The Reverend Philip W. Dougharty is Rector of St. John's-Grace Episcopal Church. Here you can read some of his thoughts on theology, spirituality, community and church.
March 2008
Joseph Campbell's famous book The Power of Myth, written at least twenty years ago, raised the possibility that "myth" or "mythology" in its richest sense holds a power that requires more of us than other types of literature might. Since first discovering Campbell I have pursued this idea; in fact I wrote my master’s thesis, "Re-Membering the Body of Christ," on metaphorical language that expresses, simply, the inexpressible. I always cringe when I hear someone refer to something as "only a myth" or "just a myth," meaning "something made up, untrue or not worthy of regard." I think of fables as fictional stories created for the purpose of teaching some kind of moral, but not myths. Myths are stories -- factual or not -- that describe who we are, how we got here, and offer possibilities for the future. They require a response from us.
A familiar example of mythology for the Christian is the set of "children’s" books, The Chronicles of Narnia, by C. S. Lewis. We read it and recognize archetypes of Christian thought articulated circumspectly, but with power. In the first book, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver want to introduce the children to Aslan, the great lion, and the children are understandably anxious. "'Then he isn’t safe?' said Lucy. 'Safe?' said Mr. Beaver…. 'Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good.'" As adults reading that – those who have found our walk with Jesus to be not safe, but good -- we register a profound recognition of what is being said in this mythological account.
What seems to be true in reading mythology is that we are more prone to recognize the mythological power in stories other than our own sacred writings. Somehow we have attached a literalism to our own Holy Scriptures that suggests that mythological readings of them are somehow disrespectful, if not blasphemous. Many of the internet "forwards" that we receive are stories of kindness or generosity and we respond to them with a deeply felt "Yes!" because they reach something deep inside us that we do not allow from our own sacred writings. Our tendency to make Bible stories historically or scientifically true often allow us to overlook deeper Truth that lies in the text on a metaphorical level.
The Gospel texts for Lent are all opportunities for us to either take the easy way -– "these are literal events that prove that Jesus was God," demanding no further response than for us to believe that premise – or to see the events in the experience and ministry of Jesus as signposts to something beyond what is actually reported, something that demands a response from us. From the temptations in the wilderness right through to the raising of Lazarus – even the mythological power of the Passion itself! - we are given the opportunity for "aha" moments that see beyond the obvious to look into the larger world and work of God for our times. Seen as myths whose symbolic language draws us deeper into the heart of the Gospel, the Scriptures come alive with possibilities for us and for our communities. Preaching, at its best, is an Event that cracks open the purest sense of mythology in the Scriptures, allowing God's grace and power to rush into our lives in transforming ways, drilling us deeper into the heart of God's plan for creation – particularly in the experience of God's own image, Humanity.
February 2008
“It is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” attr. St. Francis of Assisi
I have known people who completely rearranged their lives to care for a loved one who needed special care of some kind. They made special changes in their living arrangements, career, and daily schedule for the specific purpose of caring for someone else. In one case, a person that I know made all of these changes, including moving to a different city, for a total stranger! What is often said regarding this kind of sacrifice (making sacred!) is that the giver is generally the recipient of the blessing – more than the one receiving the care.
I write this as an introduction to a response to the most asked question I receive regarding Lent: What shall I give up? Matthew Fox suggests that Christianity’s embrace of asceticism – a sort of “beating up” of ourselves in search of holiness – was an attempt to rein in passions and desires, which often allows for abuse of power by those in (religious) authority. This is exactly what Jesus objected to in the practices of the pharisees : “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to move them.” (Matt. 23:4). Fox’s idea of via negativa, as described in his book Original Blessing, rather suggests a more organic, dynamic sense of “letting go” that produces new life. It is this “dying to rise” approach to life that, I believe, truly reflects the season of Lent, and, in the spiral of our journeys, deepens our experience with God, with others, and with this human existence generally.
In January we explored, to some extent, the idea of “discipleship” – of figuring out what it is to follow Jesus – and to do it. We began with the experience of baptism, our taking and renewing of a covenant that includes faithfulness to the community of faith, the sharing of our faith experience, the active respecting of all human persons and the recognition of Christ in each of them, and the commitment to work for justice and peace for all of God’s Creation. It is this commitment that leads us to “give up” anything that keeps us from pursuing the goals of the Baptismal Covenant. That Covenant should be the beginning point for how we observe Lent. It may mean letting go of attitudes of superiority or vengeance; perhaps it will call us to true grief over a broken relationship or humanity’s abuse of other people, of the Earth and all of God’s Creation. True “giving up for Lent” should involve some letting go for the purpose of experiencing true Resurrection. In what way will grief over some human brokenness result in the healing of that situation? That is the question to ask in determining what to give up. Is it possible to enter so fully into this type of repentance, to relinquish our own pride or dignity, our own “rightness” in order to experience real pain and grief that leads to transformation of ourselves and our surroundings? The Confession of Sin in our worship should be a call to such an experience, so that the Absolution is a sign of real healing of the brokenness of Creation.
As we approach Lent yet again this year, spiraling deeper or higher into our relationship with God, let us keep in mind the possibilities that “it is in giving that we receive, in pardoning that we are pardoned, in dying that we are raised.” I invite you into a Holy (wholly) Lent.
January 2008
In this short season between Epiphany and Lent – particularly short this year, as Lent and Easter are very early – we experience some pivotal events in Jesus’ life and ministry that have serious implications for our own walk with Jesus. This year the Feast of Epiphany, the Manifestation of Jesus’ meaning and ministry to the world, falls on Sunday, January 6, giving us an opportunity to celebrate the coming of the Wise Men who traveled from outside the provincial world of Israel to see this new expression of God that had come among humans.
In the following four weeks we follow the course of Jesus’ ministry. There is a particularly telling statement (from God!) that occurs at Jesus’ baptism and again in his experience on the Mount of Transfiguration, the events that frame this season, that gives us a hint as to what we are about: “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well-pleased.” The revelation on the mountaintop adds the admonition, “Listen to him!” Between these two events we follow Jesus as he calls those who become his disciples. Who knows – maybe we will be among those that he calls to teach on an ongoing basis – the ones to whom the admonition, “Listen to him!” will apply most.
This is a season of responding to a call to follow Jesus, to be among those chosen as disciples – a difficult response to make, since we know that he is about to embark on the journey to Jerusalem and the Cross early in February this year. As we have come to realize in past years, it is a call not to be taken lightly because it demands that we sort carefully through our priorities, sometimes being asked to leave the dearest of those relationships and securities behind as we strike out on our own roads to Jerusalem. Why would we do such a thing? We have been taught to seek happiness and comfort at any price! Why would we deliberately choose a life path that embraces uncertainty and loss? Perhaps those questions and others can be partially answered as we enter the “journey inward” as symbolized by the labyrinth. More about that later, as we enter the journey to Jerusalem. In the meantime, the month of January invites us to acknowledge the call of Jesus to be disciples, to respond to the call, and to look with faith into the future of our relationship with this subversive rabbi.
In the Gospel text for January 20 Jesus says to some “looky-lou’s” “What are you looking for?” “Where are you staying?” inquire the aspirants. “Come and see,” says Jesus. Our website quotes this as being the question and response asked by those interested in St. John’s-Grace, perhaps. It is the initial, hesitant response to a call to follow.
I have often used this quote from Albert Schweitzer’s inquiry into the historic Jesus to describe the answer to call: “He comes to us as One unknown, without a name, as of old, by the lakeside, he came to those who knew him not. He speaks to us the same word: ‘Follow me!’ and sets us to the tasks which he has to fulfill for our time. He commands. And to those who obey Him, whether they be wise or simple, He will reveal Himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in His fellowship, and, as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience Who He is.” That is the invitation of January ’08, and the short season following Epiphany. We respond, as always, in a spiraling depth different from our answers in previous years.
November 2007
As we move into the “harvest” season of the year, I offer a few more observations from my gardening experience that has meant so much to me since about May of this year. You recall that I was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty that my small efforts produced – the result of the plants of my choice simply BEING as beautiful and extravagant as they are naturally. My appreciation of my simple plot of dirt has deepened as our relationship has moved through the season of growth, blossoming, few disappointments, and even drastic changes.
As I write this, on October 22, everything is still in bloom! This quirky autumn that we are experiencing has encouraged everything to keep working after the time I had expected to see anything out there. Even this morning’s showers are sort of warm, and will, I am sure, result in an explosion of color in the next day or two. We are at a time when I expect any day to walk out and find the whole plot blanketed in snow. In the meantime I sit out and drink coffee every morning in the dark, letting my eyes adjust so that I can see each plant still being itself.
One plant, from the only seeds I sowed, was really late in coming up. It is a Morning Glory; I planted a whole package and only one showed. It was pretty fast in making its way up the trellis, but it was all green until very late – blooming, in fact, while I was away at my mom’s in late September. It has taken over the fence that separates my space from my neighbor’s. He, fortunately, likes the plant and is glad that it is so healthy. I said to him in about August, “I think that this is not going to bloom this year; we’ll have to wait until next year.” Now as we near November we are both enjoying this “late bloomer.”
I had plants scattered about the patio all summer, enjoying the variety of colors and textures in various places, but lately decided to combine them all into one space. I had read an article about planting that suggested that each planting space needed three “styles” of plants: “thrillers,” “fillers,” and “spillers,” each supplying to the garden a needed visual focal point. In the past couple of weeks I have transplanted some fairly substantial plants into a relatively smaller space. I was worried that such a dramatic change would hinder their growth – even lead to their decline, the possibility that I might lose some of my favorite varieties. What I found, though, is that the change made them stronger – they actually took on a whole new stage of growth and productivity as a result of moving them to a new place!
I know that winter is coming; I don’t look forward to seeing my little plot of dirt covered in snow, but I knew it would happen back in May when I planted to begin with. I am sort of anxious, though, to see if anything survives to be resurrected in the spring. I am already preparing myself for big changes to appear when the warm weather returns in 2008.
It is interesting how people assign human characteristics to animals that “keep them” as pets. I have found myself doing the same with the plants that have allowed me to share space with them this season. As with pets, a garden allows for reflections into the nature of life, opening new perspectives, calming the spirit, and even solving problems at times. At this point the most profound reflection that I am experiencing regarding my little garden is the fact that, despite change and uncertainty, it is ALIVE! Its little roots are hard at work all the time nourishing, growing – and every once in a while it shows me how clever it is, and brings me joy.
Let the one with ears, hear.
October 2007
September seems like a resurrection season with people back from summer vacations. Our education programs are back in swing. (As I said one Sunday, our education programs are substantial, though low-profile). There is a new energy that I have grown to look forward to when school starts again. The Food Fair is right around the corner. People are talking about what they are preparing and how – the place is coming to life again!
Don't get me wrong: I really enjoy the slow pace of the summer. More people take advantage of the early service so that they can get out on the lake for the rest of the day or spend the day together with family. Summer is often a time from which a faith community must recover financially since people are gone so much. This is not the case this year – our pledges have been coming in, as you have seen in the bulletins, at 100% for most of the summer. Remarkable!
There is more good news! On October 1 our new Parish Administrator will be in the office for the first time. Her name is Alice Brown, and she comes to us from St. Matthias in East Aurora where she has occupied the same position since 1996. She is very professional and competent, and we are fortunate to have someone of her skills and abilities to serve with us here at St. John's-Grace. We will be announcing plans to welcome her formally, along with getting a chance to meet her family.
I hope that you will make plans to participate in the diocesan-wide Holy Eucharist on Thursday, October 4, at 7:00 p.m., celebrating St. Francis Day and emphasizing the Millenium Development Goal that relates to sustainability of the earth. It will be held here at St. John's-Grace, the Bishop will celebrate the Eucharist, and The Rev. Judith Lee of St. Andrew's, Burt, and St. John's, Wilson, will preach. The liturgical elements, to a large extent, are those composed for our Season of Creation by John Schimminger.
On Sunday, October 7, we hold Salvator and his family in our hearts with a fund-raiser on board the USS Little Rock. Details concerning these and so many other happenings around here can be found throughout this newsletter.
It seems as though every September or October I depart from my usual meditations and reflections to sort of rhapsodize on what I see happening here for the new program year. I hope that it is enough to make you want to get involved for yourself!
As I write this I am preparing to go to New Mexico for a week to be with my mother as she starts treatment for a small, slow growing pancreatic cancer. We have been in touch daily for the last several weeks as the medical teams have offered advice and encouragement. As of today we are very encouraged that, with a low dose of self-administered chemotherapy, she has the possibility not only of more time despite the disease, but a good quality of life as well. I do appreciate all of your prayers and expressions of love and concern for her and for me.
August 2007
I received a call last Friday saying that Carmen Conner, my mentor from my early days in ministry, had died. On the same day I received an e-mail from his wife, Dorothy, telling me of his last days in hospital following his third major stroke. Besides spending the rest of the day simply missing Carmen, it gave me opportunity to reflect on his influence on me, and the reasons that I began this journey into full-time ministry to begin with.
Carmen was a Southern Baptist minister for 35 years and, at some point, became disillusioned by how many churches were obsessed with how many "souls" were being saved, how many people were being baptized, how big the budget was, and how successful the programs were. He entered into a reexamination of the Gospel and how the life and ministry of Jesus should define the mission and ministry of the Church.
In the seven years that I worked at Heights Baptist Church in Albuquerque where Carmen was the pastor, he was deeply immersed in what he saw as the revolutionary message envisioned in the Letter to the Ephesians. As I studied this book under his leadership my heart was changed as I read phrases like, "He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ," or "With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will." Of course, you know that my favorite passage presently is found in the third chapter: "... grace was given to me to bring ... the news of the boundless riches of Christ, and to make everyone see what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things; so that through the church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might be made known..."
It is this sense of a larger vision of God -- far above any vision we can imagine for ourselves -- that I yearn to see manifested in the Church -- what I called "The Cosmic Church" when I taught Ephesians a few years ago. This vision of restoring Creation and humanity's place as the image of the Creator seems to monopolize all of my teaching and preaching.
Carmen taught me at least one other thing as well, not so much in what he said as in how he conducted his ministry at HBC. He realized that this grand vision was so foreign to everything that we know, understand, and embrace that there was little chance of our realizing its impact in our lifetimes. However, in the face of declining programs, shaky finances and other portents of seeming failure -- when success was everything -- he was firm in his commitment to the vision he had glimpsed of what the Church could and needed to be in the world. I hope that I can be as steadfast in my faithfulness to the vision I have seen in Ephesians and other texts.
In the years since Carmen's first stroke I had the opportunity to visit with him in his home at least once. He was full of Greek translations and new insights into the Gospel which he was anxious to share with an eager student. And when I became rector of this church I received a letter from him which I have shared a time or two. It says, most notably, "Phil, don't forget to tell them about the Church and God's dream of creating a People to the Glory of God's name." And so that is what I try to do ...
July 2007
For the first time since I was in high school I have claimed, as The Secret Garden puts it, "a bit of earth" on the patio of my townhouse. Actually, the patio is concrete, so the bit of earth had to be brought in. While my mom was here in May we visited several nurseries and other sources of growing plants, and came up with a very pleasant plan for the little bit of space that is there. In cultivating my little garden I have been reminded of several wide-ranging (if not universal) lessons – valuable to individuals and churches everywhere.
First, the plan that I see in my mind for the garden is several weeks away from being seen with my eye. I planted small bedding plants and seeds that are only now beginning to take shape. I have a hope that the final product will look something like I envision it, but there is no guarantee. These plants sometimes have a life of their own, and they may take over the design and produce something very different than I had planned. One thing I do know, I chose plants and seeds that have the nature of being very pleasing to the eye, and I trust that however they form themselves into the whole garden the nature of their beauty will be predominant. It is in their nature to be beautiful.
Second, I am surprised every day by some new revelation that my garden has for me. Some days I am dazzled by the intricacies of the blue flossflower clumps that seem to hold an infinite number of tiny tentacles reaching for the sun, and other days the sheer extravagance of the red geraniums captures my attention. My favorite changes from moment to moment, and I sometimes just sit looking from one place to another, in awe of the miracles unfolding in that little space.
It has not happened yet, but I fully anticipate that something in my little garden will not survive. It may be that I don't pay the right kind of attention to it, or some disaster may befall, like hail or heavy winds, or maybe it will just die. In any case, I cannot, I think, expect for everything that I have planted to survive and thrive.
Perhaps most miraculous of all, these beautiful flowers are not visibly doing anything but Being. Now I know that, internally, they are working their little stems, taking in moisture and Miracle Grow Potting Soil nutrition, but when I go out and sit they are simply Being beautiful, giving me pleasure, being themselves, living peaceably on my patio.
I have continually said that the Church will be irresistible when we are truly Good News. It will not happen because we set out deliberately to accomplish some program of growth, but it will happen when we as individuals, and as a community, simply reveal the beauty of God's love and healing power to the people around us looking for something more than the aridity of their own existences. In this season of the Holy Spirit, it is the revealing of the God Breath that awakens and resurrects, and it must happen in us before it can happen to those around.
June 2007
I am very proud to have been one of fifty churches, nationally and internationally, to have celebrated Pluralism Sunday on Pentecost Sunday this year. In the past decade or two we have seen a change in approach and attitude in global relations from one of tolerance, which sounded very forward-looking, to one of celebration for the many and diverse ways in which God has chosen to make God's self known to humanity on the planet. Our celebration of Pluralism Sunday was made more meaningful through the always well-thought-out words and thoughts of John Schimminger in the very special Collect that he provided, as well as the arrangement of readings from other faith traditions.
The readings from Acts during this Easter Season have, more than ever before, led me to think and pray and meditate on this idea of God having been at work in the human species since long before we had words for it. Jesus, always a Jew and never a "Christian," who tried to lead his scruffy band of followers to live lives of authenticity in relation to God without concern for the hardships and empty promises of the prevailing culture, was, to most, a huge failure. It was not some magic, show-stealing Houdini-style resurrection that changed the world; most of the world did not seem to notice. Rather, it was Jesus' resurrection in the hearts of his followers and their subsequent movement into the wider world that made the difference. It is these exploits that Acts retells so effectively, showing the ripples beyond the Nazareth countryside and into the then known world.
As the reading on May 13 (Acts 16:9-15) told us, however, God was already at work outside the small world of Jesus and his disciples, and those who had never heard of Jesus or his disciples heard echoes of God's work in the words of those early missionaries. The collection of readings from other faith traditions reveals that the essence of God's work among humanity is not "owned" by any one people or tradition, but is found in the wisdom of all cultures.
Here is the challenge: to celebrate the work of God among all people with abandon and grace and, at the same time, to embrace and make more meaningful our own relationship with our Episcopal and Anglican traditions. The point of observing and celebrating God's work globally is not to diffuse, make all the same, the traditions of the world. We are not about "melting pot" theology. We are about "jazz band" theology, with each player bringing to the "set" all of the wonderful, unique aspects of their own gifts, backgrounds, understandings, rituals, so that the whole world marvels at the greatness of such a Creator. I remind you once more (at least) of one of my favorite passages from the letter to the Ephesians: "this grace was given to me to bring to the Gentiles the news of the boundless riches of Christ, and to make everyone see what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things; so that through the church [not necessarily structurally, but organically], the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to [all Creation!] (Eph. 3:8-10)
What a vision into which we may live!
May 2007
My favorite picture of God found in the Bible is found in Isaiah 25: "On this mountain, the God of the Angel Armies will throw a feast for all the people of the world, a feast of the finest foods, a feast with vintage wines, a feast with seven courses, a feast lavish with gourmet desserts." (From The Message paraphrase by Eugene H. Peterson.) This really describes the God that I desire to know -- a God of abundance and generosity, overwhelming generosity!
Recently I was asked to preach for a service of Holy Eucharist at our cathedral in support of the Millennium Development Goals. The service music was that of Bono and his band, U2, (thus, a "U2charist"). In addition to the Isaiah text above, I chose the Gospel passage from Mark where Jesus clears the temple of the bankers and merchants who had set up shop there. I think that, in a sense, Jesus was illustrating the picture of God that I have come to cherish so much. In fact Jesus' own words reflect his dismay at the barriers that had been placed in the way of the feast's being truly for everyone. "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people!" The feast of worship that was being enjoyed by the few at the temple had to be made accessible to all.
It seems as though this is a theme throughout Jesus' ministry: the people who most opposed him and his disciples were those who wanted to be in control of who was invited to the party. The leaders of his own religious community not only kept a tight rein on who could participate because of their moral qualifications, but enabled others to exclude "foreigners" by making them subject to rigid sacrificial laws and, in the process, enriching themselves (and the temple leaders, one could conclude).
What does that have to do with us now and, more particularly, the MDGs? There are many ways in which we have bought into a system that keeps all the best parts of the meal for ourselves through our ability to consume and the power that we implicitly hold in the capitalistic system -- even when we think we are poor! When we think about the resources that God has given this planet and its inhabitants it is hard to think that two billion of those inhabitants live on the equivalent of $1.00 per day or less! Is there simply not enough, or do we need to find ways to spread the wealth around? I would submit that there is, indeed, enough. We have too much in many cases.
The MDGs suggest that a contribution of .7% of each individual's revenue be given to some project that in some way brings others closer to the table of that great feast. .7% is not very much -- less than 1%. In my case it equals $331. Many of us have made our mark in Africa by our support of our own Salvatore Sabushimike, a Burundian who, while unemployed in his own country, spends his time organizing and coordinating volunteer efforts that relieve the devastation of his countrypersons because of flood, war and general disenfranchisement from the feast of God. We certainly invite your participation in this project!
There are many ways to help people in this world obtain clean water, begin and sustain businesses, farm and make food available for families and communities. I urge you to do some research for yourself and figure out your own place in making accessible this feast of finest food and vintage wines for all of God's People.
April 2007
"If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, (Behold!), everything has become new! All of this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation."
As we go through the intense "awe-fulness" of Holy Week (one of the most devastating experiences for me is the stripping of the altar on Maundy Thursday) we are letting go of life itself in anticipation of the Resurrection on the third day. The symbolism of the Resurrection is what Paul describes in this passage from the second letter to the church at Corinth. Resurrection is for us a restoration of Creation, a recovery of the Wholeness intended by God in the first Creation. It is well, then, for us to consider what it is to be "Easter People."
When we gathered together for the Lenten Healing Retreat at the beginning of the season I was asked to review why we place so much emphasis on Healing Ministry in our church. It is well worth the time every so often to remind ourselves what that is all about. There is a Hebrew term, Tikkun Olan, or, literally, "repairing the world." This is our mission as Easter People, to work for the restoration, the repairing of the world one person, one situation at a time. When we lay hands on and anoint in prayers for healing we pray for healing of fractured lives, relationships, for world situations in which the original Goodness of God's Creation is fractured and broken.
The word "reconcile" means to bring back together two entities that have been separated for whatever reason. In this passage Paul suggests that, through Christ, everything in heaven and on earth that has been broken or separated has been brought back together, and that our purpose is to make that restoration a reality. What a responsibility! This opportunity, in fact, defines completely who we are as a community. The ministry of reconciliation is what motivates any of the church's programs or activities, including outreach, worship, evangelism, education -- all of it! We are a People called to "repair the world," and we do it one relationship at a time, one project at a time, one letter to a legislator at a time, one kind word to another Child of God at a time.
The thing that we most keep in the front of our minds as we go about our repairing is what the Healing Team mentions just about every time we are together: we make ourselves vessels for the Holy Spirit to work through. We are called to use all of our own unique gifts and abilities, but to stand aside and make them available for the ministry of reconciliation through Christ.
So, that is why we are big on the ministry of healing at St. John's-Grace. It seems as though it is the place to start our journeys individually -- and our journey together -- into repairing our own little piece of the world.
March 2007
I want to call your attention particularly to the conversations that are happening during Lent on Wednesday nights. After a simple supper we are discussing "The Eight Points" by which are defined Progressive Christianity. We are calling it "Christianity for Today" and seeing if this is a movement we can find ourselves a part of. One of the assumptions of such discussions is that God has made us, among other things, a thinking people with a hunger to know God in dynamic ways so that our experience with God is an organic, vital journey rather than just a following of prescribed thoughts and actions.
The eight points include these statements:
By calling ourselves progressive, we mean that we are Christians who
-- have found an approach to God through the life and teachings of Jesus.
-- recognize the faithfulness of other people who have other names for the way to God's realm, and acknowledge that their ways are true for them, as our ways are true for us.
-- understand the sharing of bread and wine in Jesus' name to be a representation of an ancient vision of God's feast for all people.
-- invite all people to participate in our community and worship life without insisting that they become like us in order to be acceptable.
-- know that the way we behave toward one another and toward other people is the fullest expression of what we believe.
-- find more grace in the search for meaning than in absolute certainty, and in the questions than in the answers.
-- form ourselves into communities dedicated to equipping one another for the work we feel called to do: striving for peace and justice among all people, protecting and restoring the integrity of all God's creation and bringing hope to those Jesus called the least of his sisters and brothers.
-- recognize that being followers of Jesus is costly and entails selfless love, conscientious resistance to evil and renunciation of privilege.
While each of these is potentially a series in itself we are trying to touch on two elements each Wednesday night. If the discussions take us beyond Holy Week we will perhaps extend the series. Our thanks and acknowledgement to The Center for Progressive Christianity, Fred Plumer, President, for the materials used in this series.
As your rector I want to encourage you to be part of these discussions regarding our faith; they are really what we are about beyond the "exteriors" of the church.
February 2007
As the Bible 101 group watched the first episode of "Joseph Campbell and The Power of Myth" one Thursday morning this month it brought up the subject of "liminality" that I think is really important to our lives and our worship. "How is that possible?" you ask. Liminality has to do with threshold experiences in our lives; those times that we find ourselves profoundly changed by an experience so that we can see the difference as a result of it. I suggested at that time an exercise in which we make a time line of our lives and denote the "threshold" experiences from which a "new" person emerged from a particular experience. The classic example is the Native American "sweat-lodge" experience in which young boys make the transition from their mother's house of childhood to the world of adulthood. The experience may be the loss of a loved one, graduation from school, the birth of a child -- the list is endless. Just the acknowledgment of those experiences that have shaped us as individuals is an important exercise in charting where we are headed.
Also our worship should be a liminal experience -- a transforming experience. This is how I see it happening: we come into a sacred space, leaving behind the noise and clutter of the outside world -- symbolically and really leaving behind the cares and concerns of the world as well. We come in as a collection of people from different walks of life -- maybe even strangers to one another. As we proceed through the worship experience we gain a commonality through the reading of the Word, the music that we sing together and that is offered by organist and choir. We stand together and kneel together. Our minds and hearts are focused together as the preacher reflects on the readings. We pray together and confess together. Even the announcements serve to bring us together as a community. In the celebration of the Holy Eucharist we are bound together in a prayer of thanksgiving for the work of God through the life and ministry of Jesus. At some point in this process we are changed. We are perhaps changed as individuals, but we are changed from that collection of strangers into the mystical Body of Christ that leaves the sacred space "to love and serve the Lord," as one Body in one Spirit. One might even see the Coffee Hour as a celebration of our new-found community, an exploration through the discussions as to how this new community will be lived out in the upcoming week.
It is always in my mind to provide this kind of transforming experience, but I rarely take the chance to express to you my hope for our worship together. We are, first and foremost, a worshipping people. That is why we gather and all of the rest of our activities are outgrowths of that purpose.