Miracles

 (Kateri Tekakwitha, First Nations Saint )

The Bible contains a lot of stories about Jesus performing miracles

All good and fine for the folks of Ancient Palestine, but how about today?

What has happened to miracles?

It's a question that gets posed by quite often, not only by skeptics, and atheists, but also by "true believers"!* (I really can't believe I just used that phrase, but it seems to fit under the circumstances.)


My theory (how's that for mixing science with religion) is that miracles occur far more frequently than any of us realize. The miracle exists with or without attribution. More often than not the miracle simply is not noticed because we are looking for external evidence. All too seldom do we remember to count the internal changes that God manifests within us as miracles. Healing miracles wrought changes within not just the physical body, but also the mind and spirit.

Still, we fail to recognize even the purely physical miracles because we have difficulty tracking the evidence, the chain of events which lead up to the miracle.

Here's a story to illustrate my theory.

The story starts out

 "Jake Finkbonner was so close to death after flesh-eating bacteria infected him through a cut on his lip that his parents had last rites performed and were discussing donating the 5-year-old's tiny organs. " 

It continues on to tell how one person, with amazing faith and perseverance came to his bedside with something of a last ditch intervention. The power of faith in God's desire to see health and wholeness restored to little Jake was the basis of the intervention. After every other effort had been exhausted, one believing community began intercession through a soon to be saint, Kateri, known as Lily of the Mohawks, and a relic of the soon to be saint was brought to the boy where he lay in the hospital, so near to death.


Miracles do occur with far more frequency than we ever acknowledge. In fact, I think miracles are like trees that fall in the woods... their sound is cast with a thunderous bang. But they go unnoticed because no one was near enough to crash site to hear it.

Those miracles may be of many varieties:

• Miracles of the deep wounds from broken relationships becoming places of forgiveness after years of determined resentment. 
• Miracles of rescuers being within reach of an accident, and proper treatment being engaged soon enough to revive the fallen, injured or trapped. 
• Miracles of addictions being overcome through the power of the Holy Spirit.  

Many other too numerous to list can truly be claimed as miracles, and with it thanksgiving and praise to God should ascend to the heights of heaven daily. The most important miracles, for which we rarely stop to give thanks to God, is the very miracle of being loved by God; NO EXCEPTIONS
 -----------

*"True believers" are those persons who deeply profess faith in God, and hold fast to the conviction that salvation comes through belief in Jesus Christ as the Son of God, crucified, died, buried and resurrected. They may be tolerant or not, defensive or not, and from any denomination of the one holy catholic church.

Study peace

Several weeks ago I wrote briefly about being commissioned to serve in my parish as a healing minister.


I have not shared how or why I came to the place where I would be open to accepting such a title, but think it would be helpful for others to "hear" the story of my journey.

The story starts with a clergy convocation in Pendleton, OR while I was serving as Pastor.

The purpose of the convocation was focused upon training for Healthy Boundaries in ministry. More pointedly, the training addressed a case within the Conference Order of Elders which had brought great pain to many. Clergy as well as lay members experienced profound injury. 

The continuing Education was conducted by Faith and Trust Institute. The remainder of the day included a listening session and a closing worship service which included anointing and prayer as well as the consecration of Holy Communion.

The day of listening touched a place deep within me. While I personally had not been a "victim" of the perpetrator which triggered the need for our gathering, I did realize a wounded place within myself that was in need of similar balm. I left the place knowing in a new way, through my own experience, that pastoral ministry must be about bringing healing and comfort just as much as it offers a challenge and charge to transform the world. Healing is the source of transformation, the salvation which all the world so desperately needs.

In the period since that one powerfully charged experience I began a quest for information about healing ministries. At first the quest was very spotty. But as time passed I became more intrigued and insistent to make a connection with an existing organization outside the church. In spite of the strong urging from the Holy Spirit to learn about and develop my own healing ministry, I also found more obstacles, or perhaps I should just call them resting places between each exploration.

As I searched for information I was reminded of a long before whispered response from the Holy Spirit; Study peace.
                                                                 SHALOM 

                                                                                RECONCILIATION
                                                PEACE
 
                                                               WHOLENESS 

HOLINESS AND WELL-BEING 

                  TRANSFORMATION 

                                                                          REJUVENATION

When our interim priest arrived, he and I formed an immediate affinity and mutual concern to explore the topic of the healing ministry of the Church with one eye  focused upon the opportunity to develop a lay pastoral team of healing ministers.


Serving as a healing  minister allows me the profound opportunity to be a source of peace, very much in the tradition of St. Francis.

Each week, as I take my place at the Lady Altar, ready with the blessed oil, I say a prayer of thanks for the congregation which Christ has drawn me to become attached to in ministry. I am blessed through their acceptance of many of my gifts. But none quite so much as when I am able to be in prayer with a brother or sister in Christ.

Study peace.... be at peace...bring peace

A is

A is for August

and Ants all around!

B is for Barbara

hunting them down.

Summers in the desert have always included ant invasions.

I suppose those earthquakes that I sleep through shake things loose just enough to give them entry.

Thinking of earthquakes.... seems that we may have forgotten that Haiti still has large numbers of it's citizens living in make shift emergency type shelters, two and half years after their devastating earthquake. Now, to add insult to their vast injuries, tropical storm Isaac is bearing down on the island nation.

C is for cranes
folded and strung


Last August we began an Origami crane folding project. We collected donations for Haiti's rebuilding efforts through the Episcopal Relief and Development. I taught children and adults about the Japanese folk tradition that when someone folds one thousand cranes, their wish would be granted by a crane. Our folding would become a body prayer, a form of art as prayer. The folded cranes would be a visible sign of the community in prayer for the people of Haiti. The time that it would take to reach the goal of one thousand, a reminder of the long process of rebuilding which our Haitian Brothers and Sisters would have to endure. 

The goal of folding 1000 Cranes, as prayers of peace for the people of Haiti was completed in April, just after Easter...

But there is not yet a great arising from the devastation, no Communal Resurrection yet for Haiti.

Most reliable sources say that it will likely take ten years to rebuild the country, perhaps longer..if ever.

C is for cranes
folded and strung
D is for one Thousand DONE.

E is for eternity
the time it takes to rebuild a nation.

F ..feeling forgotten
G is for God
H is poor Haiti
which calls up to the heavens
WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!?!

I is for Isaac
Horrible Hurricane barreling down.

Unfortunate nation. Why must mother nature hit you while you're still down?
 
The People of Haiti are still struggling along.

Our attention has drifted away to other projects; Nets for Life to eradicate malaria.

I worry about ants invading my kitchen.

The people of Haiti, barely aware of the brutal force heading their way, make due day by day without permanent housing, running water, and still carry with them the grief of loosing family, friends, and livelihood.

J is for Jesus
Sent from the Father

King of Kings
Lord of Lords
Merciful savior
Near to us through others
Open our hearts to be servants
People of love
Quick to respond
Reacting with kindness, compassion and love .
Send us your Spirit
Topple our grasping

Unite us in service
Victorious Christus
Warm our cooling passions

What if

What if
have you ever played this game?
The game of imagining
what life would be like
under a different set of circumstances.

The game starts
with some essential
recognition of the
difference between your own
life and some one else's.

A diagnosis...
An uncurable condition..
Treatment to provide comfort
but never a hope of reversal of the condition.

What if I were to learn that I was soon
to become a soul
trapped within a body
with no way to communicate?

Could I continue on living a life of  faithfulness?

Dependent.

Completely dependent

Unable to walk
incapable of talking
yet fully conscious of
all that surrounds me.

Never again to pick up a book in my own hands.

Lord,
Thank you for bodily life
and your presence to
comfort, challenge and inspire.

Free Time

I can remember people telling me I needed to get a life.

The people who told me that always seemed to have plenty of "free" time.

I don't have a job, I have a vocation. I have abundant masses of meaningful ways to connect with people which require scheduling my time to fit their schedules.

Writing, reading, and
bringing people together
for major projects require patience.

A man I am just beginning to know 

in the course of my work 

exploring the possibility 

of starting a community garden 

tells people that gardening teaches patience and humility. 

I wonder, 

do you suppose 

that is why Jesus 

so frequently used 

parables with 

agriculture 

built into them?

Now that I have been commissioned as a healing prayer minister for our parish I am discovering that maintaining spiritual disciplines is all the more important, and realizing a certain sloppiness in my practice

Patience to sit in God's presence is imperative; not an option, not something merely done occasionally. 

No, it must be pursued with persistence, not relegated to the chance occurrence of Free Time.        

Healing Minister

Jehovah Rapha... God who heals

Two and a half years ago I attended a weekend Healing Mission conducted by the Order of St. Luke the Physician.
 
That weekend I committed to engage in a study of the stories of Jesus' healing ministry in the Gospels. The scriptures are full of stories of God's reconciling and restoring work during Jesus' life. What about today?

That weekend in January was one of many places along a five year journey to understand the healing ministry in the Church. It has been a fitful journey, with starts and abrupt stops many times along the way. I signed up as an associate member of the Order of St. Luke but could not make a viable connection.
The obstacles seemed as much directed by the Spirit as anything could. I continued my studies independently, attending many different events named as healing services and classes.

I've always felt a part of my call was to peacemaking, one that included facilitating reconciliation and peace, but struggled relentlessly to find a genuine expression of that call, especially a sacramental expression, something that could be experienced within the context of worship. 

How could I integrate healing into my ministry? Intention to offer oneself as an intercessor for healing ministry is an awesome and scary step. Would I have to be a wild eyed crazy person, like the movie character played by Chevy Chase or those television evangelists? If that's what it would require, there's no way I would submit myself to that type of calling or ministry..no wild eyed evangelist for me!

During Lent in 2011 I had the privilege of framing the question  within a five week course which I taught collaboratively with our Interim Priest, Fr. Paul Price. This course opened up to me the rich tradition the Episcopal Church maintains as a leader in integrating healing ritual into the liturgy.

What I discovered is that Anglicans have been offering a dignified ministry of anointing and healing prayer within worship, at special services, and in pastoral care settings following in the tradition of the early church.

And since collaborating on that course we have offered a weekly healing service with Holy Eucharist. participating in the service offering intercessory prayer and joining in the laying on of hands has been one of the most precious places of ministry during the past year.

This month I asked God, how was I supposed to be faithful to the call that was placed on my heart, and one of the answers was "deepen your healing ministry."

But Lord, do I have enough faith?

The Spirit whispered..."I have given you sufficient faith. Go, be true to the call...you are a minister of healing in my name."

Dry Bones Waiting

To look out the window and read this weeks’ text one might think that God has decided to extend a greater sign of God’s presence among us. If Only….

If only it warmed the body and spirit instead of piercing and shivering us with unsatisfactory cold.

It’s a cold that disturbs and troubles, that disappoints and discourages, leaving my usual inner sense of joy and wonder feeling all the more battered and disabled.

Now more than ever I find myself calling upon the Great I Am to bring restoration and healing to my battered soul. The season of waiting has grown endlessly long, for the limited measure of patience God implanted within my heart. 

 And yet

There is the hope of tomorrow

The red flames and tongues of Pentecost 

Dry Bones rattling and winds restoring life in the community. 

That alone is hope enough to take into the night.

The call will appear clearer, brighter,  after the Spirit of God, blows through our hearts once again.

"Come, thou Holy Spirit bright, 

come with thy celestial light;

come protector of the poor, 

come thou source of blessings sure; 

come within our hearts to shine" 

Latin 12th Century

The 1982 Hymnal, 226

True Source

I’ve been in a conversation with someone through Facebook about dreams and revelations recently. Her question, why don’t we just credit the good message, to a good deceased ancestor? Why do we say it is God that gave the good message?

That’s a fair question, and one that deserves a good story.

There is a woman who has a son.

As a child each year he would give her a gift, some expression of love and appreciation for her, because she was his mother. As time passed the son matured, and moved out on his own. He lives far away from his mother, so it is harder for him to deliver the gift to his mother in person, but his love remains and the tradition continues.

Now the son goes to his computer and orders flowers, and gives instructions to have them delivered to his mother.

The florist receives the instructions from the son and prepares the bouquet. Now the florist also needs to prepare many bouquets for many other mothers to be delivered on time. The florist employs the services of a delivery company.

When the delivery is made to the mother, she is surprised and delighted by the beauty of the bouquet and the thoughtfulness of someone. She tells the delivery person “thank you.” Has she thanked the person who gave her the gift? No, she has only thanked a servant, a hired hand.

She brings the bouquet into her home and looks for a card that will tell her who has sent the bouquet.

The name of the florist is listed on the envelope,

but the card inside contains a message from her son.

If she calls the florist to say thanks, just as she did to the delivery person, the true gift giver still has not been properly acknowledged.

To properly acknowledge the gift she must call or write her son, to express her thanks, and appreciation for the gift.  When she tells others about what she has received, she will tell her friends that her son sent the gift, not that the florist gave her the flowers.

For her to thank only the florist and the deliverer is to fail to acknowledge the initial giver of the gift.

This principle applies to spiritual matters as well as material things.

Speaking only for myself, I can explain why I would acknowledge a dream or revelation as something as coming from God, rather than my good aunt Barb, or some other deceased relative.

It boils down to what I profess to believe.

The Nicene Creed is the summation of the Faith within the Anglican Communion. The first Statement is

“WE believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.” 

The question is to whom shall we properly attribute the source of revelations, and dreams. Scripture tells us that dreams and revelations are one of the ways in which God has spoken through the ages to humanity.

For a Christian, it boils down to acknowledging the true source of all good things. Some refer to this as “giving glory to God”, or “glorifying God”

Consider perhaps how many have understood a very famous “revelation” in the United States spoke of by Martin Luther King, just before his assassination. “I have been to the mountaintop….Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.” In his speech he also referred to his more famous speech delivered several years later, “I Have a Dream.”

Martin Luther King spoke of his conviction of God’s desire for all humanity and repeated a single phrase, “I have a dream,” with many amplifications. Now, as I see it, within the Christian tradition of the U.S. I believe we hear his message, as a form of revelation that reaffirms a scriptural tradition which is found in the book of Acts, even more than just a dream rooted in “the American Dream”.  

So the question remains for you to answer.

When you have significant dreams, who you think deserves the praise?

The challenge of everyday faithful living in the Christian community is to keep our focus on our purpose, our calling in God.  Do we remember to thank the true source?

This hymn sums it up pretty well for me.

To God with gladness sing, your Rock and Savior bless;

into his temple bring your songs of thankfulness!

O God of might, to you we sing,

enthroned as King on heaven’s height!

He cradles in his hand the heights and depths of earth;

he made the sea and land, he brought the world to birth!

O God Most High, we are your sheep;

on us you keep your shepherds eye!

Your heavenly Father praise, acclaim his only Son,

your voice in homage raise to him who makes all one!

O Dove of Peace, on us descend

that strife may end and joy increase!

James Quinn (Hymnal 1982 #399)

Where the Spirit deposits

Who knows where the Spirit is leading and whom you will touch?

Last Sunday morning the reading from the Book of Acts (8:26-40) was the story of Philip and the work of the Holy Spirit. It is the story of the conversion of the Ethiopian Eunuch. In this story we are told that Philip drops in and drops out of the life of this court official. While he is with this God-fearer, Philip explains the message of text that he has been reading in Isaiah, and how the fulfillment was found in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. One more is added to the contingent of believers in Jesus Christ, as the Eunuch asks to be baptized, and Phillip responds without hesitation. “And when they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away.” Wow, now that is blowing in the wind!

It’s a great story, for many reasons, most of which I will entirely ignore today. Bishop Mary Ann Glasspool used it as the basis for her sermon at the Bloy House Graduation on Saturday. It was tough to resist using the message I had just heard the day before as I prepared to preach on Sunday, but I did. (I stuck with the Gospel of John and the image of the vine being the church, and the organic nature of this passage, and my own theological view of pruning not as judgement, just the cycle of life). So, while I was working in my garden, trimming and tending to the roses I was thinking about the truth contained in the text from Acts as a message for me.

Here I am, seeking to be faithful, to serve God as best I can. There are days when I think perhaps I’m seeking something beyond my reach; a fool of sorts. At times, I feel blown around and confused by what I experience as the direction of the Holy Spirit. Am I being faithful and am I discerning clearly? Why am I here now? What lies ahead? Is this how Philip felt when “an Angel of the Lord” instructed him to “get up and go”?

But every so often the Spirit shouts at me; “it’s not just about you!”

Yesterday I recalled the many changes that have occurred in the lives of both Tim, and I. The journey we have traveled thus far has been filled with many places of grace and healing presence. While I continue to think in terms of my calling being the reasons for our itineration to Idaho, for me to assume the authority and responsibility of a ministry as pastor once I completed my M.Div., so much more occurred during that time in Idaho.

While I was fully occupied with the care of the congregation and ministry in the community, Tim had the opportunity to explore a new vocation* as well, in the healing ministry of being a first responder. Rural communities throughout the nation depend almost entirely upon the willingness of neighbors to become equipped and serve, responding to emergencies without pay.**

Since returning to California he has continued to take work as an EMT. Yesterday, I began to recall some of the stories he has told me about calls to which he has responded. I began to realize that the Holy Spirit has been using my calling as a way to draw Tim into his own healing ministry.

Many of the calls he has dealt with have just been usual race track incidents. But then there have been cases where having an EMT present really was a matter of life preserving significance.

He also has stories of responding to accidents where the ending remains a mystery to us. On a ride home after work, when a collision occurred, the driver sitting with the forklift pressed against the throat was in danger of bleeding out waiting for the local EMS to arrive on scene. Remaining calm, assessing the situation and applying pressure made the difference between certain death and possible recovery. 

What neither of us know is what will become of each of the people that are still alive because Tim was equipped, and ready to respond to their emergency. How will God move in each of their lives because Tim was there for just the right period of time and then sent off to another place. This is the mystery we need to embrace as we continue to discern to what place and for what purpose we will go next, and for how long we are to stay in any place.

Every now and then it is helpful to sit under a rose bush and stare into the tangled form to clear out the overgrowth and deadheads. You never know what the Spirit will suggest to you as you work away at the task.

One thing is clear to me, God doesn’t make it easy. And frankly, I think that’s not playing fair. At least Philip had “an Angel of the Lord” telling him what to do, and provided the transportation at the end of the mission too. I could use an encounter with one of your Angels, Lord. 

I promise, I’ll pay proper attention if you do send one, if you make it clear that this is your messenger.

Would you send one to us soon? Picture id included?!

* He has maintained his insurance license in the state of California and, while in Idaho also held current Insurance License in that state as well. 

** There is great inequity throughout the nation’s medical care when the system relies upon volunteers, rather than providing employment. Young people needing to support themselves are drawn away to larger metropolitan areas so that they can earn a living fulfilling their calling because the economies of smaller communities cannot bare the burden.

Graduation Anglican Studies

White and Black

White Albs

Crucifer

 Acolytes bearing torches, 

Gospel Bearer 

Dean

Mitered Minister of the Word 

Black gowns 

Processing down 

Two by Two 

Faculty Students 

Newly minted Theologians, 

 Retread Ministers of the Word 

Ranked and filed 

Certified competent and proficient, 

Diligent in persevering 

To complete the course 

Graduation ceremonies 

A good and joyful thing 

Graduation ceremonies are indeed a good and joyful occasion!

 They mark the completion and hold within them the hope of the future not yet revealed.

 In their wake, graduation ceremonies allow space to breath deeply, some time to ruminate in the sense of satisfaction, and the sense of freedom.

Freedom to;
 Sit without any nagging inner voice, reminding of the volumes of yet unread pages.

Guiltlessly watch any television show, not just the nightly evening news.

Sit in the sun, doing nothing more than revel in the beauty of God’s creation.

Freedom to sit under the rose bush, gardening gloves on, and pruning shears in hand, to clear away the deadwood and deadheads for a new season of blooming.

Freedom for the Spirit to work within the graduate’s heart and mind when the end of studies fails to bring the brass ring close enough to reach.

Just for this week,
Do not ask me about what’s next.
Let me savor the completion, the future will unfold in its proper time.
Let me be a child of the universe, enfolded in the arms of the Holy One.

Great Triduum

Tonight is the beginning of the Great Triduum; three solemn days of remembrance before the great Resurrection Celebration. In these three days, which for me become ever more dear with the passing of each year, we reflect on the final days of Jesus’ ministry on earth.

In the Gospel of John, following the triumphal entry into Jerusalem when the Greeks came to Phillip and Andrew saying they wanted to see Jesus we begin to see Jesus shut down his public ministry. The response to the request which was related to Jesus by Andrew and Phillip sidesteps the request. Jesus begins talking about his “hour”. He talks about the need for death and uses a grain of wheat as his example. The Greeks, on that day, were apparently left with an unsatisfied longing, an unfulfilled yearning to see Jesus. Somewhat oddly the way the lectionary is currently set up, this passage was assigned to the fifth week of Lent, pulled out of the chronology and placed before us to reflect upon those who still long to see Jesus. It provides a call to faithful discipleship for the church in this hour. After preaching on this text John 12:20-33, two weeks ago I presented a challenge to each and all, self included, for us to pray about where we were being called to become broken open, like the grain of wheat Jesus taught about, to bear fruit.

During the Paschal Triduum we are brought to table, the garden, the trial, the cross, and the tomb. We encounter the sinfulness of humanity as well as the heroism. The love and devotion as well as the betrayal which comes from being weak and human are played out for self examination and meditation on the life of the one we claim to be the source of our salvation.

Do you wonder, as I do, how much Jesus “knew” and how much Jesus “intuited” of the coming end to his human life? Did God reveal to him, as centuries later Martin Luther King related his mountain top experience? Was it “just a feeling” that had to be followed, as we so often chart courses for our lives? Did Jesus really and truly remember what he left behind when he “emptied himself of divinity” to become incarnate?

Does it matter to you in your journey of faith as it seems to matter for mine?

The incarnation is interpreted in many ways. Some hold such high Christological formulas that it seems that Jesus never really did suffer. That heterodoxy diminishes the ability for me to find comfort from Jesus, as Great High Priest. Jesus as the pattern and perfecter of our salvation must have had to deal with temptation, but demonstrated the power of the Almighty Father-Mother accessible to all humanity, even you, even me. This is the Jesus I need to encounter in Scripture in order to place my whole faith and trust in the Triune God. .

I favor a view of Jesus growing in wisdom and understanding as a human, gifted with intuition and empowered with a spiritual discipline to grow in grace and love to follow the inspiration of God through the presence of the Holy Spirit in his life. With that I can imagine his wrestling with the decisions of each day, in the same way that I must toss and turn options and speculate upon the results of my actions.
Unlike me, Jesus was so perfectly connected to the Divine Source of all life that each decision served to fulfill the Divine Intentions for all humanity. And yet, El Shaddai withheld the use of any coercion upon Jesus.

It is conceivable that Jesus would have never even sat upon the colt which had never before ridden. Jesus could have chosen obscurity, anonymity and lived a very long life in human form.

But he didn’t and the rest, as they say is history.

In the end he gathered his disciples together and remembered the Saving Acts of God for the children of Abraham and Sarah. He offered a new interpretation for the meal that they shared together that night to provide the way to continue his presence among them, after the fleshy temple was destroyed.

He enacted a parable of servanthood in the washing of his disciples’ feet. He taught them that servants are never greater than their masters.

Then he called them his friends. Thick or thin, good times and bad, they were his friends for whom he prayed and beseeched the Father to grant power to go forth in his name.

This is where the Greeks come in. Only through those who would later receive and use the power gifted to them would the Greeks come to see Jesus. Through the mystery of the community which would repeatedly share the meal in remembrance of Jesus’ death and resurrection until he comes again in Glory, the Greeks and Romans, Celts, Galations, (the list goes on) came to see Jesus, to see and be set free.

Tonight we gather to retell the story and experience the presence of God amongst us. It is a night for reflection upon our own discipleship. Have we picked up the cross, been able to drink the cup, wash the feet, feed the hungry, heal the sick, release prisoners from their peculiar bondages? Have we looked upon all around us and seen the face of God in each person? Have we gone to the places that Jesus would have us go? Have we denied the Lord Jesus?

Tonight is a night to watch and wait with Jesus, either in community through the vigil which follows in the sanctuary with the Blessed Sacrament or in private meditation. For me this will be a solemn time of prayer and reflection upon my ministry and the next turn in my journey.

One month from today, May 5, 2012, I will, by the grace of God, have completed the work and will be presented a certificate that acknowledges my completion of the course Anglican Studies at Bloy House. Beyond that accomplishment, there is a significant amount of uncertainty.

I have colleagues from other places that are preparing to depart for Thailand, and changing posts from Mozambique to parts unknown. A call to church planting begins to resonate with me, though not to a distant place. I have been led back to this place to learn and to grow as well as serve. All around I see signs that I am in a field where the harvest is still plentiful but laborers few. My own calling is a mission to proclaim, to witness, to serve, to teach, to equip, to bring healing and reconciliation through word and sacrament and they await me, though only the Divine Author of all Creation knows the location. I feel it may be very near to where I already am. I know not for sure and wait upon the blowing of the Holy Spirit to direct my path.

Ancestors

Last night was the season premiere of "Who do you think you are?"

Do you ever wonder what it is that drew you into your vocation? What was it that first captured your interest in the work that you do? Was it something in your DNA or just the exposure to something as you were growing up that captured your interest in the work that brings you fulfillment as well as provides your livelihood?

Honestly, I know, it may seem odd to imagine but I do think there is something that we pick up from our ancestors, whether we know their history or not, that has a positive effect on our own lives.

I first was struck with this thought when I learned about my great grandmother Bulachier. She came to North America through the port of Galveston from her homeland of Alsace Lorraine.

But before I learned about her, I had some internal attraction to the French Language. It didn’t matter that living in Texas and growing up in California, I would have been able to put Spanish to use immediately. Something within me insisted that I should learn French.

I did well in the language and for a time thought that I would become an interpreter and travel guide.

But then I fell in love…and got married….and decided that wasn’t a realistic career goal for me.

I worked many jobs, from theatres to retail stores to banking. Then we decided we were ready to start a family, and I became a mother.

And time went on, and I found God working in my life in mysterious ways.

Along the way, I had fallen so deeply in love with Jesus that everything I did began to be viewed through my understanding of my faith and God’s call on my life.

When I finally returned to college to finish my degree I thought I was being called to the profession of law, and so I studied political science as preparation.

But by the time I finished my degree we had also added to the family. And that was a good thing. But I also felt something stir inside me that said law school was not the path I should take. Instead the spirit seemed to press upon me to work in the community and Church at least for the time being.

And as time went along that was very satisfying, until a time when it was not. What I felt stirring in me was the call to return to school, to seminary and the call to ordained ministry.

When I finally trusted that this was a movement of the Holy Spirit and trusted God the way opened for me. And I did well enough to complete the studies and then was called to serve in Idaho. But regardless of how well I did, I somehow didn’t quite fit the denominational mold for where I had followed the call. The resistance that we felt toward each other, the United Methodist Church and I, became so strong that I felt that I had come to the end of the relationship. Not my relationship with Christ. Not my commitment to the Church. It was just my relationship with a particular polity that had reached a conclusion.

In the previous two years I had been introduced to the Church of England and reaffirmed my roots within the Episcopal Church.

During all this time, I knew that back in my mother’s family, following back into my grandfather’s ancestors, there was a three times great grandfather who was listed as Rev. Wright. There weren’t any stories passed down. Just a note on the genealogical charts that said Rev. Thomas Wright was ordained by the Rt. Rev. Ravenscroft. And I didn’t really think a lot about that. It was an interesting fact. Period. I didn’t even know what denomination he was, until I came across a reference to Bishop Ravenscroft in a History book on the Episcopal Church, a couple of years ago.

Now, in all my childhood the only thing I knew about my biological father, was that he had grown up in New York, he was a printer, and died young. I never met his family.

That sort of explains my fascination with words and writing, and computer generated
publicity activities. My mother was a journalist, and my father a printer.

Recently though, my brother and I began doing some more ancestry work.

I didn’t expect to learn much. Did it really matter at this late stage in my life? I didn’t expect to recover a lost fortune, and by now every one of the relatives would probably be dead. But it was an interesting question to pursue. At least I could tell my children and grandchildren something more concrete than what I already knew.

Well, I learned that my paternal grandfather was an undertaker.

Hmm… working with people at the end of life, and officiating memorials and graveside services have been among the most sacred acts of ministry I performed while serving as pastor.

But, then, when I was finally able to trace my father’s family back further I was to discover yet another ancestral depository of church leadership.

The lineage led all the way back to Colonial America and England. It led straight back into the history of the controversies of the dissenting church. I learned that my father’s ancestors descended from the “Mather Dynasty” which started with the Rev Richard Mather.

Who would have imagined?

When I began looking into my family history, finally identifying the ancestors of my father, I never in my wildest imagination could have come up with the thought that I would uncover such rich religious roots.

It was amazing enough to learn about my three times Great Grandfather, a respected Episcopal Missionary Priest. And then we learned that his Uncle was Rt. Rev. William Mercer Green, the first Bishop to Mississippi.

But then to trace back to one of the key dissenting church leaders was simply a bit too much for me to just think it up.

No wonder my theological positions confuse ecclesiastical examiners. Catholic, and Congregationalist, Episcopal and Unitarian; lay and ordained all saints above are part of my spiritual DNA.

If what Richard Piper wrote about his 90 minutes in heaven, I have so many saints watching and guiding, waiting to welcome me when I finally do enter into the glory of heaven.

Until then, I carry forward the message of the faith which has been handed down generation to generation, although sometimes imperfectly, but nevertheless to the glory of God.

SO, with a tip of the hat to Ancestry.com, “Who do you think you are?”


I am a child of God. Called to be a priest.

Disciplined walking

It was cold and windy last night!

When I went to bed I remember thinking “I don’t want to go walking in that cold wind.”

I even thought that it was going to snow overnight, it felt so cold when I came home in the dark evening.

So, this morning, when I awoke, the thought of rebellion came up to the surface again.

While I love the routine of walking early in the morning, this was one of those mornings where I really wasn’t eager, enthusiastic or delighted with the prospect of stepping out into the cold morning.

Instead, I put it off, and went to check email…

And facebook….

And search the web for ideas for a paper…

And read an article about Rabbi Abraham Herschel and Martin Luther King which told about their roles together working in the civil rights movement and Vietnam War opposition of the 1960s.

Finally, something Abraham Heschel* wrote began to ignite my motivation to get up and walk.

Heschel wrote of his participation in the civil rights marches, “my legs were praying.”

Thanks God, that was the kick I needed.

Morning walks are my time of Morning Prayer. I step out the door and collect my thoughts, recalling the people my life touches that are in need of prayer. Psalm 100 is my opening verse. Holy, Holy, Holy is frequently on my lips. I dispense with the prayer book, and rely on the words of songs, prayers and scripture which have become deeply embedded to rise up as I appreciate the beauty of my surroundings.

This morning, the prayers included people that now have difficulty, due to their health, to enjoy the simple pleasure of walking. I confessed my own reluctance to face this morning’s wind and cold and offered thanks for the extra layers of clothes I could put on to keep me from shivering.

Morning walking is an important component in my spiritual life. It is both physical and spiritual care. When my schedule limits my ability to maintain this discipline, I feel deprived. I can understand why the Gospels tell us that Jesus went off alone because my soul, my very being also requires this active time of prayer.

In this season of epiphany, we are all invited to look for God manifest around us. How are you experiencing God’s presence, and how do you replenish your spiritual well?

Do you need a partner to help you find time for discerning God’s presence in your life?

May you be blessed to discover that this month is filled with opportunity and delight in God’s ever expanding presence in the world.

* January 13 is the anniversary of the death of Rabbi Heschel. Rabbi Waschow explains that in Judaism the tradition of remembering the departed is done on the anniversary of the death, rather than the birthday because “only at one’s death do we know the entirety of the person.” Anglicans also use the date of one’s death to remember our saints, which is why Martin Luther King is in our cycle of Holy Women, Holy Men on April 4th.