The Saints in Light

Paul writes that we share in the inheritance of the saints in light through the resurrection of Jesus (Colossians 1:12-14). So, it seems right and fitting that as we approach All Saints Day (November 1) a parishioner who loves genealogy offered to do a search of my family history. This parishioner heard me mention that my wife Malinda, daughter Crystal, and I are going to decorate a gravesite at Christ Church Cathedral’s Old Episcopal Burying Ground for Dia de los Muertos or Day of the Dead (a Mexican version of All Saints Day). My family’s altar at the gravesite will be in honor of our respective grandmothers.

For the past several years, Christ Church Cathedral has partnered with the Living Arts and Science Center in the celebration Dia de los Muertos. It is on November 1 from 5-9 p.m. This event brings together a rich celebration of art, music, dance and food as we remember and honor those who have gone before us. We start at the Living Arts and Science Center, and then process the several blocks to our Old Episcopal Burying Ground where artists, families, and school classes “adopt” and decorate gravesites in remembrance of loved ones, including the Cathedral, which will decorate the gravesite of “Mary Jane,” and the altar inside the cottage.

So, I was particularly struck with what this parishioner found when she researched my family genealogy. One thing I learned perhaps explains why, after only 2 years, I feel so comfortable living Kentucky – I have deep Kentucky roots on both sides of my family. My great great grandfather, John Owens (1823-1895), was born in Bourbon County, Kentucky. A 5th great grandfather, Thomas Herndon, M.D. (1760-1820), a medical doctor and a veteran of the Revolutionary War, lived and died in Stamping Ground, Kentucky near Georgetown, only 20 miles from where I now live. I also learned that another 5th great grandfather, John Osborn (1757-1848), a farmer and saw mill owner, was a Revolutionary War veteran, and his brother was a minister. I guess ministry runs in the family.

When I looked at my family tree, I was also amazed by how many have gone before me. Here are the numbers through 5 great grandparents: 2 (parents), 4 (g’parents), 8 (great g’parents), 16 (great great g’parents), 32 (great great great g’parents), 64 (great great great great g’parents), and 128 (great great great great great g’parents). And the numbers in our direct lineage grow exponentially each generation back.

All Saints Day may be bitter sweet, but I also think it is a joyful celebration of life, the lives of the saints in light, who have gone before us. In our Baptismal Covenant we profess the ancient creed, “I believe…in the communion of saints,…the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 304). All Saints Day is that time when we can tell and retell the stories of our loved ones who have gone before us as we celebrate their lives. 

King of Glory, King of Peace

If you were in church this past Sunday for the 11:00 service you saw something pretty rare.  You saw me cry in church.  And I’m not talking about getting a little misty.  Oh no!  I’m talking about full-on waterworks!  Why?  Because to my surprise—well, it wouldn't have been had I read the bulletin—the choir sang General Seminary as the hymn at Communion.  And if you know me, you know why this was a big deal and why I couldn't help but let my emotions overwhelm me in that moment.

I won’t rehash everything that has happened at The General Theological Seminary in the past 10 days or so here.  There are plenty of posts on Facebook and Episcopal Café that can get you up to speed.  But the very abridged version is this:  80% of the faculty, all but two of which were my professors, went on strike due to issues surrounding the seminary’s leadership, and three days later those faculty were let go.  

The saga at General is not uncommon.  It is a saga of dysfunction and the inability to name problems and move beyond them through the practice of holy listening and conversation.  Plenty of churches and academic institutions go through this—if you have a connection to Transylvania University, you know exactly what I’m talking about.  But what makes this saga so very painful?

It’s because seminaries, in their purest form, represent everything that our parishes can be.  Yes, there are a bunch of differences, not the least of which is the academic routine.  However, what seminary teaches those of us who are training for leadership in the Church—both lay and ordained—is how to live in community.  Folks at seminaries come from all over and have a variety of stories.  My class at General consisted of young, old, gay, straight, married, single, divorced, and every area in-between.  Yet we were there for a common purpose:  to grow in our knowledge and love of God.  And, most importantly, to do it together.  We may have arrived there individually, but we were never meant to undertake that journey alone.  It took me a long time to figure that out.  And when I did, as the community was going through a change in its physical landscape, and as I was going through changes in my own life, I discovered that this place, this community, was my home.  It didn't mean that we always got along or agreed on every theological matter.  But it meant we were there for each other.  We weren't alone. 

In the last several days members of my class have sent messages to one another via Facebook and other social media to simply say, “I’m here.”  Not offering solutions, simply offering an ear.  It’s the same thing that happened on Sunday.  As I sat in my chair by the altar, crying like a small child, a verger simply placed some Kleenex in my hand, and Deacon Paula put her arm around me.  No one said anything.  No one tried to make my pain go away.  They were just there.  And that was enough.

There are debates about whether the three-year residential model of seminary is feasible in our ever-changing world.  I’m not going to get into a debate about that here.  But I will say that those three years showed me what community really looks like.  And you here at Christ Church Cathedral have done the same thing.  You know that we’re not meant to go on this roller coaster ride of life completely on our own.  We need each other. 

That is the power of community.  It’s not about making everyone happy.  It’s not about fixing everyone’s problems.  It’s about being there for one another, offering a shoulder for crying or an ear for listening.  I see this everyday in the way that the staff on the third floor takes care of one another and listens to one another’s problems.  And I see it in this community that rallies together when a person’s loved one passes away.  I see it in the diligent prayers of the Daughters of the King, Prayer Shawl Knitters, and those who come to the Wednesday Healing Eucharist and pray, not for their own healing, but for the healing of others.  This place offers community.  It offers a place to call home.  It’s about relationships.  And for that I thank you!

Many have asked what’s next for General, and I honestly do not know.  All I do know is that the Resurrection is real!  It has to be!  And if the Resurrection is real, then new life will come from this period of death.  Light will follow this period of darkness, as it always does when any community experiences tremendous pain.  That is our hope in Christ Jesus, and it is my hope for a community I love so dear, even if my idea of Resurrection doesn't look anything like God's.  Thank you for your support, brothers and sisters.  And please continue to pray for General. Seven whole days, not one in seven.

Wrestling with the Bible

This week in Youth Group we reflected on what it means to be in relationship with Holy Scripture as Christians. We contemplated on Scriptures authority and meaning in our lives, even as it holds difficult, and sometimes undesirable, teachings and commandments. How are we to live into the lessons and regulations that come out of a text written thousands of years ago? It is difficult to know what kind of authority a text from such a foreign time, place, and culture holds in our lives today.

As Episcopalians we believe the Holy Scriptures to be the Word of God, “because God inspired their human authors and because God still speaks to us through the Bible.” Furthermore, “we understand the meaning of the Bible by the help of the Holy Spirit, who guides the Church in the true interpretation of the Scriptures” (BCP 853-4). So, while this ancient text was written by human beings we do still believe it to be divinely inspired for God. Thus, we give this text authority as it is our written connection to God’s Word, not only spoken and written thousands of years ago, but also today.

So, if we, as Christians, and Episcopalians, claim to believe and trust in the authority of the Bible, as God’s Word (both past, current, and future) how do we wrestle with the difficult topics, lessons, and commands it holds? Well, for me, this is the great blessing and gift of our faith, the ability to question, to struggle with, and to discover what it is I believe. For, faith is not blind or naive, it is not the ability to simply take in information and trust that it is true. Faith is a journey, it is a never  ending struggle that leaves us stronger in the end, more prepared for the next challenge. For, Jacob did not struggle with God to simply receive a bruised hip, but a blessing from God.

In my life, it has been the difficult questions, not only from the Bible, but also from my peers, that have allowed my faith to grow and strengthen. Too often I try to steer away from the difficult topics and questions of the Christian faith, for I do not want to question God, or God’s divine authority. But,  it is only when I delve into the hard undesirable  subjects that I come out with sense of renewed faith. When I take the time and effort to think and pray through what it is that Scripture is saying, and how it is that God relates to the world, I am often surprised with the answers and knowledge I receive. Wrestling with Scripture is a necessary task for developing faith, for it is only when we are more strongly rooted in the beliefs and teachings of our religion (and Holy Scripture) that we are more fully able to live into our faith and share it with others.