a deeper vision of that other world - the one with the Real Rewards - we are made stronger to resist the false rewards of this world. 

It is a message that sends us out into the world, ashes and all, to reconcile all things to Christ.
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Chris Yaw is the rector of St. David's Episcopal Church in Southfield, Michigan

Grandparents with Great Faith: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church

         You would have loved Grandma Ruth. We did. Our kids definitely did.
         Raising a young family in an established suburb of Detroit, we were the kids on the block. The folks who lived there built the neighborhood, raising their own families many years ago in an idyllic world that we could only imagine. They were from an era where neighbors watched out for each other.
         Grandma Ruth and her husband, Grandpa Bill – that’s what our young children called them (even though we weren’t related) – were the perfect neighbors. She would give our dog treats over the fence. And if we couldn’t find our kids right away, we knew where to look – next door, where they would fold laundry with Ruth, have an ice cream with Bill and generally love their elderly neighbors to pieces.
         At around the same time, my wife and I were growing increasingly disillusioned with the Catholic Church and wanted to explore other religions. We eventually found an Episcopal church in our town. The first time we had ever been inside an Episcopal church wasn’t under the best of circumstances. We went there for Ruth’s funeral.
         During the eulogy, given by Ruth’s daughter, we heard wonderful stories about Ruth. One of them included how grateful they were for our children, who obviously loved Ruth so much and came over almost every day to see her parents. That touched us, but I thought it spoke volumes about our neighbors.
         Ruth and Bill were always offering to help us whenever we needed it. Maybe it’s not a surprise that my wife and I knew finding this Episcopal Church was no accident. We knew this was the church we had long been seeking.  
         Thanks, Grandma Ruth.

         Rick Schulte is Director of Communications for the Episcopal Diocese of Michigan. You can keep tabs on all communications of the diocese on Facebook
(http://www.facebook.com/EpiscopalMichigan)

We Are Ancient and We Are New: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of The Episcopal Church.

(This month's post is from a special guest: Anne Rudig, head of Communications for The Episcopal Church)

Out with the old! In with the new! Happy New Year!

Wait a second – not so fast...

At least, that's what comes to mind after polling some in our tribe regarding our just-launched updated website:

"Gothic? Dark? Traditional? Fine. I am not an Episcopalian because I want to be "hip" and "21st century" and I still consider myself young. I like some tradition. I like cathedrals. If I wanted "Buddy Christ", I'd likely find a non-denominational mega church. The Episcopal church stands for a lot of "modern" thinking. I also enjoy and support that."

I have been responding to comments related to the new site that launched on December 28.  One thing that strikes me is that a few of us want to be new, without also remembering the rest of our identity, which is very old. We weren’t born yesterday, and people actually like that about us. Especially in uncertain times, they find great comfort in our prayers, worship, music, and even our worn wooden pews:

They are well worn, but polished. There is something about it that is used and old, but well maintained…You can tell people have held onto them over time, and the wood has been smoothed by age. I think it’s a good image of this church. It’s been shaped by people over time, and yet it’s timeless and substantial.

That quote is from research done with both current members and newcomers to The Episcopal Church. We heard that people love our church because it is steeped, but not mired, in tradition. Young people said that they want to “touch an ancient tradition, while asking a lot of questions.” The design of the new website evolved directly from this research.

I know that there can be no resurrection without death. It’s healthy to let go of some of our old “stuff.” In fact, we must. But we have an authentic and unique story to share, and it involves the old colliding with the new.  The stained glass motif of the new site allows us to showcase our contemporary church within an ancient framework. I think that’s a good metaphor for us. That’s where the drama lies, where the sparks of creative energy can fly. Not always comfortable, but more dynamic and relevant than any other church.

Happy New Year everyone!

Spilling the Secrets of Faith

To spill a secret: my family goes back six generations in the Episcopal Church — and before that, to the Church of England. I don’t talk about it much; it sounds a bit elitist, but underneath, I’m proud of it. The church has been both a bridge and a beacon for me, one that both stretches back and shines forward.

There’s an old saying that goes, “Faith can’t be taught; it has to be caught.” I caught that faith when growing up; not because all was right with the world, but probably because things were wrong.

My mother struggled with cancer, my father with alcoholism. And our parish church, St. David’s in Minnetonka, Minnesota, was there for them in their stuggles:  warm and welcoming, always providing a structure and a place of enduring hope. They had their church. They had their Prayer Books, handed down; they had their faith, passed on by previous generations. 

We went to church every Sunday, even in difficult times. We went to bake sales and parish fairs and church was a fun and positive place, despite the craziness at home. I  found I was not alone. I knew the presence of God; I knew the love of a parish family; I knew my way around the great stories of the Bible because someone had bothered to teach them to me.

There were “junior” choir rehearsals (not yet called “youth” choir). There was confirmation in the seventh grade (which worked out fine; I was glad it was then instead of later). There were potluck dinners and youth groups and retreats. There was a sense of normalcy. 

Church was a place of strength and respite. It was a place where the larger questions about life and death and faith were answered. No one was perfect. But there was love: God’s love. I knew I belonged; I knew the ground on which I stood. 

That love carried me through college and seminary and into parish life as a priest. I don’t expect the church to be perfect; it never is. But I do call it home, and love it dearly. 

A priest of 26 years, the Reverend Lindsay Hardin Freeman lives and works in the Episcopal Church of Minnesota. She is the author of The Scarlet Cord: Conversations with God’s Chosen Women and the editor of Wisdom Found: Stories of Women Transfigured by Faith. For more info, seewww.scarletcordbook.com

We Don’t Pledge Like Ferrets: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church

Ah, fall in the Episcopal Church. The leaves begin to turn, the program year is in full swing, and everyone breathlessly awaits the rector’s annual stewardship sermon. Sometimes the rector speaks in vague generalities about “scarcity” and “abundance” hoping that the message will get through by osmosis and at others the rector takes a page out of Jerry Maguire’s playbook and goes with a more direct approach: “Show me the money!”

This year I’ve been thinking about stewardship in light of my new status as a ferret owner. Why ferrets? Good question. Obviously my boys were involved since owning a ferret was never a childhood fantasy of mine. In fact, if I was asked to identify a ferret in a police line-up along with some similar suspects – weasel, rat, wombat-- I doubt I would have correctly fingered the ferret.

But one of the characteristics of ferrets is that they exhibit hoarding behavior. They like to stash things away whether it’s food or socks or keys. The good news is that they tend to ferret things away to the same location every time. So if you can’t find your remote control, it’s likely to be found in the same place they stashed your left slipper.

Now, I don’t have such practical problems because it’s not as if we let them run amok in the rectory. They live in a mansion of a cage that is larger than married student housing at most seminaries. But as I’ve thought about our relationship to money in this context, one thing has become clear – it’s hard to be in a fruitful relationship with God when we act like hoarders. Money is ultimately a gift to be shared rather than a resource to be hoarded. A right relationship with God involves a generosity of spirit which can never be fully realized by literally or metaphorically hiding all your money under the mattress.

So that’s the message this year – don’t pledge like a ferret! And allow the abundance of God’s grace to both pour out of you and upon you.

The Rev. Tim Schenck is Rector of the Episcopal Parish of St. John the Evangelist in Hingham, Massachusetts. Visit him on the web at www.frtim.com where you can access his blog “Clergy Family Confidential.”

Blessing the Animals: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church

I may have accidentally cursed Boo Boo—cursed him to death. But I honestly don’t think I have that I kind of power. It was my first St. Francis Day as a priest (I had been ordained only a couple of weeks) and the first dogs I blessed were a pair of Pomeranians named Yogi and Boo Boo. Boo Boo wasn’t feeling great that day, his owner told me, and I offered an additional prayer for healing for the fuzzy-faced dog. But nevertheless, the very next day I received word that Boo Boo had died.

The Blessing of Animals on the Feast of St. Francis is not a strictly Episcopalian thing to do, but it is one of the liturgies we are best known for. There are no official liturgies to bless pets in the Book of Common Prayer, no special edition of Enriching Our Worship dedicated to ministry with non-humans. We are not the only denomination that blesses animals, and yet, in some circles we are best known for offering this unofficial rite.

Every year I meet people who only come to church on the Sunday following Oct. 4^th to have their pet blessed. I never see them at Easter, their children are neither baptized nor confirmed, and they are ambivalent about their belief in the existence of God, but doggone it, they bring their dog to be blessed every year.

Blessing people’s pets can be the most important ministry that a parish can offer someone. I think sometimes it is easier to receive a blessing from God for your dog than it is for yourself. Priests ask for God’s blessing on all sorts of things for holy use. This ministry incorporates dogs and cats into the sacred calling of being God’s agents of grace in a harsh and lonely world.

Boo Boo’s death was not the result of a rookie mistake, a blessing-curse mix-up. Blessing that dog in his final hours gave his family immense comfort in knowing that Boo Boo truly died in peace. Perhaps the blessing gave him permission to let go and die.  All I know is that this ministry is totally worth the extra laundry I have to do to wash the dirty paw prints off of my alb.

The Rev. Lindsay Lunnum serves as the Assistant Rector at the Church of St. Barnabas in Irvington-on-Hudson, NY.

Union with God: Why I Am Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church

If you were in your twenties in the 1960s, you probably were overly interested in the search for “the meaning of life.” You could fulfill that quest for meaning through many avenues - political action, sex, drugs, rock and roll, and, believe it or not, through religion.  Well, it wasn’t so cool if it was conventional religion but Eastern religions and peyote certainly were. 

As one of those children of the 60s I developed an unusual interest in one quite conventional form of religion – the Episcopal Church. I discovered, unexpectedly, it brought all my other unconventional paths together.  The beauty of the parish church and the quiet, profound reverence surrounding the Eucharist were suggesting that a door to the meaning of life might lie just inside the Episcopal Church, a short walk from my college campus.  There was a dawning awareness that the answer to meaning in life was God. 

Yet those more eastern paths to God were also being explored.  I wanted to be just like J.D. Salinger’s Glass family.  I imagined a closet door inscribed with quotes from all the great world’s religions and myself immersed in the Vedanta, Sutras and the teachings of the great mystics.  One day reading Franny and Zooey by Salinger I reached this point in Zooey’s attempt to reach through to Franny in her crisis.  “I swear to you you’re missing the whole point of the Jesus Prayer.  The Jesus Prayer has one aim, and one aim only.  To endow the person who says it with Christ-Consciousness.” 

I was intrigued, but I really didn’t know what Zooey meant.  Nor did I know that The Way of the Pilgrim, the book that brought on Franny’s crisis, and the teaching about the Jesus prayer were real, not simply a figment of Salinger’s imagination.  Not long after as it happened, a friend and fellow reader of Salinger excitedly placed in my hand an actual copy of The Way of the Pilgrim.  And lo and behold, what did I notice but this exotic book that seemed to have leaped out the pages of Franny and Zooey and into my hands was published by an arm of the Episcopal Church – Seabury Press.  And as I stepped into this new and strange world of the Russian pilgrim I read this.  “My heart kindled with desire for union with God by means of interior prayer.”  At that point I understood Zooey’s words about the meaning of the Jesus prayer.  It was a turning point in my spiritual life. The goal of life is union with God and there is a way towards that goal.

And the connection between Seabury Press, which had the vision and courage to publish this strange book, and the Episcopal Church, where I was beginning to discover a home, was not lost.  These Episcopalians must value the spiritual journey.  They obviously are not afraid of the mystical aspect of the Christian faith.  And they believe that the end and purpose of life is union with God. 

There is meaning to this life.  It is union with God.  The Episcopal Church has provided a wonderfully beautiful environment for me to grow within the community of Christ towards this goal.  The examples of how this is so are countless, but the Episcopal Church has said it best.  In the catechism we’re asked what the Church is sent by God to accomplish, what is the mission of the Church?  “The mission of the Church is to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.”  And that’s one very good reason I’m fond of the Episcopal Church.

This month’s guest post is from The Rev. Bob Hart, an Episcopal priest in the Diocese of Michigan where he currently serves as interim minister at St. James Episcopal Church in Birmingham, MI.

Connecting Faith and Food: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church

Faith and food are at the center of Christian belief. The Eucharist takes the practice of sharing a meal to its most mystical extreme, uniting us with Christ and to all believers, past and present, who have gathered at our common table. Biblical stories of feeding—from God’s gift of manna to the wandering Israelites to Jesus’s feeding of the five thousand—animate the Christian values of hospitality, generosity, and compassion.

Of course, the centrality of food in faith is not about dramatic gestures but about the everyday practice of creating, sharing, and nourishing one another from the gifts we receive. Hence the lowly church coffee hour, soup supper and potluck, which extend Eucharistic spirituality further into community. Given how rooted our lives and our faith are in sharing food, its no wonder that food-related spirituality is part of the Digital Reformation.

A Facebook group called Episcopal Foodies Network (EFN) popped up a year ago, “To eat and drink and share the finest of things with the finest of people.” Members share recipes, restaurant reviews, links to other food-related sites, stories of food ministries, and photo after photo of delicious-looking dishes. Members have hosted one another as they’ve traveled to other cities and set up dining excursions to local restaurants, all by way of bringing together the basic human needs of food, friendship, and faith.

Likewise, the blog Catholic Cuisine (http://catholiccuisine.blogspot.com/), links recipes to the liturgical calendar. And, a growing number of the faithful, like a seminarian who blogs as The Reverend Chef (@reverendchef), link food to faith. All of this points to a fundamental irony about life in the Digital Reformation: rather than separating and dehumanizing us, our digital participation can be profoundly connective and deeply humanizing, illustrating the reach of faith in daily life and inviting us into new relationships that extend easily from digital to local space.

This month’s guest contributor is Elizabeth Drescher, former director of the Center for Anglican Learning and Leadership at Church Divinity School of the Pacific, and is currently at Santa Clara University.  She blogs at www.elizabethdrescher.net and her current book is Tweet if You Love Jesus.

From Transcendence to Presence: My Affection for Anglican Tradition is rooted in the Now – A Guest Post by The Rev. Jim Hamilton

 **First, an important word about our future: Facebook is shutting down our group!  Apparently we are an ‘old group’ and too big to be a ‘new’ group, so our best option is to become a ‘Page.’  This means you will have to opt-in to join.  So please go here right now: http://tiny.cc/rp6qx and hit the ‘Like’ button on the upper right. This will ensure we can stay connected!  Sorry for the hassle, talk to Zuckerberg.  And note that this message will be sent out a few more times just to make sure no one misses it.**

Now, our guest post:

The credence table is set, candles lit, altarware ready.  Now, I can prepare myself.  Sure, I can go through the motions; the drama will pull me in even if my heart resists.  Everything about the setting, the ragtag group gathered, the drone of prayers and praises undergirding the prayer I sing will guide me into my meditation.  No matter my anxiety, distraction or frustration, God will meet me in the moments to come.  Peace flows into me like the tide to the pool by the shore.*  But, I find that further depth is reached when I wade in first, wash up, prepare myself. 

“Set your minds on high,” I sing my invocation, now barefoot, surrounded by candlelight and dressed in a friend’s cassock.  “From common things to the mysterious we set our focus,” my friends and family reply, dancing with each other in harmonies as the melody is constructed for the first time.  While the prayer is far from common, it mingles in a choral mass enriched by every individual voice, mistakes and all, in search of perfection.  There may be no red book to follow along with, but we are people of the spirit of the book.

This service an emergent worship laboratory that some of my friends and I have been nurturing in a posh suburb of a disheartened Detroit.  Though this particular project is in its early stages, its dramatic otherness, its transcendence to draw me into Presence is a perfect example of why I love the Episcopal Church.

William Temple expressed what I mean; “To the restless fever of this world and its tumult no man can bring healing unless he habitually lives in the presence of the eternal God with whom is no variableness nor shadow of turning, and has in his own soul some measure of the peace which passeth understanding.  We are not to neglect the eternal world but to live here and now as its citizens.”

It is the expansive now-ness of this church that I fell in love with in my twenties, its commitment to service, its readiness and community.  Now, in my thirties, I find that our unique blend of past and yet to come makes the now even deeper.  It is the peace in our worship that drives us to service, revived and excited to spread the love of God.  I would be wrong to brag that we have a monopoly on now-ness.  In fact, Episcopalians make up the minority of our little Anglican experimental worship service.  But, the service itself is a gift from an Episcopal tradition to an inquisitive world.  I see no reason why we must nurture our gift within a paradigm of worry, desperate for self preservation for its own sake.  Maybe our call is to, without requiring membership or inculcation, share this liturgical peace which passeth understanding with a restless, feverish and tumultuous world.

* from a poem by Sarah Teasdale

The Rev. Jim Hamilton is rector of Trinity Episcopal Church in Farmington Hills, Michigan, and convenor of Lex Orandi.  Plug into their Facebook page here: http://tiny.cc/xdihe

Looking Out, Not Up: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (June 2011)

With Ascension Day upon us, and a bit of time to pause before the end of the world (phew, spared again!), we have a God-given reprieve to consider that part of our heritage that puts less weight on notions of Rapture and Apocalypse and more weight on the present suffering and our high calling to do something about it.

Harold Camping is just the latest in a long line of doom and gloom preachers who gather adherents not because of their faultless hermeneutics, but because of their appeal to our longing for home.  This would have us standing on the holy mount where Jesus ascended doing nothing but looking up, awaiting a promised return.  After all, 'that’s what the Bible says!'  Researchers note that during periods of rapid change, fundamentalism frequently gains popularity.  The world is spinning faster, more capriciously, and who doesn’t want control, certitude, and surety?  There is an appeal to a ‘Home Sweet Home’ for which many people are willing to pay a high price.

However, instead of endlessly parsing Revelation for a way out, what is greatly appreciated about the Episcopal Church is its emphasis on John 17 (this Sunday’s Gospel!), which promises eternal life right now.  We need not await the eschaton to be with Jesus, which means my posture is not one of standing around looking up for a divine escape route, but to look out, where Christ is calling us.  The Episcopal Church reminds me that a much more central message of Jesus is to ‘go ye’ into the world to do the work of Our Lord, to heal, feed, clothe, and reconcile.  We have only precious moments before check-out time.  Let us have the courage to look out at a mission field that longs for workers, not straining our ears to hear Gabriel’s trumpet, but the cries of the hungry, naked, and hurting whom we have the privilege to serve.

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**An important word about our future: Facebook is shutting down our group People Who Are Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church.  We are too big to be a ‘new’ group, so our best option is to become a ‘Page.’  This means you will have to opt-in to join.  So please type into your Facebook search box: “People Who Are Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church.”  Then go to the ‘Pages’ (not the Groups) result.  Once you are on this page hit the ‘Like’ button on the upper right. This will ensure we can stay connected!  Sorry for the hassle, talk to Zuckerberg.  And note that this message will be sent out a few more times just to make sure no one misses it.

A Great Place to Ask Questions: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (May 2011)

People of faith have certainly had plenty to ponder lately. Between deadly storms, assassinated terrorists, and the spectacle of the royal wedding witnessed by two billion people (though it took place in a lovely and historic abbey, not everyone agrees on how God might be at work there…).

In the midst of this swirl, Thomas the Apostle walks onto the stage on the Sunday after Easter.  Most people call him “Doubting Thomas” but I like to call him “Good Question Thomas.” He does what many would be afraid to do: he asks the obvious question.  How do we know?  How do we know that Jesus was raised from the dead? How do we know that God’s love is really stronger than death?

It is precisely in these moments that I am grateful for the Episcopal Church. We offer a place where it’s OK to ask questions. This is not a church where you have to nod along as if you understand everything, as if you agree with every word. You can ask obvious questions. You can ask difficult questions. You can even ask painful questions.

Thomas’s question was, I think, courageous. And to his credit, when confronted with the truth that Jesus was raised from the dead and that God’s love really is stronger than death, Thomas believed. My Lord and my God! He asked the question with an open mind, and he kept his mind open in discernment and inquiry.

I love that when we waver in our faith, we can ask questions. When we’re not sure where God fits into the picture, we can ask questions. As much as that, I love that the Episcopal Church is a place where the sacraments are offered beautifully, where people are fed fully, and where all people are welcomed openly.

Let us have the courage, like Thomas, to bring our questions. And like Thomas, let us keep our minds open to see God at work all around us. My Lord and my God!

This post was written by The Rev. Scott Gunn, a prolific blogger (www.sevenwholedays.org), a priest in the Diocese of Rhode Island who enjoys his family, reading, music, travel, and asking questions.

Ashes and Diamonds: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (Apr 2011)

A Special Lenten Guest Post by The Rt. Rev. Kirk S. Smith

As we all learned in our high school science class, life cannot exist without carbon. All life, from the lowest paramecium to the largest blue whale are dependent on this essential element — number 6 on the periodic table and the fourth most common element in the universe. We are all carbon-based.

An interesting element, this carbon - we usually think of it as black and crumbly, like charcoal, soot, or black smoke coming from a chimney or the graphite in our pencils, even though there is far more of it in the air as invisible carbon dioxide. But we should also not forget that this same element, which looks so dark and dirty, is also the same element that makes up the most beautiful and strongest thing we know — diamonds. Carbon is something we associate with death and decay, but it is also the source of strength, brilliance, and fire.

It is a juxtaposition we all know well.

St Paul says..."For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.  For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do — this I keep on doing...”  And Paul asks what we ask — "Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!"

So we see carbon-based life is destined for more than ashes, more than the grave. The ashes we wear in this solemn season remind us to await the power of God who desires more than anything else to turn our carbon, our ashes, into diamonds.

The Rt. Rev. Kirk S. Smith is the Episcopal Bishop of Arizona.

Incredible Poetry! Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (Mar 2011)

(Guest post by Ashley Busse, PhD)

Episcopalians are the beneficiaries of a wonderful repertoire of rich and gifted poetry, few have contributed more than Richard Wilbur.  As you may know, he’s the author of the beautiful hymn, “A Stable Lamp is Lighted” (#104, Hymnal 1982).  Wilbur’s poetry is not only stunningly elegant, profound, and moving, it also clearly reflects many of the values and beliefs of the Episcopal Church, of which he is a longtime communicant. 

For example, across his 80-year career (b. 1921, he published his first poem at age 8), Wilbur has remained committed to the use of traditional verse forms and meters, even as these have gone in and out of fashion.  Despite what some might see as the constraints and restraints of these forms, Wilbur has said that they are “simply instruments or contraptions which heighten and empower [a poet’s] words,” enabling him to express simultaneously timeless and relevant truths about the human condition.  This idea might resonate with those of us nourished by the Book of Common Prayer, which both structure and set free our worship.

Wilbur’s poetry reflects the optimism and hope that the Episcopal faith offers in the midst of a dark and sometimes terrifying world.  He once told an interviewer, "I'm the sort of Christian animal for whom celebration is the most important thing of all…When I go to church, what doesn't particularly interest me is the Creed, although I find that I can say it... What I respond to is, ‘Lift up your hearts!’ It's lines like that in the Mass that belong to me, belong to my kind of religious experience." 

Wilbur recognizes how every time we celebrate the Eucharist in the Episcopal Church, we are reminded of the joy God inspires.

Wilbur has called poetry “a balancing act in which one trie[s] to enlist all of one's voices in the rendering of an inclusive view.”  At its best, the Episcopal Church embodies a similar poetry, even during our fiercest times of debate and conflict.  So thank you, Richard Wilbur, for reminding us through your verse that, “whatsoever love elects to bless/ Brims to a sweet excess/ That can without depletion overflow.”  We’re rather fond of you!

To read some of Wilbur’s Pulitzer Prize-winning poetry, click here:

www.poemhunter.com/richard-wilbur

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Ashley Denham Busse is a ‘Cradle Episcopalian’ who holds a PhD in English literature from George Washington University and has a love for all things Anglican and literary.  She lives in the Washington, DC area with her husband and their two young daughters, of whom she is also rather fond.

Altar Calls! Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (Feb 2011)

 OK, they’re not the altar calls made famous by Charles Finney and the 19^th century evangelical movement, in which people respond to an invitation to approach the altar and make a new spiritual commitment to Jesus, although for Episcopalians they can be every bit as life-changing.

It’s been said that Episcopalians, and those in other liturgical traditions, have their own kinds of altar calls.  They’re preceded by a Confession, an Absolution, then the receiving of Jesus – both on our lips and in our hearts (and this, literally so, depending on your Eucharistic theology, if you consider how the body absorbs the bread and wine).

The common denominators in both traditions are the yearning to make Christ a bigger part of our lives; the exercise of free will in choosing Jesus; and, of course, the experience of knowing Christ will forgive our sins and grant us reconciliation at the ask.

What is especially nurturing in the Episcopal tradition is the act of doing this not just once in life, but over and over again.  A former Archbishop of Canterbury was once asked if he was saved, and his response was that, ‘he was saved, he was being saved and he would be saved.’  In other words, the life of faith requires continuous attention, the beatific journey suggests we avoid the plateaus and choose Christ at every turn.

In what ways has the Eucharist served as your altar call?  Have you ever felt profoundly changed by Holy Communion?  If you have an uplifting story, feel free to post it on the home page.

The Lectionary! Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (Jan 2011)

It’s a New Year, time for new resolutions, goals, and plans for 2011!  And if you’re like many Christians, you may be embarking on a systematic plan to read through our most important book: the Bible.  But it’s such a long, complex collection of writings, how do we do it justice?  How do we break it down into digestable pieces, and read it alongside other relevant texts so that we might better understand it - and find the inspiration, comfort and truth the Bible so often gives?

Episcopalians, like many Christians, walk through the Bible using Lectionaries.  The Sunday Lectionary is a Bible reading schedule that appoints certain texts for public reading on Sunday mornings – a selection from the Old Testament, Book of Psalms, New Testament, and the Gospels.  It’s arranged in a 3-year cycle, so that people who go to church every Sunday, will have heard the vast majority of every verse in the Bible in those 3 years.  The Episcopal Church uses the Revised Common Lectionary – and so do the majority of Christians in North America, including Roman Catholics, Lutherans, Presbyterians, and many Methodists and Seventh Day Adventists.

Our common reading, then, binds us together with other Christians.  Why not ask another Christian neighbor, or co-worker about what they heard on Sunday – and what their preacher said about it - the Lectionary gives us a reason to share our faith outside of Church.

It also gives a way to wrestle with texts we’d rather avoid.  Many of us have favorite Bible passages – and without a Lectionary it’s easy to keep returning to them – which means we can avoid difficult and more obscure texts – and rob ourselves of the context that’s so important in interpreting God’s Holy Word.

In addition to the Sunday Lectionary, Episcopalians also have a Daily Lectionary – it arranges the Bible into a 2-year, daily reading schedule.  So if one of your New Year’s resolutions is to read more of the Bible – check out page 934 of the Book of Common Prayer.  And if the Lectionary has played an important role in your walk with Christ, why not share your thoughts on the Home Page?

The Book of Common Prayer: Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (Dec 2010)

There are two English language books that stand as preeminent – that tower over the most beloved writings of even our most talented playwrights and poets.  They are the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer.

If the Bible stands unparalleled in its insight into God, the Book of Common Prayer stands unequaled in its insight into how we might worship God.  After all, the Prayer Book can be thought of as the Bible rearranged for worship.

Since Whitsunday of 1549 the Book of Common Prayer has drawn untold believers into deeper relationship with the Almighty, shaping our souls, sculpting our liturgy, and encouraging us to engage in that ongoing and sacred conversation that we all know as prayer.  Its Collects and liturgies are rich with words, phrases, and images from some of the most beloved Bible passages.  Its order and simplicity open our hearts to the grandeur and wonder of God in unparalleled fashion.

However the Book of Common Prayer rather unfortunately, remains one of the Episcopal Church’s best-kept secrets.  Just this week while officiating at a funeral a young man (who was not very fond of the Episcopal Church) refused to read the petitions from the Prayer Book’s Burial Office because he said they were not Scriptural.  I resisted the urge to explain (and box his ears) and instead wondered how I might go about sharing The Prayer Book with the many people I know who are sincere in their love of God and whose spiritual journeys might find nourishment from this inspired book.

After all, one need not be an Episcopalian to use the Prayer Book.  It was God’s gift to us, and has become our gift to the world.  As Christmas approaches, who do we have on our Christmas list who might benefit from a Book of Common Prayer?  How might we share Christ by sharing the Prayer Book?

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As an aside, there’s a new website up that’s designed to briefly outline the Episcopal faith for newcomers and inquirers.  Feel free to visit, set up a link on your parish website, or pass it along.  It’s at www.jesuswasanepiscopalian.org

We Love Saints! Another Reason to Be Rather Fond of the Episcopal Church (Nov 2010)

New Episcopalians are sometimes surprised to discover that Roman Catholics aren't the only Christians who have a high regard for those mighty men and women of God who have preceded us in the faith - people we call saints.

While Episcopalians do not have an official canonization process and are not well known for elaborate veneration, we do have a formal, though modest collection of saints we routinely recognize in public and private worship.  These are devout Christians, ancient and contemporary, who have excited us in our faith journeys and whose witness continues to model exemplary behavior for us.  A newly revised collection of these heroines and heroes of the faith can be found in the book ‘Holy Women, Holy Men’ – and is available here http://tiny.cc/hy7sa

As we may already know, the word 'saint' appears 60 times in the New Testament, and it refers to all followers of Jesus – if we’re believers, we’re saints.  What’s curious about this is that when you and I are called ‘saints’ we often bristle or belittle the term.  Maybe we think we’re not good enough.  Or maybe we don’t want to be good enough.  Years ago basketball star Charles Barkley famously shunned his celebrity status saying, he didn’t want to be a role model.  But, like it or not, NBA stars are role models.  Like it or not, Christians are saints.  We’re people who have been called and have chosen to believe in Jesus, and this affords us a certain place in the eyes of God, and others.

So how can we live up to our status as saints?  Do we have to do anything special?  This is a good excuse, on this All Saints’ Day, to study up on the life of a saint.  Is there a particular saint who’s touched your life?  Why not tell us about it on the home page.

As an aside, there’s a new website up, that’s designed to briefly outline the Episcopal faith for newcomers and inquirers.  Feel free to visit it, set up a link on your parish website, or pass it along to a friend.  It’s at www.jesuswasanepiscopalian.org