Ruminations
I've been most remiss in posting over the past year. Resolutions aside, I thought I'd try something new. I've been preparing sermons each week for over eight years now. Every week seems like it's a new text; I seem to find something different than the last time. So, I'm going to briefly share some of the ideas that have occurred as I've studied each week's texts. This is a new one for me.
Year C, Advent 2 RCL
Baruch 5:1-9
Canticle 16
Philippians 1:3-11
Luke 3:1-6
Thematically, it feels like preparation for John the Baptist (JTB) Sunday next week, but we get two weeks of JTB.
We get two looks at the restoration of Jerusalem this week: Baruch and Second Isaiah. Both come from the time of the Babylonian Exile. Baruch, the scribe/companion of Jeremiah has remained in Jerusalem and lived in the destruction. Now, Baruch speaks to Jerusalem, telling her to look to the east (toward Babylon) to see the returning exiles, reminding her of her special position with God. The Isaiah passage (Isa 40:3-5) is quoted in the gospel. This is the core of the tenor aria in Messiah, "Every mountain...". Looking back at Isaiah itself, there is an analogue of the Baruch passage, speaking to Jerusalem, that precedes the quotation in Luke. The section Luke quotes is clearly addressed to the exiles. What's really interesting is the parallelism. Both Baruch and Isaiah see the way between Babylon and Jerusalem being made an easy passage. Isaiah's "salvation of God" is about the restoration of Jerusalem; as Christians we read this as what Jesus brings. Need to be clear about that.
Canticle 16, the Song of Zechariah, feeds us more of the JTB story. It is also a bit of a bridge between the Baruch/Isaiah salvation concept and the Jesus as salvation concept. JTB is the way maker and, coupled with remembering MK's and MT's "eating locusts and wild honey", he even looks the part of Elijah. Elijah is supposed to return before the coming of the Anointed One, so we get set up for that being Jesus. Notice the forgiveness of sins as prerequisite for salvation.
Paul's letter to the church at Philippi is for the Gentile congregation he founded in what will be Europe. Philippi was in Macedonia, established by Philip II around 350 and existing into the Ottoman Empire. It is a classic Paul thanksgiving, I think, and sets expectations for what will come in the balance of the letter. Blamelessness, purity, and righteousness are common themes with Paul, and this letter doesn't disappoint.
I've already plumbed a little of Luke, but let's look further. The beginning of the passage sets up who the hierarchy is, along with a little history. It is also JTB's call to ministry. Also note the characterization of "the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas". Annas is the father of Caiaphas who was high priest until 15CE; he was deposed by Rome. Caiaphas succeeded his father and some suggest that Annas was really the one in charge. Luke is very careful to characterize JTB's baptism: "a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins." We've traditionally held baptism to be a one-time event (excepting the Baptist strain of Christianity). We even have "conditional baptism" in our rites to cover the possibility of a re-baptism. That's very different from the ritual washing/bathing of Judaism. "Mikvah" were pools of water, fed by some natural source, used for ritual immersion. Both men and women, for all sorts of reasons. In Hebrew, the word broadly means a collection of water. Immersion in the mikvah would render the person 'ritually pure'. I think the meaning of 'salvation of our God' is intended to mean what Jesus brings to the world in the present (1st CE) and continues to bring to the world in our time. Just guessing, but I would think that the Isaiah quote would be pretty familiar to 1st century Jews and probably heard as speaking about the restoration of Jerusalem and the Jewish state. More interesting to me is the location being the Jordan river. It's probably an hour's drive from Jerusalem. That points to it being significant for some other reason. Looking back, the Jordan is the boundary of the wilderness and the promised land. It is also the place that Naaman is told to dip himself to rid him of his leprosy (probably actually Hansen's Disease). I can't think that it is coincidental. Is this perhaps a place of rebirth, a place of starting over? Crossing the Jordan, passing from the wilderness to the promised land certainly evokes memories of crossing the reed sea. In Joshua's telling, it even dried up like the reed sea. I think all of this is somewhat of a 'setting the stage' for the redefinition of Passover that is coming with Jesus' passion/death/resurrection/ascension. Maybe the baptism of John is something liminal, marking a beginning point, or an announcement. It does set up Jesus' baptism and the beginning of his ministry, but we have a few weeks to go before we get that story.
An Episcopal priest's thoughts on life, theology, and living into the full stature of Jesus Christ.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
When a baptism isn't just a baptism
I frequently get requests from people concerning ancestors who might have been a part of this parish. Sometime before my arrival, a database of the Baptism, Confirmation, Marriage, and Burial registers was created. The database is not complete and does have some errors in it, but it certainly provides a shortcut for most of my research.
I do enjoy these forays into history. With complete records from the founding of the parish in 1853, there are some real gems of information recorded by my predecessors. It seems like they didn't see the register as simply a log of sacramental acts, but as a part of the history of the parish. It also speaks to their understanding of the breadth of Jesus' "Come unto me" call. For example, there are marriages, baptisms, confirmations, and burials that have only a first name and notes like "Servant of Mr. X", or "Colored" added to the entry. These begin almost simultaneously with the founding of the parish.
It is also heartbreaking to pass through the Baptism and Burial registers during the time of the many Yellow Fever epidemics that passed through Mobile. Four months after the arrival of one of my predecessors, twins boys were born to the couple. One was stillborn, the other lived for two days. Five months later the rector and his wife became sick with Yellow Fever. He survived but his wife did not. He was apparently too sick to officiate at her burial. Unsurprisingly, he didn't remain with the parish for very long. Ministry can be really hard; this time, life was harder.
I was looking at the database recently for a family who were cousins of a former rector. I couldn't find what I was looking for, so I got the original register out of the vault and began a chronological search. Looking for a baptism entry for two children, I started in the year 1859, the year the oldest was born. I continued reviewing the register until after the youngest child's 10th birthday. Seemed like a reasonable time range, but I didn't find what I was looking for.
During my pass through the Baptism register for the period 1859-1872, I stumbled on a long series of "Private, Sick" baptisms from August through November of 1864. Many of the entries were made by the rector, but almost as many by another cleric. These latter entries came from places all over the southern part of Alabama and also include entries noted "servants" and "colored". There's no Yellow Fever epidemic recorded for 1864, but that was still during the "war", so perhaps it was something else.
It was in this time interval that I stumbled upon a entry that took my breath away. One line, as follows:
19 Aug. 1864 - Dick (colored) - Adult - Day of his execution
There are many entries in the register with the notation "In Extremis". We baptize babies that aren't expected to survive under that rubric. Adults at baptism are completely different because they are making a confession of faith and turning away from their former selves to become a new creation in Christ. Of course the benefit is forgiveness of sins. Legend has it that Constantine I was baptized on his death bed, so he wouldn't have any opportunity to commit (another) sin before he died.
Looking back at our rite, and considering this particular baptism, the renunciations and adhesions, the baptismal covenant, the water, and the invocation of the Trinity imparting forgiveness for anything past and the creation of a new being in Christ seem so much more powerful than a sacramental confession or extreme unction. If this isn't an example of Jesus' arms wide, beckoning us to him, I don't know what is.
I do enjoy these forays into history. With complete records from the founding of the parish in 1853, there are some real gems of information recorded by my predecessors. It seems like they didn't see the register as simply a log of sacramental acts, but as a part of the history of the parish. It also speaks to their understanding of the breadth of Jesus' "Come unto me" call. For example, there are marriages, baptisms, confirmations, and burials that have only a first name and notes like "Servant of Mr. X", or "Colored" added to the entry. These begin almost simultaneously with the founding of the parish.
It is also heartbreaking to pass through the Baptism and Burial registers during the time of the many Yellow Fever epidemics that passed through Mobile. Four months after the arrival of one of my predecessors, twins boys were born to the couple. One was stillborn, the other lived for two days. Five months later the rector and his wife became sick with Yellow Fever. He survived but his wife did not. He was apparently too sick to officiate at her burial. Unsurprisingly, he didn't remain with the parish for very long. Ministry can be really hard; this time, life was harder.
I was looking at the database recently for a family who were cousins of a former rector. I couldn't find what I was looking for, so I got the original register out of the vault and began a chronological search. Looking for a baptism entry for two children, I started in the year 1859, the year the oldest was born. I continued reviewing the register until after the youngest child's 10th birthday. Seemed like a reasonable time range, but I didn't find what I was looking for.
During my pass through the Baptism register for the period 1859-1872, I stumbled on a long series of "Private, Sick" baptisms from August through November of 1864. Many of the entries were made by the rector, but almost as many by another cleric. These latter entries came from places all over the southern part of Alabama and also include entries noted "servants" and "colored". There's no Yellow Fever epidemic recorded for 1864, but that was still during the "war", so perhaps it was something else.
It was in this time interval that I stumbled upon a entry that took my breath away. One line, as follows:
19 Aug. 1864 - Dick (colored) - Adult - Day of his execution
There are many entries in the register with the notation "In Extremis". We baptize babies that aren't expected to survive under that rubric. Adults at baptism are completely different because they are making a confession of faith and turning away from their former selves to become a new creation in Christ. Of course the benefit is forgiveness of sins. Legend has it that Constantine I was baptized on his death bed, so he wouldn't have any opportunity to commit (another) sin before he died.
Looking back at our rite, and considering this particular baptism, the renunciations and adhesions, the baptismal covenant, the water, and the invocation of the Trinity imparting forgiveness for anything past and the creation of a new being in Christ seem so much more powerful than a sacramental confession or extreme unction. If this isn't an example of Jesus' arms wide, beckoning us to him, I don't know what is.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Some thoughts on Liturgy
To characterize or simplify liturgy as the actions of the people in their worship of God, I think, diminishes both. The Greek λειτουργία encompasses both our actions and our worship, creating a space, a moment, where the human and divine create or inhabit touch points, spaces in time where we connect across the infinite and find consonance and resonance with each other. Every moment within our lives is liturgy, that yearning for contact with the divine, those instances of feeling touched by something ineffable, of touching something beyond our plane of existence.
Likewise, holding music as something to enhance our worship or as something to entertain diminishes the act of the composer seeking to reach beyond her/himself, the musicians' goal of perfectly presenting the composer’s work, or the hearer’s desire to be transported beyond the moment. It, too, is an act of worship, of reaching beyond one’s self to touch what is elusive and ephemeral.
Art, too, follows these same injunctions, as it also seeks to bridge between the finite and the infinite, creating spaces where crossover between the two can and will occur.
Too often we call what the structure of our worship simply a liturgy. Our work of the people in the worship of God on a given day at a given hour is that, but it is also the conscious focus of our energies and attention on seeking God, to reach out to God, and to be touched by God.
In every parish church, I believe that everything that is done, every moment of the day should be liturgy - the seeking, reaching, yearning for the palpable presence of God in our lives. To me, this means that every office and mass, every moment of the day should be our best efforts to cross the gulf that separates us from relationship and communion with our God.
Within the construct of our formal worship, there should be no action or event that has not been examined through a lens that seeks to determine its why and how, with an associated theological understanding. When we act in worship, we should always be reverent and joyful, and every action or activity should be done with integrity: maintaining the unwritten intent of the rite or celebration.
Opening the doors of the church should be de rigueur, with opportunities for everyone to partake of the space, the worship, the music, the art in its sacred space. The Daily Office, said or sung, invites us into God’s space. The mass affords a unique and intimate opportunity for communion with God. Concerts of voice and instruments invite and enable a different approach to the divine. Art opens yet another door to the infinite. Together, combining the enticement of our senses of sight, touch, hearing, smell, and taste, we create a microenvironment where human/divine interaction can and do occur with regularity.
It is through our liturgy of all forms that we create myriad opportunities for every person to find a pathway to the divine, to touch the face of God, and to carry that touch to every person around us. It is here that we find the incarnate God, both in worship and in our daily lives.
Likewise, holding music as something to enhance our worship or as something to entertain diminishes the act of the composer seeking to reach beyond her/himself, the musicians' goal of perfectly presenting the composer’s work, or the hearer’s desire to be transported beyond the moment. It, too, is an act of worship, of reaching beyond one’s self to touch what is elusive and ephemeral.
Art, too, follows these same injunctions, as it also seeks to bridge between the finite and the infinite, creating spaces where crossover between the two can and will occur.
Too often we call what the structure of our worship simply a liturgy. Our work of the people in the worship of God on a given day at a given hour is that, but it is also the conscious focus of our energies and attention on seeking God, to reach out to God, and to be touched by God.
In every parish church, I believe that everything that is done, every moment of the day should be liturgy - the seeking, reaching, yearning for the palpable presence of God in our lives. To me, this means that every office and mass, every moment of the day should be our best efforts to cross the gulf that separates us from relationship and communion with our God.
Within the construct of our formal worship, there should be no action or event that has not been examined through a lens that seeks to determine its why and how, with an associated theological understanding. When we act in worship, we should always be reverent and joyful, and every action or activity should be done with integrity: maintaining the unwritten intent of the rite or celebration.
Opening the doors of the church should be de rigueur, with opportunities for everyone to partake of the space, the worship, the music, the art in its sacred space. The Daily Office, said or sung, invites us into God’s space. The mass affords a unique and intimate opportunity for communion with God. Concerts of voice and instruments invite and enable a different approach to the divine. Art opens yet another door to the infinite. Together, combining the enticement of our senses of sight, touch, hearing, smell, and taste, we create a microenvironment where human/divine interaction can and do occur with regularity.
It is through our liturgy of all forms that we create myriad opportunities for every person to find a pathway to the divine, to touch the face of God, and to carry that touch to every person around us. It is here that we find the incarnate God, both in worship and in our daily lives.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
A Generational Disconnect?
Over the past couple of years, I've had a bunch of parishioners die. That's the reality in an aging congregation. We've had "the new prayerbook" for 30 years now and, for the most part, people "get" the theological and practice shifts that are embodied in it. Sure, there are folks who choose to kneel during the post-Sanctus, and there probably always will be. What I've observed, however, doesn't have anything to do with rubrics per se.
In the past two years, 12 souls have entered new life. For all of them, their deaths were blessings that ended suffering and dysfunction. Of those 10, the surviving relatives who knew of their loved one's commitment to the parish didn't bother to contact the parish and didn't bury them from any church.
The "Concerning the Service" notes on page 268 say that "Baptized Christians are properly buried from the church." There is more to it, but this is actually enough.
What I don't get is the children/nephews/nieces not contacting the parish. In these cases, they were raised in this parish and know that their mom/dad/aunt/uncle had a particular fondness for the place.
Now, I've done enough funerals that I'm really not looking to add to my coup stick, so that's not my motivation for bringing this up. (I have done more than twice as many funerals as baptisms and marriages combined.) Our Burial Offices are some of the best liturgical and theological rites around. They get it right, it's not too much, it's not too little. They make it very clear that 1) funerals are Easter Events (thanks to +Hays Rockwell for that one) and 2) that they are for those who remain anchored in this place.
When the church gets left out of the final rites, it seems to me that a few things happen.
I can't say what the problem really is, nor can I offer a solution. My only suggestion is that individually, each of us makes sure that our relatives know what is to happen to us. Of course, saying this in this forum won't help most of my parishioners because they don't do email much less read the rantings of their parish priest.
In the past two years, 12 souls have entered new life. For all of them, their deaths were blessings that ended suffering and dysfunction. Of those 10, the surviving relatives who knew of their loved one's commitment to the parish didn't bother to contact the parish and didn't bury them from any church.
The "Concerning the Service" notes on page 268 say that "Baptized Christians are properly buried from the church." There is more to it, but this is actually enough.
What I don't get is the children/nephews/nieces not contacting the parish. In these cases, they were raised in this parish and know that their mom/dad/aunt/uncle had a particular fondness for the place.
Now, I've done enough funerals that I'm really not looking to add to my coup stick, so that's not my motivation for bringing this up. (I have done more than twice as many funerals as baptisms and marriages combined.) Our Burial Offices are some of the best liturgical and theological rites around. They get it right, it's not too much, it's not too little. They make it very clear that 1) funerals are Easter Events (thanks to +Hays Rockwell for that one) and 2) that they are for those who remain anchored in this place.
When the church gets left out of the final rites, it seems to me that a few things happen.
- In the particular instances I know of, the wishes of the parishioner seem to have been ignored. One of mine actually had funeral plans on file.
- The community that has been a part of the departed's life is robbed of the opportunity to simultaneously say 'goodbye' to their friend and welcome their friend into his/her new life with God.
- The church is robbed of its role in caring for its members from baptism to the grave. As pastors, that's what we've signed up for.
- I know its minor, but, when the church doesn't know about them, then the parish registers don't get updated. These are always a problem, anyway, but this behavior just exacerbates an already out-of-control situation.
I can't say what the problem really is, nor can I offer a solution. My only suggestion is that individually, each of us makes sure that our relatives know what is to happen to us. Of course, saying this in this forum won't help most of my parishioners because they don't do email much less read the rantings of their parish priest.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Is violence endemic to us?
Since the shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT, there
has been much media, social, political, and religious attention focused on gun
control. I can’t count the number of
voices calling for stricter regulations and tighter controls. There are at
least an equal number who want to maintain the status quo. The rhetoric has been deafening.
What strikes me as odd is that we didn’t have similarly
boisterous outcries following Columbine, Gabrielle Giffords, or the Aurora
Theatre shootings. Perhaps that’s because there were so many children who were
innocent victims. I suppose the reasons
are unimportant, but I think the conversation is very important. I’m afraid the conversation won’t be addressing
the real problem. I think Porky Pine,
speaking to Pogo Possum captured it perfectly:
“We have met the enemy and he is us.”
French Literature professor and literary critic René
Girard made a profound discovery. While
looking for what made a truly great novel, he observed that conflict
relationships always seemed to include a third-party. This most often is an
object, a thing, and it is the source of the conflict. He suggests that all of our desires, what we
want, are derived from someone else. We
“borrow” them. He called this “mimetic
desire”. Mimesis, from which the word
‘mime’ is derived, is imitation, mimicry, or representation. This leads to mimetic rivalry: one party has
something (Girard calls it the ‘mediator’) that the other desires. It manifests itself in many ways. Perhaps the
easiest to see is ‘the desire to have what someone else has.’ Advertising seems to be oriented toward
convincing us that we really want to possess the newest product.
From here, it is a short jump to violence as a method of
acquiring the mediator. If you think
about novels you’ve read, you can probably already identify some examples of
this.
The last concept he identified is the ‘scapegoat
mechanism’. This, he holds, as foundational to sacrifice and human culture
itself. He sees religion as the development of a mechanism to combat mimetic
rivalry.
A few examples from the Bible:
- Cain kills Abel because God preferred Abel’s offering over that of Cain.
- Jacob tricks Isaac into giving him Esau’s birthright. Rachel helped out in this one, so we have conspiracy.
- Joseph is cast into a pit by his brothers because he is Jacob’s favorite son.
- The Apostles blame the Jews for Jesus’ crucifixion (Acts). This one is complicated: Mimetic rivalry is behind Jesus’ trial; the Apostles are scapegoating the Jews; in a theological view, Jesus is the scapegoat for humanity.
There are many, many more examples throughout the Bible.
With Girard's perspective in view, it would seem like violence is endemic to the human race. I think the question that remains is: Is there anything we can do to change this? I don't like being a pessimist, but I'm not hopeful. My lack of hope stems from a sense that we, as humans, don't spend a lot of time thinking on our motivations for the things we do. I'll not suggest that we give over too much to the reptilian brain we each possess, but it does seem like it at times. I know when I find myself getting angry, one of the last thoughts is "Why am I getting angry?" It probably ought to be one of the first thoughts. Maybe the first thought should be, "Is this how God would want me to behave?" Something about the second of the Great Commandments comes to mind.
What it’s really all about is our failure to live into
the Kingdom of God, to live into our full stature as Children of God. We keep forgetting or ignoring Jesus’
commandment to us: “Love one another as I have loved you.” It’s only what God has been after us
to do since the beginning. I wonder why
it is that we can’t seem to do it.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Laetare Sunday
Today is the 4th Sunday in Lent, variously known as Laetare Sunday. This comes from the introit for the day Laetare Jerusalem, from Isaiah 66:10:
Yet another manifestation is the use of Rose colored vestments and paraments - another way in which the Lenten mood is lightened.
More significant than any of these is the idea swarming around in out texts for today. Joshua 5:9-12 recounts a Passover observance in the Promised Land, marking the transition of the Israelites from a nomadic to a people of place and from dependence on God for sustenance to their new life as an agrarian society, one capable of providing for themselves. Luke 15:11-32 is the parable of the Prodigal Son, well known in its own right. The younger son has demanded his inheritance, gone off and squandered it in sinful living, is forced to (gasp) work for a living, and realizes that his father's servants live better. He resolves to go home, confess to his father and ask to be treated as one of the servants. His father sees him coming and with great rejoicing organizes a banquet and treats his son royally. Psalm 32 rejoices in the forgiveness of God. Paul's words to the Corinthians in 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 speak of our reconciled relationship with God through Jesus sacrifice on the cross.
A rabbi friend says that Jewish festivals can be characterized by three simple sentences:
"Rejoice, O Jerusalem: and come together all you that love her: rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow: that you may exult, and be filled from the breasts of your consolation."Another designation is "Refreshment Sunday" - a bit of a respite in the midst of Lent as it is the "middle" Sunday in the season.
Yet another manifestation is the use of Rose colored vestments and paraments - another way in which the Lenten mood is lightened.
More significant than any of these is the idea swarming around in out texts for today. Joshua 5:9-12 recounts a Passover observance in the Promised Land, marking the transition of the Israelites from a nomadic to a people of place and from dependence on God for sustenance to their new life as an agrarian society, one capable of providing for themselves. Luke 15:11-32 is the parable of the Prodigal Son, well known in its own right. The younger son has demanded his inheritance, gone off and squandered it in sinful living, is forced to (gasp) work for a living, and realizes that his father's servants live better. He resolves to go home, confess to his father and ask to be treated as one of the servants. His father sees him coming and with great rejoicing organizes a banquet and treats his son royally. Psalm 32 rejoices in the forgiveness of God. Paul's words to the Corinthians in 2 Corinthians 5:16-21 speak of our reconciled relationship with God through Jesus sacrifice on the cross.
A rabbi friend says that Jewish festivals can be characterized by three simple sentences:
"They tried to kill us. We survived. Let's eat!"Neither of today's feasts quite fit that model. It's more like:
Jesus died. Jesus reconciles us to God. Jesus feeds us all.Two feasts and forgiveness. You see, we are God's prodigal daughters and sons. We fail at living into our identities as Children of God. When we come to God's table seeking forgiveness and transformation, we open the door to let God teach and lead and mold us to God's purpose. Our weekly trip to God's table is a banquet prepared for us, welcoming us home, and declaring us to be God's treasured children. It is through our confession of our failings and feeding on Jesus' body and blood that we are saved and transformed into the new creations of which Paul speaks. The Collect of the Day frames it all:
"Gracious Father, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ came down from heaven to be the true bread which gives life to the world: Evermore give us this bread, that he may live in us, and we in him."And so we lay our failings at Jesus' feet, confident of God's forgiveness, open to transformation, and knowing we will all be fed.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
I've been bad...
Yes, it's Lent and I have been bad. It's been a month and a half since my last addition to this blog. It's not that I haven't had anything to say. It is, in fact, simply because I didn't make the time to write something. What can I say, it's been a little busy or preoccupied or...
I've written before that Doc had a breast cancer diagnosis. After a segmental mastectomy with questionable margins, she and I began talking quite earnestly about the path forward. We had a re-excision scheduled at M.D. Anderson for 4 February, but both of us seemed to think that didn't make a lot of sense, particularly given her family history: her mother and her mother's two sisters all have had it. In light of this information, it seems like the question of cancer was not "if" but "when." Given the extent of DCIS that Doc seemed to have, we felt like the odds were not favorable for this procedure being the end of it. After a lot of talking and thinking and praying, we arrived at a decision: bilateral mastectomy with concomitant reconstruction.
The next question loomed: Stay at M.D. Anderson or bring it home? We interviewed surgeons, one whom I've known since burying his mother-in-law almost 6 years ago, met with a medical oncologist and decided we could have just as good a team as in Houston. No more 7-hour drives!
Surgery happened on 6 February. The surgeons were very pleased and follow-up visits went fine. The last drains were removed on 18 February and everything was looking great. Until the 25th. Doc woke to red, angry skin. We were concerned, but we had an appointment with the surgeon that afternoon. Tuesday, Doc had surgery to debride the area and explant the tissue expanders. New antibiotic course started and Doc's feeling pretty good, in spite of it all. She's a trouper. Stay tuned.
I've written before that Doc had a breast cancer diagnosis. After a segmental mastectomy with questionable margins, she and I began talking quite earnestly about the path forward. We had a re-excision scheduled at M.D. Anderson for 4 February, but both of us seemed to think that didn't make a lot of sense, particularly given her family history: her mother and her mother's two sisters all have had it. In light of this information, it seems like the question of cancer was not "if" but "when." Given the extent of DCIS that Doc seemed to have, we felt like the odds were not favorable for this procedure being the end of it. After a lot of talking and thinking and praying, we arrived at a decision: bilateral mastectomy with concomitant reconstruction.
The next question loomed: Stay at M.D. Anderson or bring it home? We interviewed surgeons, one whom I've known since burying his mother-in-law almost 6 years ago, met with a medical oncologist and decided we could have just as good a team as in Houston. No more 7-hour drives!
Surgery happened on 6 February. The surgeons were very pleased and follow-up visits went fine. The last drains were removed on 18 February and everything was looking great. Until the 25th. Doc woke to red, angry skin. We were concerned, but we had an appointment with the surgeon that afternoon. Tuesday, Doc had surgery to debride the area and explant the tissue expanders. New antibiotic course started and Doc's feeling pretty good, in spite of it all. She's a trouper. Stay tuned.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Luke's Baptism of Jesus
A personal point of priviledge. Doc has decided (it was joint, but it is her body) to take a "scorched earth" approach to her breast cancer. There were just too many possibilities for future recurrence or new occurrence, so she's scheduled for bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction on 4 February. It has been a long and grueling road to get here, there's more in front of us, but it's where we want to go. I haven't exactly been rigorous about writing here, but I suspect I'll be a bit distracted around that time. If you think about it around the date, please add Doc and her health care team to your prayers. Julian provides a bit of an anchor for me: "All will be well, and all manner of things will be well."
-------------------------
Now for the main event:
This week's Gospel is Luke's account of the Baptism of Jesus.
The RCL continues the BCP Lectionary tradition of hop-scotching, but adds v. 3:17 to the lesson, continuing the speech of John the Baptist:
"His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
I'm not sure what motivated them to include that verse. Whatever. Then we skip over John's arrest by Herod the Tetrarch. That omission helps us see that he (Herod) is no better than his father, Herod the Great. As I look around, it seems like many leaders have taken to Herod the Tetrarch's practice of imprisoning those who cause problems for them. But, I digress.
The balance of the passage is very parallel to that of Mark. A few differences:
Mark: ...he saw the heavens torn apart...
Luke: ...the heaven was opened...
Mark: ...the Spirit descending like a dove on him.
Luke: ...the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.
The final verse is identical between them: "And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
Scholars agree that Luke knew of (if not possessed) the Gospel According to Mark. So did Matthew, but their versions are very different. In Matthew, Jesus goes to John to be baptized and John resists and finally capitulates. The sequences above come out differently for Matthew, as well:
"And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, 'This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.'"
In Luke & Mark, the heavens are opened/torn apart versus Matthew's phrasing, above. I think it's interesting that Mark's 'torn apart' is linguistically the same as the tearing of the curtain in the Temple at Jesus' death. Luke and Matthew kept that, but changed the action of the heavens. As readers, of Mark & Luke, we know to whom the final verse is addressed: it is to Jesus; what we cannot know is who else can hear the voice. In Matthew, it seems pretty clear that the voice is speaking to all people. (John's gospel is even more straightforward, but we don't read it on Sundays.) Given Luke's preference, it kind of surprised me that Matthew's phrasing wasn't in Luke. It seem to me that, given the balance of Matthew's focus for the Gospel, his gospel would have the Markan phrasing.
It is really interesting to me that all four of the canonical gospels include a baptism story. The lingering question, I think, is: "Why?" An Argument can be made for Mark's version that it is Jesus' adoption by God, but not for any of the others. So, why was it so important for them? I'll give you a hint: this is the first Sunday after The Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Just as I said last week about Luke's shepherds and Matthew's magi really being about the same thing, the announcement of Jesus' arrival and the economia of God, I think the accounts in all four of the canonical gospels are continuations of The Epiphany and formally marking the beginning of Jesus' ministry. As readers, we get to hear the sotto voce and soliloquy speeches. We're supposed to hear them, because WE are the intended audience. It is for us to recognize that God has marked Jesus as God's son for all of us to see. Through the Gospels, we can anamnetically remember the event of Jesus' baptism. He didn't need to be baptized - he was already divine. It is you and me that need to be baptized, to be reborn to a new life in Jesus through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is our induction into the priesthood of all believers, it is our way of salvation.
A great day to be baptized. At our parish, when we don't have candidates for baptism and after renewing our baptismal covenant, we process to the font, sing the Thanksgiving over Water and then asperse the people with the water as a reminder of their own baptisms. I thing that's important because almost all in the parish were baptized as infants or very small children. It gives us a way to build a memory of our baptism, one that we can come back to time and time again, and remember the greatest gift that God has ever given - God's own self for us.
-------------------------
Now for the main event:
This week's Gospel is Luke's account of the Baptism of Jesus.
The RCL continues the BCP Lectionary tradition of hop-scotching, but adds v. 3:17 to the lesson, continuing the speech of John the Baptist:
"His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
I'm not sure what motivated them to include that verse. Whatever. Then we skip over John's arrest by Herod the Tetrarch. That omission helps us see that he (Herod) is no better than his father, Herod the Great. As I look around, it seems like many leaders have taken to Herod the Tetrarch's practice of imprisoning those who cause problems for them. But, I digress.
The balance of the passage is very parallel to that of Mark. A few differences:
Mark: ...he saw the heavens torn apart...
Luke: ...the heaven was opened...
Mark: ...the Spirit descending like a dove on him.
Luke: ...the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove.
The final verse is identical between them: "And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
Scholars agree that Luke knew of (if not possessed) the Gospel According to Mark. So did Matthew, but their versions are very different. In Matthew, Jesus goes to John to be baptized and John resists and finally capitulates. The sequences above come out differently for Matthew, as well:
"And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from heaven said, 'This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.'"
In Luke & Mark, the heavens are opened/torn apart versus Matthew's phrasing, above. I think it's interesting that Mark's 'torn apart' is linguistically the same as the tearing of the curtain in the Temple at Jesus' death. Luke and Matthew kept that, but changed the action of the heavens. As readers, of Mark & Luke, we know to whom the final verse is addressed: it is to Jesus; what we cannot know is who else can hear the voice. In Matthew, it seems pretty clear that the voice is speaking to all people. (John's gospel is even more straightforward, but we don't read it on Sundays.) Given Luke's preference, it kind of surprised me that Matthew's phrasing wasn't in Luke. It seem to me that, given the balance of Matthew's focus for the Gospel, his gospel would have the Markan phrasing.
It is really interesting to me that all four of the canonical gospels include a baptism story. The lingering question, I think, is: "Why?" An Argument can be made for Mark's version that it is Jesus' adoption by God, but not for any of the others. So, why was it so important for them? I'll give you a hint: this is the first Sunday after The Epiphany of Our Lord Jesus Christ.
Just as I said last week about Luke's shepherds and Matthew's magi really being about the same thing, the announcement of Jesus' arrival and the economia of God, I think the accounts in all four of the canonical gospels are continuations of The Epiphany and formally marking the beginning of Jesus' ministry. As readers, we get to hear the sotto voce and soliloquy speeches. We're supposed to hear them, because WE are the intended audience. It is for us to recognize that God has marked Jesus as God's son for all of us to see. Through the Gospels, we can anamnetically remember the event of Jesus' baptism. He didn't need to be baptized - he was already divine. It is you and me that need to be baptized, to be reborn to a new life in Jesus through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is our induction into the priesthood of all believers, it is our way of salvation.
A great day to be baptized. At our parish, when we don't have candidates for baptism and after renewing our baptismal covenant, we process to the font, sing the Thanksgiving over Water and then asperse the people with the water as a reminder of their own baptisms. I thing that's important because almost all in the parish were baptized as infants or very small children. It gives us a way to build a memory of our baptism, one that we can come back to time and time again, and remember the greatest gift that God has ever given - God's own self for us.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
The visit of the Magi
This Sunday's Gospel is Matthew's account of the visit of the Magi (the Wise Men) to Bethlehem. I've shared some thoughts about that in my previous post "The Holy Innocents", so I'll skip that here.
There is a ton of apocryphal information.
First is how many. Matthew never says, but he does tell us about the three gifts. I guess the idea was that each gift was borne by a different person. Oh, and yes, they were all men; even though women were probably just as wise if not wiser. That's a sign of the first century times.
Somewhere along the line, the three wise men got names and countries of origin. Balthasar from Arabia, Melchior from Persia, and Caspar (or Gaspar) from India. No one knows what happened to them after they left Bethlehem. One story is that St. Thomas baptized one of them when he brought the faith to India. I'd have to guess that it was Caspar; I've got a one in three chance, right?
Matthew is explicit in the gifts that were brought: gold, myrrh, and frankincense. But he doesn't say what they represent. Again, suppositions. Gold - for a king, a measure of the respect and honor for the king, not to mention adding to his coffers. Myrrh has at least two possible explanations. First, myrrh was used as a burial ointment; something to cover the smell. This explanation would seem to point to Jesus' death and burial. Second, myrrh is used in the preparation of anointing oils (even today) for Olio infirmatum and Chrism. This would seem to point to Jesus as high priest. Finally, frankincense would be an offering to God, pointing to Jesus' incarnation as human yet remaining divine.
So, Matthew identifies Jesus as king, priest/victim, and God. That's pretty significant by itself, but the whole Epiphany idea, that is, disclosing/revealing/manifesting Jesus' identity to the world is a way bigger deal. Jesus was not hidden from the wise and discerning (the wise men), nor was he hidden from ordinary people. Think Luke's shepherds. Think about Jesus' ministry among the marginalized and outcast of his society.
Jesus came to the ordinary. Today we'd see him with street people, prostitutes, mentally ill, working poor, just to name a few. I think that emphasizes how much God really wants to be in relationship with us. Jesus, living among us as the Incarnate Son of God, opening God's self to the cruelties and inhumanities we perpetrate tells me that God is either totally off the rails or so loves us so completely that it makes no difference what happens. That is kenotic, self-emptying love. God gives away God's self for our benefit. I think there's no greater gift than the Incarnation.
There is a ton of apocryphal information.
First is how many. Matthew never says, but he does tell us about the three gifts. I guess the idea was that each gift was borne by a different person. Oh, and yes, they were all men; even though women were probably just as wise if not wiser. That's a sign of the first century times.
Somewhere along the line, the three wise men got names and countries of origin. Balthasar from Arabia, Melchior from Persia, and Caspar (or Gaspar) from India. No one knows what happened to them after they left Bethlehem. One story is that St. Thomas baptized one of them when he brought the faith to India. I'd have to guess that it was Caspar; I've got a one in three chance, right?
Matthew is explicit in the gifts that were brought: gold, myrrh, and frankincense. But he doesn't say what they represent. Again, suppositions. Gold - for a king, a measure of the respect and honor for the king, not to mention adding to his coffers. Myrrh has at least two possible explanations. First, myrrh was used as a burial ointment; something to cover the smell. This explanation would seem to point to Jesus' death and burial. Second, myrrh is used in the preparation of anointing oils (even today) for Olio infirmatum and Chrism. This would seem to point to Jesus as high priest. Finally, frankincense would be an offering to God, pointing to Jesus' incarnation as human yet remaining divine.
So, Matthew identifies Jesus as king, priest/victim, and God. That's pretty significant by itself, but the whole Epiphany idea, that is, disclosing/revealing/manifesting Jesus' identity to the world is a way bigger deal. Jesus was not hidden from the wise and discerning (the wise men), nor was he hidden from ordinary people. Think Luke's shepherds. Think about Jesus' ministry among the marginalized and outcast of his society.
Jesus came to the ordinary. Today we'd see him with street people, prostitutes, mentally ill, working poor, just to name a few. I think that emphasizes how much God really wants to be in relationship with us. Jesus, living among us as the Incarnate Son of God, opening God's self to the cruelties and inhumanities we perpetrate tells me that God is either totally off the rails or so loves us so completely that it makes no difference what happens. That is kenotic, self-emptying love. God gives away God's self for our benefit. I think there's no greater gift than the Incarnation.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
The Holy Innocents
Yesterday, the church commemorated The Holy Innocents, the victims of Herod's infanticide chronicled in the Gospel according to Matthew. You remember the story? The wise men stopped by to as directions. Herod started feeling paranoid and ordered his soldiers to kill all male children two years old and younger.OK - so there are some problems with the story. First, there is no historical record that corresponds to this incident. You'd think that if someone was killing babies in Bethlehem, there would have been some evidence of it. Second, if they were wise and they were men, why would they be asking directions? Really? I can believe the part about Herod feeling paranoid - there is evidence of this in history.
Matthew may have heard this story circulating. It certainly sets up the prophetic fulfillment of calling Jesus out of Egypt. Matthew's Gospel has a strong focus on Jesus being the fulfillment of prophecy. Who knows where the story came from, but it is part of the canon and so we continue to read/hear it.
I think the story is timeless. Whether it is historically-based or not doesn't change the effect of it. Innocent victims happen all around us and have since the beginning of history. I think Rene Girard's work developing the concept of mimetic rivalry as the origins of violence and competition are dead on. We fear what we do not understand and act against that which challenges us or of which we are jealous. The murder of Abel recounted in Genesis is the first biblical example of this that I know of.
Throughout human history, we have had slaughter of innocents. I think it's important that we retain and commemorate The Holy Innocents. They establish a baseline of atrocity and horror that we always remind us of our cruelty and fallen-ness as we consider the The Holy Innocents of modern time. Just consider the realities of the Holocaust, genocides happening around the world, suicide bombings, terrorist attacks, and mass shootings. We are broken, we fall short of God's desires for us. Even in our un-holy state, God still showers grace upon us. God still wants to be in relationship with us. God still loves us, even those who perpetrate such horrible and tragic events.
That even though we reject God's love and care for us, God still loves us and can forgive us is something that helps me to understand what love really is all about.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
A First Post...
OK, time to finally make the first post. After all, the blog was created back in October.
I've been feeling pulled/tugged to reflect on life. I'm a parish priest and encounter lots of situations in my daily life that cause me to reflect theologically on them. Events happening around the world pique that interest as well. How are we supposed to live into our fullest relationship with God when we can't even get along with each other? This is what I've intended to write on...
... but I've been pretty distracted of late. That has a lot to do with the fact that we've started doing the Breast Cancer Tango in our house. It's taken on a life of its own and we're not done yet.
My better half (yes, really) has her own business and a Ph.D. in molecular biology. Let's call her "Doc". She found a very small lump at the beginning of October. Off to Ob/Gyn for review, then mammogram. Next ultrasound and biopsy. Yes, it's cancer. So, both of us had been paddling our canoe on a river in Egypt, but no more. Now we have to deal with Doc's "alien invader."
Long story short, it's now the end of December. The "alien invader" has been removed. As they used to say on some game show, "But, there's more!" Genetic testing has been ordered, as has tumor typing. The margins aren't clean. There are also areas of DCIS, known as Stage-0 cancer. Both of these causing concern and lack of clarity on a path forward.
A few weeks ago, Doc asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I said, "The only thing I really want is a happy and healthy partner." It really is true. With all of the angst and worry that we've been through in the last three months, the bright side is a deepened relationship. As Doc said last night, "It's like being newlyweds, only better." I couldn't agree more.
I'll update this saga periodically. In the mean time, maybe i can get this blog back on track.
Peace.
I've been feeling pulled/tugged to reflect on life. I'm a parish priest and encounter lots of situations in my daily life that cause me to reflect theologically on them. Events happening around the world pique that interest as well. How are we supposed to live into our fullest relationship with God when we can't even get along with each other? This is what I've intended to write on...
... but I've been pretty distracted of late. That has a lot to do with the fact that we've started doing the Breast Cancer Tango in our house. It's taken on a life of its own and we're not done yet.
My better half (yes, really) has her own business and a Ph.D. in molecular biology. Let's call her "Doc". She found a very small lump at the beginning of October. Off to Ob/Gyn for review, then mammogram. Next ultrasound and biopsy. Yes, it's cancer. So, both of us had been paddling our canoe on a river in Egypt, but no more. Now we have to deal with Doc's "alien invader."
Long story short, it's now the end of December. The "alien invader" has been removed. As they used to say on some game show, "But, there's more!" Genetic testing has been ordered, as has tumor typing. The margins aren't clean. There are also areas of DCIS, known as Stage-0 cancer. Both of these causing concern and lack of clarity on a path forward.
A few weeks ago, Doc asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I said, "The only thing I really want is a happy and healthy partner." It really is true. With all of the angst and worry that we've been through in the last three months, the bright side is a deepened relationship. As Doc said last night, "It's like being newlyweds, only better." I couldn't agree more.
I'll update this saga periodically. In the mean time, maybe i can get this blog back on track.
Peace.
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