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Tag: Ronald D. Pogue

  • The Flesh Became Word

    We are in the days leading up to the Day of Pentecost and in a period sometimes known as Ascensiontide. The Ascension (Luke 24:44-53) is probably not the best known of the feast days on the calendar, but it is one that takes on increasing depth and importance the more you think about it and experience it. Ascension Coptic Icon

    The Ascension is not about gravity, or the physical location of heaven, or any of that. It is about God.  In fact, even though it comes toward the end of Eastertide, the Ascension is most closely related in meaning to Christmas.  At Christmas we celebrate the Incarnation, God becoming flesh and living among us. 

    What was begun at Christmas is brought full circle and proclaimed again in a different way at the Ascension. In the Incarnation, what it means to be God became fully a part of what it means to be a human being. In Jesus, the human and the divine become united in the person and life of one man. In the Ascension, this human being became a part of who God is.

    It was not the spirit of Jesus, or the essence of Jesus, or the divine nature of Jesus, or the invisible part of Jesus, or the idea of Jesus, or anything like that, that ascended to the Father. It was the resurrected body of Jesus: a body that the disciples had touched, a body that ate and drank with them, a real, physical, but gloriously restored body, bearing the marks of nails and a spear. This humanity has become a living, participating part of Divinity.

    The Ascension tells us that it is a good and holy thing to be a human. In fact, it is so good and holy a thing that God became human. The fullness of God now includes what it means to be a human being.

    So we are able to approach God with confidence and with joy. Because we are not only dealing with the Creator of the universe and the Sovereign of all time and of eternity; we are also drawing near to the One who lived our life, has shared our fate, who knows us, and cares about us.

    I'll see you in Church!

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    P.S. You just can't beat Charles Wesley when you need a hymn for an occasion like Ascension Day!  Here's  the Choir of Tewkesbury Abbey singing his rousing hymn Hail the Day That Sees Him Rise. (By the way, Ascension Day this year also happens to be the 282nd anniversary of Charles Wesley’s conversion experience in 1738.)

    1. Hail the day that sees him rise, Alleluia!
    glorious to his native skies; Alleluia!
    Christ, awhile to mortals given, Alleluia!
    enters now the highest heaven! Alleluia!

    2. There the glorious triumph waits; Alleluia!
    lift your heads, eternal gates! Alleluia!
    Wide unfold the radiant scene; Alleluia!
    take the King of glory in! Alleluia!

    3. See! he lifts his hands above; Alleluia!
    See! he shows the prints of love: Alleluia!
    Hark! his gracious lips bestow, Alleluia!
    blessings on his Church below. Alleluia!

    4. Lord beyond our mortal sight, Alleluia!
    raise our hearts to reach thy height, Alleluia!
    there thy face unclouded see, Alleluia!
    find our heaven of heavens in thee. Alleluia!

  • Four Practices for Covidtide

    The word “ecclesiastical” refers to the Church. It is derived from the Greek word ekklesia (ἐκκλησία). Ekklesia, which is translated Church, occurs 114 times in the New Testament. There seems to be strong consensus that its original secular meaning was a gathering of citizens called out by the herald from their homes into some public place; an assembly. 1920px-SARS-CoV-2_without_background

    The Church, therefore, is a public gathering of Christ’s followers. For me, that is the hardest thing to reconcile during this time when we are counseled to stay at home, apart from one another. While I can’t quite solve the theological problem, I have discerned four practices that we as Christians can do for each other and the world at our doorsteps during this season I'm calling Covidtide. I offer them for your consideration.

    We can stop thinking everything will soon be back to normal.

    This pandemic is far from over. The number of new cases nationally continues to rise. People continue to die because of the virus. The search for and production of a treatment will take months. It may take more than a year to develop a vaccine. Those who are working in laboratories and hospitals are moving as fast as they can and are working incredible hours. My worrying and complaining is not going to help them. I can use my emotional and spiritual energies in better ways.

    Even when we take a long view of how this will play out, we hear ourselves and others speak of a “new normal.” I heard a lot of that in 2008 after Hurricane Ike slammed into Galveston Island. What we discovered was that some things were permanently changed. What emerged as the months dragged on was not a new normal but a new reality.

    After this pandemic has passed, what kind of persons do we want to be as we live into the new reality we are bound to experience? How can we look to the uncertain future with hope and purpose? What can we contribute to the new reality? What kind of church are we becoming? How will the lessons we learn in this crisis impact the mission to which God calls us?

    “And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new’” (Revelation 21:5).

    We can plan how to continue.

    “Everyone wants to know when this will end,” said Devi Sridhar, a public-health expert at the University of Edinburgh. “That’s not the right question. The right question is: How do we continue?" That just about sums up the kind of work we need to be doing right now.

    At St. Martin’s, we are engaging in that work. We have recruited a diverse group of people within the parish to help us develop a plan that will define how to continue. Yesterday evening, St. Martin’s Regathering Team had its first video conference. Fourteen of us reviewed the science, the philosophy, the morality, and the theology of how we ought to proceed. We discussed some extremely helpful work that has been shared by the Episcopal Diocese of Texas describing a phase approach that we think we can adapt for our use. We’ll meet again next week. Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, we'll be ready to take the plan to the Vestry and then to the parish. In each phase, church protocols will be determined by health characteristics that apply to our context. We will decide what the health characteristics will be, based on the best scientific and public health guidelines.

    We plan to continue! So, understanding how we continue is paramount.

    We can view our precautions as something we do for the sake of others.

    Charles Kurkul, a physician who is a member of our St. Martin’s Regathering Team, was asked about how effective precautions such as masks and distancing are. He responded by saying, “Seat belts help save lives. So do brakes. Both are more effective when we use them together.”

    We expect that regathering will happen in phases and that numbers of people following precautions will start small and gradually increase as long as the health characteristics are met. Practicing wearing masks and physical distancing while we are apart will make it easier and safer when we gather again.

    When I’ve encountered people complaining about wearing masks and practicing physical distancing, my response has been, “My precautions protect you. Your precautions protect me.” That’s another way of saying, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). It’s also a way of loving God. “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen” (I John 4:20). Love for God and love for our neighbor are defining characteristics of the Christian community and each of its members.

    We can uphold one another.

    Paula Jefferson shared this reflection by Brother Curtis Almquist of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist: “We cannot do it alone. This isn’t private religion. We regularly need to be with other followers of Jesus with whom to pray and praise and worship, to listen and speak, and to sit at table and eat.”

    We long for the time when we are able to gather around the Table at the Eucharistic Banquet. For now, let us uphold one another in ways that are appropriate. Pray for one another daily. Call, send an email or text message, have a video visit, tune in to our online worship services and virtual coffee hour, tell your story and listen to the stories of your sisters and brothers in Christ. There also have been and will be some safe opportunities for outreach to those in need.

    We, who are all in this together during Covidtide, were all together before it started. Limiting contact does not mean limiting care. Let’s care for one another as we continue into the future God will set before us. The Holy Spirit is already preparing the way!

    I close with this beautiful prayer for the Church.

    O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

    – The Book of Common Prayer

    Blessings,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

     

  • Reflections For This Strange Time

    This is a strange time, isn’t it? Our routines, our diets, our outings, our socializing, our church-going, our screen time, our school, our work, our ways of caring, and so many other aspects of our ordinary, day-to-day lives are anything but normal. It is as if we’ve been uprooted and transported to a strange land and some days we wonder what the "new normal" will be like.

    Maybe our feelings about this time are similar to the feelings of the Jews when they were herded off into captivity in Babylon. When they arrived, the Psalmist recalls:

    By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.

    We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof.

    For there they that carried us away captive required of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us mirth, saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion.

    How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?   (Psalm 137:1-4 KJV)

    At first, the Jews resisted and complained about their captive state. Then, the Prophet Jeremiah brought them a message from God, telling them to adjust and seek the welfare of the strange city in which they were forced to live. He promised to eventually bring them back to their homeland. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope" (Jeremiah 29:11 ESV). We know that promise was fulfilled. We also know that, when they did return, what had been familiar a generation or two before was now strange and would never be the same again. They faced a new reality. And God gave them the wisdom and strength they needed to build again – not for the past, but for the future.

    The Babylonian Captivity might be a metaphor for our life today in this strange situation. Like our ancient ancestors in faith, we can look forward to the strange new time ahead of us with confidence that God will be there too, showing us how to live in a new reality.

    A colleague posted a comment the other day about something that occurred to him during his morning Bible study. He said that he came across a reference to the "new reality" of life in Christ and it occurred to him that term is preferable to the "new normal" we often hear about as we think what it will be like after the COVID-19 era is behind us. I, too, prefer that way of speaking and thinking about what lies ahead. After all, we are "new creatures."

    W.H. Auden expressed it this way:

    He is the Way.
    Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
    You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.

    He is the Truth.
    Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
    You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.

    He is the Life.
    Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
    And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.

    (W.H. Auden, For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio.)

    Actually, for the last several weeks of life in the strange land of COVID-19, we haven’t sung the Lord’s song at St. Martin’s, have we? It’s strange for me to worship on a Sunday without either instrumental or vocal music. I’ve been trying to compensate by posting music on Facebook each afternoon. So, I’m glad to be able to announce that our new Organist/Choirmaster, Dr. Joseph Henry, has joined the staff and will be taking up the challenge of offering music in our online services in the days ahead. To begin with, we’ll have the organ. Later, we’ll add some hymns sung by a soloist. Maybe we’ll occasionally sing the Psalm. It is still not going to be the same. There will be an element of strangeness to it. But it will help us to move into the new reality that lies ahead, as God’s people have done so many times before, with faith, hope, and love.

    Blessings,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

    P.S. Here is a recording of the lines above by W.H. Auden. These are the verses of hymn 463 & 464 in the 1982 Hymnal of The Episcopal Church. It is sung by the The Choir of Royal Holloway in a setting by Carson Cooman.

     

  • What’s All That Doubt About?

    The Reverend Ken Kesselus, a colleague in the Diocese of Texas, tells the following story:

    Once when a certain preacher launched into a children’s sermon, she was confronted by a visiting child, an eight-year-old friend of a regular member. The boy was new to this church, but was a regular attendee at another congregation that did not have children’s sermons. Nevertheless, the visitor tried his best to follow the line of the preacher’s effort to connect with the children. Attempting to hook the children with something familiar before making her point, the priest asked the children to identify what she would describe. “What is fuzzy and has a long tail?” No response. “What has big teeth and climbs in trees?” Still no response. After she asked, “What jumps around a lot and gathers nuts and hides them?” the visiting boy could stand the silence no longer. He blurted out, “Look, lady, I know the answer is supposed to be ‘Jesus,’ but it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.”

    Human beings usually want to give the “right” answer, the answer others expect. The eight-year-old boy had more courage than most of us might have had. He acknowledged what he thought others might want him to say, but he found a way to express his doubt.

    Each year on the Second Sunday of Easter, we read the gospel account of St. Thomas the Apostle in which he expresses his own doubt about reports of the Resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-31). He had not been in the company of the other Apostles when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter. When the others told him they had seen the Risen Savior, he couldn’t believe it. He may have wanted to “go along in order to get along” with the others, but he was compelled to express his doubt. He might have said, “I know the answer is supposed to be that I believe you saw Jesus, but it sure sounds like a ghost to me.”

    A week later, Thomas had the opportunity to see for himself and confirm in his own experience that the Risen Christ was not a ghost. But for a period of time, he was skeptical. His questioning and doubting must have been as hard for him as it was for the little boy trying to understand the illustration about the squirrel. Because we too struggle with what may seem clear to others and with accepted norms, we can identify with Thomas and the little boy.
        
    I am grateful to be a part of a Church where it is safe for people to express their doubts and ask their questions and challenge accepted norms. It is a Church where we don’t have to mindlessly accept what seems to be the accepted answer or point of view. It is a Church where it is okay to be doubtful, confused, and skeptical. It is a Church where we can remain in the company of others as we struggle with matters of doubt and faith. It is a Church where from childhood we are encouraged to ask questions and to wonder as we journey toward faith and as we seek the truth.

    The example of Thomas’ honesty and forthrightness fosters hope in us and empowers us in our seasons of doubt. We need that kind of faith community as we wonder where God fits in with harsh and frightening realities of life and death. We need a faith community where we can be encountered by the Risen Christ who can lead us to the truth, just as he led Thomas. In such a community, we can work through our uncertainties and emerge on the other side with an even stronger faith, just as Thomas did.

    The story of Thomas affirms that doubt can give way to faith, just as death is overcome by life. It assures us that the God we worship can handle our doubts and fears. It tells us that honesty is necessary in our relationship with God and God’s own people in times of uncertainty as well as in times of confidence.

    The Apostles were blessed because they saw the Risen Christ and believed. Their subsequent ministry was to nurture faith among others who had not seen. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The ongoing work of this Church is to continue the ministry of the Apostles and foster the even greater blessing that comes from walking by faith. And for every generation of Christians since the first one, if we are honest about it, we have to admit that faith in Jesus Christ requires at least some struggle with doubt.

    That’s really what Easter is all about. We are Easter People, traveling together on a marvelous journey toward those faith-filled moments when we discover the Risen One at work in our lives and in our world – moments so profound that we can only exclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

    Blessings,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

    P.S. Here's an old hymn based on this gospel passage and sung to a new tune by Marty Haugen.

     

     

     

  • A New Commandment

    Today is Maundy Thursday among Western Christians. It is the day we recall the experience of Jesus Christ with his Apostles in the Upper Room on the evening before his death.  Because they were gathered there to celebrate the Passover Seder together, we mainly associate the day with the institution of the Holy Eucharist. 

    But the name for this day is derived from something else that happened in that Upper Room. The English word Maundy in the name for this day of Holy Week is derived from the Latin word mandatum, the first word of the phrase Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos ("I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another."), the statement by Jesus recorded in the Gospel of John 13:34 by which Jesus explained the significance of his action of washing the feet of the Apostles.

    What kind of love has to be commanded? Obviously, the kind of love Jesus expects us to show for one another, which is a reflection of the kind of love Jesus shows for us. We sometimes call it "Love Divine" because it is the kind of love that is natural for God. It is not so natural for humans, so we have to be made conscious of the importance of it.  We have to be commanded.

    I once heard a sermon in which the preacher, in speaking about the Great Commandment, referred to Jesus as "the Commander." It is intriguing to think of Jesus Christ as "the Commander."

    ElissaAn analogy formed in my mind from my experience sailing on Elissa, the official Tall Ship of Texas. Elissa is a three-masted, iron-hulled sailing ship built in 1877 in Aberdeen, Scotland by Alexander Hall & Company. She carries nineteen sails covering over one-quarter of an acre in surface area. Her home port is Galveston, Texas and from there she sails from time to time during the year, usually on day sails, with a crew of dedicated and sturdy volunteers.

    Originally, her crew consisted of about five or six. These days, the ship's crew is made up of about twenty-five. Twenty-four crew members sail her and one crew member is the cook. The Captain of the ship is usually brought in from some other part of the country to command the crew. He stands above the deck in a place where he can see where the ship is headed, where the crew members are deployed, and the position of all the sails. From that vantage point, he shouts commands such as "on the main," "on the fore," "batten down the hatches," and "come about." After the command is given, the crew members responsible for carrying it out shout it back to the commander, indicating that they not only heard the command but are carrying it out. This amazing litany of command and response onboard a massive sailing vessel makes it possible for the ship to sail on course and safely reach her destination.

    Jesus Christ, our Commander, gives the command to love one another just as he has loved us. The response he awaits is for us not only to let him know we have heard the command, but to carry it out. "If you know these things," he promises, "you are blessed if you do them" (John 13:17).

    Although it is a very long way from the image of Jesus bending down to wash the feet of his crew to the image of a naval commander shouting instructions to his, I believe there are many similarities when it comes to fulfilling a mission. Jesus issued the Great Commandment with a clear vision from a unique vantage point. The cooperation and welfare of his crew on their journey and safe arrival at a particular destination were his primary concerns. His own obedience to the mission was an inspiration to those from he sought obedience. Teamwork, cooperation, and oneness are necessary to complete the mission of a sailing vessel as well as the mission of Jesus Christ. His Great Commandment is still essential in carrying out his Great Commission.

    If we want the world to believe in our Savior, we have to learn to fulfill his command. The way his love is lived out among his followers in word and action is our most authentic and believable witness. If doing for one another what he has done for us were so simple, he would never have put it into the form of a command.

    Now that we know these things…

    Blessings,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

  • Holy Week: A Time to Remember Who and Whose We Are

    In Baptism, we are incorporated into the Paschal Mystery. That is, we are incorporated into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. His life is our life. His death is our death. His resurrection is our resurrection. It is for this reason that Christians observe Holy Week every year. It is a commemoration intended to put us in touch with that life which the world can neither give nor take away. It is a time to look at the Paschal Mystery and to recover our true identity, our authentic self, in him.

    Five hundred years before Jesus rode into Jerusalem, Zechariah prophesied that the Messiah would be a king. Since the time of the Exile, no Jewish ruler had borne the title of king. “Look, your king is coming to you. Rejoice, rejoice, people of Zion” (Zech. 9:9). The time was just right and the people were happy on that first Palm Sunday to acknowledge it.

    They wished to crown him their king. In their enthusiasm, they missed the paradox. They saw the glory but overlooked the shadow. But Jesus was conscious of both.

    Palm-CrossHe knew who he was, so the acclamations of the crowd did not impress him. He saw that their palm branches cast the shadow of a cross. He sensed that the kingly crown they were offering to him that day would become a crown of thorns by the end of the week. Jesus knew that the identity the world offered was not a secure identity, not a legitimate identity, and certainly not a dependable identity. No, for Jesus, the only true identity is consciousness of who we are in the eyes of our Creator.

    To the disciples, on the next weekend, it must have looked like the world’s biggest failure, a cruel joke. Imagine being sucked in to a group like “the Twelve.” To them “the Way” must have appeared more like a primrose path. Because they were still so dependent upon the things of the world for their sense of identity, they had to be the most embarrassed people around Jerusalem.

    Then came Easter. Out of the tomb came the Risen Messiah with his identity still intact. “He is risen!” is shorthand for Jesus’ message of resurrection:

    Behold, I have overcome the world. Behold, I died and I am alive. Behold, who you are need never again depend upon who you know, what you wear, where you live, what you do, how much you possess, or even what people say about you. Because I live, you will live also. You will experience new life in me and you will be able to face the popularity contest the world is running with confidence that you don’t really have to enter it in order to find out who you are. Here is my crown. It is yours! Take it! And believe me when I tell you that this crown of glory, which is both mine and yours, will never fade away. 

    Who and whose we truly are – that’s what Holy Week and Easter are all about. This Holy Week will be quite different for Christians around the world because of the COVID-19 Pandemic. We will miss our gatherings, palm waving, foot washing, darkness and light, and all of the other tokens of his passion, death, and resurrection. Instead, we will gather virtually in front of our computer and television screens. This extraordinary time will teach us new things and, perhaps, help us see ourselves in a new light. When we emerge on the other side of this pandemic, we will never be the same. But we will still have our identity intact as children of God and heirs of God's amazing grace through faith in Jesus Christ – the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

    Guard your health, stay out of harm's way, and remember who and whose you are.

    Blessings,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

     

  • What then are we to say about these things?

    NBC News carried a report on Wednesday of this week concerning a so-called Bible teacher who is claiming that this coronavirus pandemic is the consequence of God’s wrath having been ignited by “gays, people with depraved minds, and environmentalists.” Before this is over, I’m sure we will be subjected to more of the same kind of wild declarations. I don’t know who is more dangerous; the people who say such things or the people who believe them.

    Alas, there have always been and perhaps always will be those who believe God uses events such as pandemics and natural disasters to punish humanity and those who try to pinpoint the end of history when God’s judgment will be rendered.

    These issues have been around so long we even have terms for theological discourse concerning them. For example, Theodicy attempts to deal with how and why a benevolent God allows evil and suffering. And, Eschatology is the study of questions about the final events of history or the ultimate destiny of humanity.

    Our response to human tragedy and our beliefs about God’s intentions probably say more about our own personality and outlook on life than about God. It is understandable when people are hurting and need to assign blame for the events that caused harm. And people whose experience of life involves heavy doses of righteous indignation and divine retribution naturally want God to take charge and straighten out everybody they disapprove of.

    For my own part, I’m impressed with the complexity of the physical universe. The more science discovers about things like quarks, chaos, leptons, and pheromones, the more my view of the Divine Being expands. Why would God go to so much trouble just to perplex humanity and then to destroy us?  Isn’t it just as likely that God created all things for good and gave human beings the resources to discover ways to cherish and protect creation and its creatures? For me, life is one big epiphany!

    When I peer into suffering, I see the God of compassion not causing harm but caring for those who are hurting. When I ponder the end of history, what comes to mind is not a so-called “rapture” or celestial supreme court, but instead a cosmic “Ah-ha” experience in which “every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess” (Isaiah 45:23, Romans 14:11, and Philippians 2:10,11).

    The issues are far from settled and the discourse will continue. Those who need a wrathful God and an end of things characterized by judgment and retribution have plenty of preachers and churches to reinforce their viewpoints. But I am grateful to be a part of a church that believes “the universe is good, that it is the work of a single loving God who creates, sustains, and directs it” (BCP, 846). I am privileged to foster a view of the Christian hope, which is “to live with confidence in newness and fullness of life, and await the coming of Christ in glory, and the completion of God’s purpose for the world” (BCP, 861).

    St. Paul says it so beautifully in these words from the Letter to the Romans: “What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?… Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?… No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:31, 35, 37-39).

    Here is a prayer from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer that I invite you to pray during this difficult time.

    In Time of Great Sickness and Mortality.

    O most mighty and merciful God, in this time of grievous sickness, we flee unto thee for succour. Deliver us, we beseech thee, from our peril; give strength and skill to all those who minister to the sick; prosper the means made use of for their cure; and grant that, perceiving how frail and uncertain our life is, we may apply our hearts unto that heavenly wisdom which leadeth to eternal life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (Page 45, The Book of Common Prayer, 1928)

    God bless and protect you and those whom you love.

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

  • Righteousness and Rewards

    The Gospel for The Fourth Sunday in Lent this year is John 9:1-41. Jesus seems to give a non-answer to a very serious question about a blind man’s suffering.

    Rabbi Harold Kushner's book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, was a best seller. In the book, the rabbi addresses the haunting question about the correlation between sin and suffering, about righteousness and rewards. Rabbi Kushner says it all has to do with luck. There is good luck and there is bad luck – neither of which is dependent upon a person's goodness or badness. There is a kind of randomness to life.

    Today, we want explanations, answers that make sense to us and reassure us that we are okay. Thousands perish of AIDS and famine in Africa, people are crushed in an earthquake in Haiti or Chile, hurricanes destroy lives and property in Puerto Rico and the British Virgin Islands, floodwaters destroy people's homes, terrorists gun down innocent people in the streets, and the Coronavirus Pandemic casts a pall of sickness, unemployment, economic calamity, and death across our planet. How can God be good and still allow bad things like these to inflict good people like us?

    Jesus' own disciples asked him questions like that. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus didn't take Rabbi Kushner's approach. In today's climate, Jesus wouldn't win any awards in the pastoral care department either. He said, “Neither. This man was born blind so that the glory of God might be revealed.” Consistently, Jesus denies any direct correlation between the kind of person you are and what happens to you. In another instance he declares that, God “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45).

    Why did this happen to me? Probably, for no good reason. Bad things happen to the good and the bad all the time. The notion that only good things happen to good people was put to rest when they crucified Jesus. Now, this same Jesus takes our question and makes it cruciform: can you trust God – in joy or in pain – to be your God? Can you love God without linking your love to the cards life deals you?

    And then, we have televangelists who tell us that this pandemic is divine retribution for some views people have on various social issues. They want us to believe that if we don’t agree with their particular view of things, God will smite somebody at random and it will be our fault. That’s a pretty scary way to look at our God.

    God's love carries no promises about good or bad save the promise that God will not allow anything worse to happen to you than happened to God’s own Son and that beyond sickness and death, life is changed, not ended.

    Saint Augustine of Hippo mused over the great suffering that occurred when the barbarians sacked Rome. He noted in his City of God that when the barbarians raped and pillaged, Christians suffered just as much as non-Christians. Faith in Christ did not make them immune to pain and tragedy. Augustine wrote, “Christians differ from Pagans, not in the ills which befall them but in what they do with the ills that befall them.” The Christian faith does not give us a way around tragedy. It gives us a way through it!

    What do we do with our neat little distinctions in a church where we think being nice is the way to salvation? God's sunshine and rain keep blurring them! This is the way God responds to our questions – not with answers that flatter us, or make the world simpler than it really is, but with God’s life given for us, that we might more fully give our lives to God.

    So, during this time of anxiety, let's look for ways for God might be manifested in our lives and ways God can use us to bring peace and calm and hope to others. We don’t know how long this social distancing will last nor do we know the full impact of this health crisis. Gathering together is central to how we have always done Church but we can't do it right now. We are trying to learn and practice more and new ways to be Church when we can’t physically meet together. Worship will be streamed by video each weekend we are apart. Our clergy and pastoral care ministry are reaching out to people in the parish who are vulnerable. We are encouraging everyone to connect to our online directory (Breeze). We've set up a Helping Hands Network in order to learn who needs to receive help and who is willing to provide help. Groups are meeting via video, teleconferences, and email chains. When we need to get important information out, we will be more redundant than usual, employing a variety of avenues including social media, email, voicemail, and text messaging.

    If you have put off learning how to use new technology in order to communicate with others, please, please find someone to help you learn what you need to do today! We need to see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices. This situation is not likely to be over for months. Our faith compels and equips us to find the way through this and do it together!

    Blessings,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

     

  • What Does Love Require of Us?

    Yesterday, after taking counsel with the Office of the Bishop, other clergy, our staff, our Wardens, and our Vestry, I made the decision to suspend in-person worship and meetings at St. Martin’s for the next two weeks in response to the Coronavirus Pandemic. This was a complicated and difficult decision on so many levels. The question that led me at last to the decision is, “What does love require of us?”

    Maybe the reason that question came to mind is because during Lent, at the beginning of our Eucharistic celebrations, we are following the long-standing practice of reciting Jesus’ summary of the Law:

    Jesus said, “The first commandment is this: Hear, O Israel: The Lord your God is the only Lord. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.”    Mark 12:29-31

    How will this decision express Love Divine in our parish and to our neighbors in the wider community?

    The answer came clearly into focus as I read and listened to comments from those whose counsel I sought. Loving one another, and especially the most vulnerable among us, requires us to do what we can to at least slow the spread of the Coronavirus so that our healthcare system is not overloaded. It is one response we can make to nationwide calls for social distancing. Taking such steps doesn’t mean that fewer people will be infected; it means that when hospitalization and medical attention are needed there will be capacity in the system. We have only to look at the situation in Italy to see what happens when the healthcare system is overloaded.

    The media are referring to this objective as “flattening the curve.” Here’s a chart that helps explain it:

    IMG_3004

    We will miss seeing one another. Worship is central to our life together. But our worship includes what goes on in our lives beyond the building. For example, on Ash Wednesday, we began our Lenten fast with the reading of Isaiah 58:6-12, which reminds us that our fasts must take into consideration our care for others. The Prophet Amos reminds us that our feasts must also involve justice and righteousness (Amos 5:21-24). So, whether fasting or feasting, our worship of God leads us to loving actions for the sake of others.

    I made the decision to suspend in-person worship and meetings for two weeks in light of the many vulnerable people who are members of our parish and their friends and families. Such steps may not be best for other worshiping communities. There are many ways to spread Love Divine. We’re just doing what we can in the hope that it will contribute to the well-being of those who are vulnerable.

    We will be broadcasting worship on the internet and details about how to access the video link are being sent out today. We have made arrangements for our ministries to hold virtual meetings using the ZOOM video platform. We will be communicating in a variety of ways, including the use of our existing mass email program, mass text messages to those whose mobile phone numbers we have, and recorded phone messages. The parish office is not closing and will be accessible under the normal schedule.

    I’ll close with some advice from Bishop Scott Mayer: “Pray for one another. Stay calm. And wash your hands.”

    A Prayer for Quiet Confidence

    O God of peace, who hast taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and confidence shall be our strength: By the might of thy Spirit lift us, we pray thee, to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou art God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

    Book of Common Prayer, p. 832

    Blessings and Health to you and yours,

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas

  • New Life Requires Risk and Trust

    The readings for this Sunday are filled with images of renewal – new birth, new life, new creation. These images imply that God’s promise for new life entails God’s gift of a fresh start, freed from the restrictions of our past lives in order to enter a new relationship with God through the power of the Holy Spirit.

    Lent is a time for engaging our new life in Christ more deeply, risking new levels of trust. The purpose of Lent is not to dwell on suffering, or to spend forty days bewailing our manifold sins and wickedness for the sake of feeling our pain. Lent is about engaging in the ongoing process of renewal, regeneration, and new birth; it is about encouraging us to trust and to risk going forth and being sent out with the promise of new life.

    Lent may require us to “think outside the box” of piety and religiosity, just as Abram and Sarai had to break with their past, and the Pharisees Saul and Nicodemus with theirs. The promises of God bear not only upon the future of our individual lives in relationship to God, but also upon the future of our parish, our diocese, and our Church as a whole

    To respond to the promise for new life means we have to be ready to redraw and rename the places on the journey. When the ancient ones told the story of Abram and Sarai, they were also inscribing new place names and creating a new social geography on the territories of their migrations in company with God.

    God may be inviting us to rethink how we do Church in light of the socio-geographies of the times we live in. When Saul the Pharisee became Paul the Apostle as we know him, he brought new words, images, and new community structures into being, “calling into existence things which do not exist,” by trustfully following Jesus into new life.

    Lent is for listening to that call in our own lives. In the words of James Russell Lowell, “New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth.” Lent is for careful thinking about how to step into the as-yet-unmapped future, to deepen our relationship to God, to trust the picture of new life in Christ, and for identifying the breaks with the past that we need to make in order to respond to the promises of God.

    I'll see you in Church!

    Ron Short Blue Sig Cropped

     

     

     

     

    The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
    Interim Rector
    St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
    Keller, Texas