Tag: Trinity Episcopal Church in Lawrence Kansas

Dearly Anointed Ones

For many centuries, Easter was the principal date for Baptisms. The season of Lent was the time of preparation for baptismal candidates and a time for the faithful who are already baptized to remember their own formation as followers of the Risen Christ.

Following the the Sacrament of Holy Baptism with water and in the name of the Holy Trinity, the Bishop or Priest places a hand on the person's head and makes the sign of the cross with Chrism, a fragrant oil that has been blessed by the Bishop as Apostle and chief missionary of a diocese. During this action, the following words are said: "N., you are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ's own for ever." And the people respond, "Amen."

We usually have plenty to say about the significance of water in Holy Baptism, but we seldom mention the significance of Chrism. Our English word Chrism is derived from the Greek word χρίσμα, meaning ointment or anointment. The same Greek word is the root for "Christ" and means "anointed one" – Jesus is the Anointed One.

The Episcopal Church liturgy for consecration of this oil provides a brief but helpful explanation. However, since the consecration of Chrism is reserved to the Bishop, the liturgy usually happens only once a year at a time when few people are present to witness it. Yesterday, at Grace Cathedral in Topeka, Bishop Wolfe presided over a service that included consecration of Chrism. We heard the Bishop give this introduction:

Dear Friends in Christ: In the beginning, the Spirit of God hovered over the creation; and, throughout history, God, by the gift of the Holy Spirit, he empowered his people to serve him. As a sign of that gift, the priests and kings of Israel were anointed with oil; and our Lord Jesus was himself anointed with the Holy Spirit at his Baptism as the Christ, God's own Messiah. At Baptism, Christians are likewise anointed by that same Spirit to empower them for God's service. Let us now set apart this oil to be the sign of that anointing.

The Bishop then placed a hand on the vessel of oil and prayed

Eternal Father, whose blessed Son was anointed by the
Holy Spirit to be the Savior and servant of all, we pray you to
consecrate this oil, that those who are sealed with it may
share in the royal priesthood of Jesus Christ; who lives and
reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.

So, in Holy Baptism our sins are washed away. We are included in God's covenant, joined with the Risen Christ, and given the seal (guarantee) of the Holy Spirit, who will continue to work in us. When we rise from the waters of Bapitsm, we receive an outward anointing that assures us of our inward anointing. This act establishes our true identity. We are royalty, the adopted sons and daughters of the Sovereign of the Universe! We are "marked as Christ's own for ever."

Living into that identity is an opportunity for daily epiphanies, dearly anointed ones.

April 1, 2010
March 25 ~ The Annunciation

The Annunciation
Luke 1:26-38

So much of our conversation regarding faith is centered on what each of us is doing about it. We are preoccupied with human liberty, some notion of “the individual,” and overly concerned with the subjective experience of God. We tend to want to play the leading role in the story, which we are writing, and we offer God a supporting role in a cast of thousands. We like to be in control of our universe.

The Annunciation is a reminder to me that what I'm doing about my faith is always in response to what God is first doing in my life, even when I'm not thinking of it in that way. God sent Gabriel to make an announcement to Mary about the role she would play in God's story, not to ask her to "volunteer."
Like Mary, we are often perplexed when God enters our lives uninvited and calls us to do what seems humanly impossible.

Reflect with me on that thought today in pursuit of a more God-centered and objective life of faith.

St. Augustine was aware of the divine initiative when he wrote, “Thou didst strike on my heart with Thy word and I loved Thee.” – from Confessions (397-398 A.D.) If you know anything about Augustine's life, you know he started out as a very self-absorbed and strong-willed individual. It would take a major epiphany to get his attention. God's undeserved grace knocked on Augustine's heart and by God's grace he was able to love God in response.

C.S. Lewis offers this perspective:

Christianity “does not tell of a human search for God at all, but of something done by God for, to, and about Man. And the way in which it is done is selective, undemocratic, to the highest degree. After the knowledge of God had been universally lost or obscured, one man from the whole earth (Abraham) is picked out. He is separated (miserably enough, we may suppose) from his natural surroundings, sent into a strange country, and made the ancestor of a nation who are to carry the knowledge of the true God. Within this nation there is further selection: some die in the desert, some remain behind in Babylon. There is further selection still. The process grows narrower and narrower, sharpens at last into one small bright point like the head of a spear. It is a Jewish girl at her prayers. All humanity (so far as concerns its redemption) has narrowed to that” (Chapter 14, Miracles:A Preliminary Study, Harper Collins, 2001).

And, because I love the poetry and music of our faith so much, this 19th Century hymn comes to mind:

I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew
he moved my soul to seek him, seeking me;
it was not I that found, O Savior true;
no, I was found of thee.

Thou didst reach forth thy hand and mine enfold;
I walked and sank not on the storm-vexed sea;
'twas not so much that I on thee took hold,
as thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find, I walk, I love, but oh, the whole
of love is but my answer, Lord, to thee;
for thou wert long beforehand with my soul,
always thou lovedst me.

Maybe today would be a good day to say with Mary, “Let it be with me according to your word.”

March 25, 2010
The Prodigal God

This year's Fourth Sunday in Lent readings from Joshua 5 and Luke 15 echo the words of Psalm 32: "Happy are those whose transgressions are forgiven" (Ps. 32:1).

Both Joshua 5 and Luke 15 deal with wandering. The nation wanders in the wilderness due to disobedience. The youngest son wanders in a different kind of wilderness, lost in disgrace. In both stories, the wanderers make their way back home out of the wilderness, but neither the nation nor the youngest son finds relief from the disgrace that has resulted from disobedience and wandering. It is only the absolution by the "other" (God in Joshua 5; the father in Luke 15) that redeems their past. "Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt." "This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!" Each absolution is followed by a feast. In both cases, the feast symbolizes that the shame of wandering has been replaced with the promise of a new life.

This is the story of God's love affair with us, isn't it? God gives us the world / we'd rather have another one / it turns out to be a pathetic substitute / we find ourselves lost, alone, ashamed / we try to find our way back into God's embrace / God finds us groping around in the darkness, welcomes us home, and throws a banquet.

Notice that the story of our redemption is not simply that we are saved, forgiven, absolved from something. We are saved, forgiven, absolved for something. Our liturgy conveys that message in many ways, but none so well as in the words of Absolution, "Almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you all your sins through our Lord Jesus Christ, strengthen you in all goodness, and by the power of the Holy Spirit keep you in eternal life."

After we receive the assurance of God's pardon, we are promised that God will also strengthen us in goodness and keep us in eternal life. Our life has a purpose and that purpose is clarified for us when we are in communion with God. That's because, as the collect for last Sunday puts it, "we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves."

To be "kept in eternal life" is to live in the kingdom of God, the realm where God is in charge and where a life giving feast is always waiting.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

The word "prodigal" means "spendthrift." In both stories of wandering
from Joshua and from Luke, it is God who is the true prodigal.

March 11, 2010
Fasting and Feasting During Lent

Here's a wonderful way to keep a Holy Lent, by William Arthur Ward:

    •    Fast from judging others; Feast on the Christ dwelling in them.
    •    Fast from emphasis on differences; Feast on the unity of life.
    •    Fast from apparent darkness; Feast on the reality of light.
    •    Fast from thoughts of illness; Feast on the healing power of God.
    •    Fast from words that pollute; Feast on phrases that purify.
    •    Fast from discontent; Feast on gratitude.
    •    Fast from anger; Feast on patience.
    •    Fast from pessimism; Feast on optimism.
    •    Fast from worry; Feast on divine order.
    •    Fast from complaining; Feast on appreciation.
    •    Fast from negatives; Feast on affirmatives.
    •    Fast from unrelenting pressures; Feast on unceasing prayer.
    •    Fast from hostility; Feast on non-resistance.
    •    Fast from bitterness; Feast on forgiveness.
    •    Fast from self-concern; Feast on compassion for others.
    •    Fast from personal anxiety; Feast on eternal truth.
    •    Fast from discouragements; Feast on hope.
    •    Fast from facts that depress; Feast on verities that uplift.
    •    Fast from lethargy; Feast on enthusiasm.
    •    Fast from thoughts that weaken; Feast on promises that inspire.
    •    Fast from shadows of sorrow; Feast on the sunlight of serenity.
    •    Fast from idle gossip; Feast on purposeful silence.
    •    Fast from problems that overwhelm; Feast on prayer that [strengthens].

—William Arthur Ward (American author, teacher and pastor, 1921-1994.)

March 7, 2010
What do Christians mean when we use the word faith?
What do Christians mean when we use the word faith? Often, we are speaking of a set of beliefs or doctrines. But there is a more important meaning without which all our doctrines and words are empty.

That more important meaning has to do with hearing and responding to God when God reaches out to us, offering us a promise, wooing us, calling us into a living redemptive relationship. Scriptures for the Second Sunday in Lent this year reveal a pattern having to do with God's invitation into a covenant relationship and our response to it. It is a pattern duplicated in dozens of similar stories throughout the Bible. And, it is a pattern we can recognize in our own lives today. It goes like this:
- God calls, promising to use our lives for God's high purposes.
- The recipient of the call expresses fear, doubt, or anxiety.
- Then comes divine reassurance.
- Finally, there is a faithful response to the promise of God.
We see it in the life of Abraham and Sarah. We see it in the life of Moses. We see it in the life of Jeremiah. We see it in the life of Mary and Joseph. We see it in the Apostle Paul.

And, of course, we see it in the life of Jesus. In his baptism and on the mount of Transfiguration there is the call. In the wilderness there is the question and the divine reassurance that comes to him. Then, there is the faithful response.

When we meet Jesus in this Sunday's Gospel reading (Luke 13:31-35), he is ministering to people up in the Galilean territory. Some friendly Pharisees have come to warn him that the tetrarch of that region, Herod Antipas, son of Herod the Great, is out to get him. They urge him to leave the area. He gives them a response that is to Herod but also to God. "I will finish what I need to do here but then I am going on my way to Jerusalem where my work will be fulfilled." He does not let either the warning of his friends or the threat of his foe deter him from what God has called him to do and the promise which lies before him.

In his book, Living Faith While Holding Doubts, Martin B. Copenhaver writes, "There are times when we must make a 100% commitment to something about which we are only 51% certain" (Pilgrim Press: Cleveland, OH, 1989).

But let's be clear about something. Faith, in this sense, is not a momentary phenomenon, an act at one point in time. Faith is a long-term trust, a committed, continuous response to the promises of God. Out of real doubts and deep questions, Abram ventures forth with God. The venturing forth does not erase those doubts and questions. Rather, he gathers up his doubts and stumbles on behind God into a future on the basis of nothing but the promise. This is what we Christians mean when we say, "faith."

John Dillenberger says that in Christianity, the term faith refers to the "dynamic and vital stance of the believer's dependence on God…faith is a living confidence and trust in God in the experience of knowing God's gracious presence as manifest in Christ…a reality that one would not have unearthed by oneself but that has come to be present as a sort of miracle, a happening that encompasses but does not seem to be dependent either on one's seeking or on fleeing the divine (A New Handbook of Christian Theology, Nashville: Abingdon, 1992, p.182).

God promised Abraham that he would be a blessing to all the people of the earth and that the promise would be extended to his descendants forever. The old Rabbis used to teach that when God promised Abraham that his descendants would be like the dust, he was referring not only to numbers but to the fact that they would outlast those who trampled upon them. St. Paul tells us that all who trust God the way Abraham did are his descendants, not just those who have his genes. Jesus shows us that the way of the cross is the way of faith. God's promise of a relationship, a peace surpassing understanding, a permanent place at the banquet table of our heavenly Father, is absolutely dependable.

When God calls to you, how do you answer? With doubts, anxieties, fears? You are not alone! But can you listen beyond them to God's reassuring voice, calling you to trust God to lead you through them, perhaps even to use those obstacles to faith as bridges into the future where he is trying to get you to go with him? Can you say, I'm 51% sure, Lord, but I'll trust you with the other 49%? If you can, you are not far from the kingdom of God.
February 25, 2010
What’s wrong with being a “volunteer?”

Some people have noticed that I prefer not to use the word "volunteer" in the church. Perhaps it seems a little picky on my part, but the words we use are important. Sometimes, we need to stop and reflect on our choice of words and consider whether there are other words that better describe the meaning we intend to convey. There are times when our vocabulary needs to change to fit our beliefs and convictions. In the church, it is useful for us to have a common vocabulary that reflects shared beliefs, shared values, and shared calling.

So, what is wrong with "volunteer?" America certainly could not get along without volunteers and I often serve as a volunteer. In fact, tonight I am going to be a volunteer sitting on a board of review for a young man who has completed the requirements to become an Eagle Scout. Some people volunteered to do that for me long ago. I recently volunteered to participate in the C.R.O.P. walk. My resume contains a long list of volunteer activities in which I have enthusiastically participated through the years. I am a big believer in being a volunteer. There is nothing wrong with being a volunteer. In fact, there is something wrong with not being a volunteer.

However, our roles in the Body of Christ have different meaning and significance. To volunteer is to choose to become involved in something because we agree with the cause and decide to participate. Our life in Christ is not based upon our choice but upon our having been chosen. Jesus said, "You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another" (Jn. 15:16-17). So, whatever we do in the service of Christ, in or out of the church, is because we have been chosen, called, and appointed by Christ, not because we "volunteered." Yes, the human will is involved. But it is involved in a distinctly and qualitatively different way.

Picky? Maybe. But to be a disciple, a missionary, a minister, a member of "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people" takes each of us beyond volunteerism. Through Baptism, we have been incorporated into Christ's Body. Think with me about that. Did your eye volunteer itself into its socket? Did your heart decide to take on its purpose in your breast? Does your hand decide to carry out the tasks assigned to it? We have an organic relationship with Christ and with the other members of his Body.

It is good to be a volunteer. Our world is a better place because of volunteers. But when it comes to our role as followers of Jesus Christ, the word "volunteer" is inadequate to describe the magnitude and wonder of that vocation. "Volunteer" just doesn't go far enough to get the job done. As Christians, more is given to us and more is required of us.

Read more about our amazing vocation in the 12th Chapter of the Letter to the Romans.

October 29, 2009
Holy Conversations

What comes to mind when you hear the expression "Holy Conversation?" Do you think of sanctimonious people talking about loving Jesus? Do you think of participation in a Bible study or prayer group? Do you think of a conversation with a spiritual director?

A "Holy Conversation" might be any of those things. However, I'd like to suggest one other way of thinking of a conversation as "holy." A "Holy Conversation" might be any purposeful conversation we have with another person in which we mutually strengthen, uplift, and encourage one another in a relationship with God. Conversations among
the followers of Jesus are nothing new! Jesus had some
things to say about the tone and content of such conversations.

The disciples were having a conversation with one another as they followed Jesus toward his base of operations in Capernaum. Actually, it was more of an argument than a conversation. That's what Jesus called it; an argument. "What were you arguing about on the way?" he asked them.

They were silent because they had been arguing about who would be greatest when Jesus established his reign. Those who were closest to Jesus just didn't understand the kind of ruler he intended to be.

Jesus didn't scold them. He gently turned the argument about power, privilege, and authority into a "Holy Conversation" about servanthood. He not only talked to them about servanthood, he demonstrated what it looks like. "Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, 'Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.'” (Mk. 9:36-37) The King of the Universe became the servant of a child! See?

That's what what can happen when a conversation turns "holy."

September 17, 2009
How Salty Are You?

Jesus said, "Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another." (Mk. 9:50) Commenting on this passage, Robert Schuller once said, "Christians need to be just salty enough to make others thirsty."

The point of this passage and of Dr. Schuller's commentary is that a relationship with Jesus Christ provides a quality of spirit for us that we can't get anywhere else, that causes other people to know something profound has happened to us, and draws others to the source. Something about Jesus has rubbed off on us and it is obvious. Not obnoxious, but obvious. One might describe it as something so desirable and valuable that we'd go out of our way to find it and spend any amount to obtain it. When we have it, it adds flavor to our lives and the lives of those around us. When it is not there, something is missing.

Because of our faith, we bring an important ingredient to the world and to the culture in which we live. Instead of simply being consumers, we are called and gifted to be contributors. We influence the way things are instead of simply "going along to get along." Our life in Christ makes us salty and our saltiness gives flavor wherever we go.

I've known some salty Christians in my life. My grandfather was one of them. In his retirement, he made several trips to the corner store every day to buy groceries. He walked. When I was visiting my grandparents, he would usually invite me to go along. I enjoyed those walks but wondered why he didn't just get organized, make a list, and get the shopping done in one trip. Then, one day a friend who lived on my grandparents' street told me at school that she always looked forward to seeing my grandfather because he would stop and talk. She said he always took an interest in her and made her feel happy. His multiple walks to the corner store were not arranged for practicality, but for fulfilling his calling to touch the lives of people along the way. My grandfather was a salty Christian! I hope I can be as salty as he was.

How salty are you?

September 17, 2009