The still Hawai'ian night

It happens every time I'm here.

It amazes me every time.

This is my fourth visit to Hawai'i - my first in the summer. I'm surprised at the mild weather. It's actually more comfortable than some summer days in New Jersey.

Mostly, I've been here in February or March to visit my friend Rob. The airfares are much more affordable, and it's a great way to prepare for Lent.

The climate then is very much like the mild temperatures of a New England summer. There's a gentle rain in the morning and perhaps in the afternoon which appears as the sun continues to shine.

It's as if The Creator God is also The Sacred Gardner, carefully tending to the beauty of Paradise with a gentle spritz of water. A magnificent rainbow - or two - usually appears right after the rain stops.

I figure it's just Mother Nature's way of giving thanks to God. And, maybe, just maybe, showing off a little (I mean, can you blame her, really?).

It's funny, but you get used to it.

I remember the very first time I came here. Rob drove me home from the airport, and as I got out of the car and looked out from the carport, I saw the most breathtaking view of Diamond Head with two - count them, two - vibrant, beautiful rainbows.

I gasped and said, "Oh, Rob, look! It's beautiful!"

Rob looked, expressionless, at the vista before us and deadpanned, "Yeah, that's the second one today. There'll be a few more before the day is over. Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

Part of that is just Rob's sense of humor ("He's an acquired taste," someone said to me yesterday. She now loves him as much as I do.). Another part is that, unfortunately, is true.

I always get excited when I see my first rainbow on my return visit here. Two days later, I simply call out from the back seat, "Oh, look! A rainbow." Everyone looks up, smiles and renders silent approval, but no one gasps or applauds the way we all do when we first arrive.

And yet, it continues. Boundlessly. Effortlessly. Endlessly. Reminds me of the introduction to the song, "Pennies from Heaven." ('A long time ago / A million years BC / The best things in life /Were absolutely free. . . .') Listen to it when you have a chance. The song will make much more sense to you then.

Perhaps this is the reason I am now more astounded by the Hawai'ian night.

I've never slept in air conditioning while in Hawai'i. Don't need it. Just open a few windows or a sliding glass door and the gentle trade winds will come in and caress you and cool you all through the night.

Except, there is always this time . . . this moment . . . when everything is suddenly still. I always awaken - even out of a sound sleep - to hear it.

Yes, that's right. I awaken to hear the silence.

It happens sometime between two and four AM. Suddenly, I'm aware that there is no breeze. I feel mildly uncomfortable with the heat, but certainly not enough to awaken a peaceful sleep.

It's the silence that arouses me from the depths of my sleep and interrupts my dreams. It's the fullest, loudest silence I have ever heard.

Everything is still. I can not discern even the slightest movement of air.

The silence, I have discovered, is full of expectancy. I half-wait for a sound. Dare I say it? A voice. Or, at least a very loud thought.

Sometimes, it comes. Once, I heard a gentle, loving voice say, "Go back to sleep, now." And I did. Instantly. And slept, as they say in Ghana, "Like a foolish man."

Once, I heard a segment of a sentence that didn't have any logic, rhyme or reason. At least, in that moment. Later that week, I was in a situation and found that I was using those very words as part of a sentence that was enormously helpful. I was deeply, deeply grateful for the gift that came to me that night.

Mostly, though, there is simply silence - the kind with a deep, peaceful beauty we rarely get to experience in our post-modern, chaotic lives. The only response is to sit silently, reverently.

And, when it ends, to give thanks and praise to God for the sacred gift it is.

It is the sort of stillness of which I suspect God first spoke to Moses, the prophets and the psalmist: "Be still and know that I am God."

It is, I suspect, an earthly experience of "the peace of God which passes all human understanding."

It is like that picture at the top of this post. In case you didn't recognize it, that is a sunflower, waiting to bloom. It is vibrantly green, full and ripe and ready to open to face life with new life. You can feel the energy, almost detect the movement as you look on it in this moment, and yet it is perfectly still.

We can not possibly tell the amazing beauty that is about to burst forth, except we know that it will. Perhaps this is why there is so much natural beauty here - because of this stillness - this expectant waiting - this moment to pause and give glory to God for all of creation.

I love the long, wonderful days of outrageously abundant beauty here in Hawai'i. It is the stillness of the Hawai'ian night, however, that will keep me coming back - even if only in the memories of my heart.

No coincidence

There is a sign posted on one of the windows of St. Clement's Day School, here in Honolulu.

I noticed it the first time I came through the church court yard. It stops me in my tracks every time I pass by it to come to my friend Rob's apartment.

It says this:

"You can't teach a child by telling him what to do."

I don't think it's a coincidence that this is a Day School of The Episcopal Church, do you?

It's a tough life, but somebody's gotta live it.

Well, I arrived in Honolulu at 6 PM Tuesday evening, but in my body it was midnight.

It's now 4 AM in Chatham but only 10 PM on The Big Island.

I'm here for the REALLY BIG CELEBRATION of my dear friend Rob's retirement from active ministry and subsequent move to Bangkok, Thailand. Rob was the rector of my initially sponsoring congregation and chaired the Commission on Ministry when I was going through the ordination process.

He has become a treasured friend, lo these 26 years later. The festivities begin with a MAJOR party on Thursday night and culminate in a parish-wide celebration on Sunday. I'll post my tribute to him after the festivities are over.

It will be wonderful once my Northeast Corridor body catches up with my Hawaiian Paradise reality.

Until then, I suppose the drama in the Anglican World will just have to turn without me (It seems to do that on a daily basis without one iota of difficulty).

Later, gator.

Kids and Hope and The Church

Note: The blog below on "Life is Good" inspired this story from my former Senior Warden.

Olivia has been going through a rough period lately. She did six half days of camp at a new school she will be starting in September. It has been a very tough transition for both her and us. The change has definitely begun to impact her sleep and occasionally her disposition.

As part of Olivia's bedtime ritual, Kim was having a conversation with her before a final hug and kiss good night. The conversation went something like this:

Olivia: "Mommy, I want to go to Stanley School forever." (Stanley is her old school)

Mommy: "I know, Honey, but nothing lasts forever. You graduated to the big-girl school and then, eventually, you'll graduate to the next school"

Olivia: "I want Mrs. Wilson to be my teacher forever."

Mommy: "Even if you were to stay at Stanley, Honey, you wouldn't have Mrs. Wilson again. You would have a new teacher. You won't have the same teacher forever. Nothing is forever."

Olivia: "I know something that's forever."

Mommy: "What's that, Poodle?" (Poodle is one of O's nicknames)

Olivia: "Church!"

In the midst of all the pain, even she knows... even she knows.

"A whole lotta ugly from a whole lotta stupid."

This was the weekend of the Annual Sandcastle Contest at Rehoboth Beach. These are three among the many, many entries.

I don't know which one won, but this rendition in sand of the Pirates of the Caribbean would have won my vote for first place.
This turtle would have won second place.

Pretty awesome, right?
And this sandcastle would have won third.

Our daughter says she would have voted the sandcastle first place. Admittedly, it's not the best picture - not bad for a cell phone camera - but, oh, I don't know. It just didn't have the personality of the other two.

Okay. You wanna know what the title of this post has to do with the Sandcastle Contest, right? Let me explain.

This is a line from the movie HAIRSPRAY, a film by John Waters about racial intolerance in Baltimore in the 1950's. It became a Broadway play which is, once again a film. It was released just this week and it stars none other than John Travolta and Michele Phiffer.

It's a line spoken by Queen Latifah's character who is trying to explain to a white teenager and her black boyfriend what they were about to experience when seen in public together. She says to them, "You've got to get ready to face a whole lotta ugly from a whole lotta stupid."

I was thinking that it was this time last year when the second wave of ugly began to hit this blog. The first wave came just as General Convention 2006 was ending.

One of the very mean-spirited blogs had taken one of the more emotional entries I had made after B033 passed and hung it up for target practice - a habit that continues to be a modus operandi of the Right. I'm told there's even a term for it. It's called being an "Internet Troll".

Actually, it was worse than that. My essay was made into a Victorian-esq parody that could only be described as a cruel mockery of authentic distress and pain. Then, it was dragged around some of the Blogs on the Right where the ridicule and parody continued for days.

I thought it was just the fervor of General Convention that brought out the ugly in some people. I know I sound naive but, at the time, I had no idea about the power of the Internet - or the amount of hate generated by General Convention 2006 in general and the election and consecration of Gene Robinson as bishop of NH in particular. I didn't have a clue that many people from all across the religious political spectrum were continuing to read my blog in search of things they could discredit or ridicule.

Sometimes, I am amazed by my own incapacity to comprehend the workings of Cyberspace. The only thing more amazing to me is my continued naivete in believing in the inherent decency and natural inclination of the goodness of the human heart.

I thought a whole lot of the ugly of B033 brought out a whole lotta stupid in blogs and then it would be over, until . . . during the first week of August, 2006, while on vacation, I wrote a blog about the Sandcastle Contest and some of the bumper stickers and T-Shirts I was seeing around town.

Imagine!

WELL! You might have thought I was Satan incarnate. I got absolutely excoriated over at one of the most scurrilous of the conservative blogs. It was amazing. Truly. Even something as innocent as posting a picture of the cover of the rear tire on a jeep became a sign and symbol of my inherent evil and all that was wrong with The Episcopal Church.

I had suggested that, instead of putting signs in front of our church that said stuff like, "8 AM HE I, 10 AM, HE II, sung, solemn," that only 'insiders' and "members only" would understand, perhaps we could bear a message of evangelism more in line with that sign on the back of that jeep. You know - a message of hope that would invite people in from the darkness of the world into the light of Christ.

What was that sign?

Ready?

It said, "Life is good."

I know, right? How could I? How much more evil could I possibly convey?

Well, I got my own kinda stupid, I suppose. I've since gone out an bought a baseball cap and a bag that say, "Life is good." And, I wear them everywhere.

There's more. I've been at it again. These past two weeks, I've carried a small notebook with me and I've been writing down sayings on bumper stickers and T-shirts I've seen in Rehoboth Beach which have made me laugh right out loud, in public, and in front of God and everybody.

So, having not yet lost my sense of humor, and refusing to have it taken from me or surrendering it to anyone, I'm presenting - TA DA!- the Second Annual "Silly Sayings at the Beach."

Before I do, I'm girding my loins for the reaction from the Right. I'm repeating the advice to myself from Queen Latifah, "You've got to get ready to face a whole lotta ugly from a whole lotta stupid."

Ready? Here we go -

In the FOOD Category:

"Drink coffee. Do stupid things faster and with more energy."

"Stressed is desserts spelled backwards."

"Having good health simply means you are dying at a slowest rate possible."


In the ALCOHOL Category:

"Finish your beer, there are sober kids in China, Africa and India."

"Tequila: Helping women lower their standards for years."

"Beer: Helping white guys dance since 1842."


In the POLITICAL HUMOR Category:

"01.20.09 Bush's Last Day."

"You're in America. Speak English."

"Which is worse? Screwing an intern or screwing the country?"

"The Patriot Act: Turning Citizens into spies since 2001."

"Bush is listening. Use big words."

Picture of Bush with these words: "Like a rock. Only dumber."


Special BUSH QUOTES Sub-Category:

"Rarely is the question asked, 'Is our children learning?'"

"I hope the ambitious realize that they are more likely to succeed with success as opposed to failure."

"More and more of our imports come from overseas."

"It's clearly a budget. It's got lots of numbers in it."


'Women Rule' Category

"When he left, she realized that the only thing she lost was the reason to shave her legs."

"BITCH: Babe in Total Control of Herself."

"If at first you don't succeed, redefine success."

"Of course women don't have to work as hard as men. They get it right the first time."

"Well behaved women rarely make history."


Baby T-Shirt Category

"What happens in play group, stays in play group."

"I Pood"

"(with the logo for AC/DC) AB/CD"

"Dairy Queen"


LGBT Category
"I only dress like this to piss off the Drag Queens."

"I wish I could quit you."

(The following is about the Senator from Louisiana, an ardent opponent of gay marriage and spokesperson for Christian 'family values', whose telephone number was on the call list of the DC Madam. Oops!)

"Senator David Vitters: Jambalaya, crawfish pie and a floozie in the gumbo."

"I don't have a lifestyle. I have a life. Run along now and get your one of your own."


Religious Category

"Jesus loves me, this I know (but he thinks you're a real jerk)."

"I love Jesus. It's his followers that drive me crazy."

"What part of 'Love One Another' don't you understand?"


General Excellence Category

"You're only young once, but you can be immature forever."

"National Sarcasm Society: Like we need your support."

"Hard work must have killed someone."

"Save the drama for your momma."

"Teenagers: Tired of being harassed by your parents? Move out, get a job, pay your own way while you still know everything."

"I am nobody. Nobody is perfect. Therefore, I am perfect."


Actually, I'm thinking of having my own bumper sticker made. It will read: "Life is good, but first, you're going to experience a whole lotta ugly from a whole lotta stupid."

Well, there it is folks. If the past is any indicator, some will be more convinced than ever that there's enough here to initiate a Title IV complaint.

Meanwhile, you'll excuse me while I continue to enjoy my vacation.

Good news (for a change) from Nigeria

Say, "Nigeria" and many Episcopalians will respond (most with a shudder), "Akinola."

I am deeply grateful to my dear friend, sister priest and Liberian Theodora ("Teddy") Brooks for pointing us to this film clip of a recent TED presentation in Monterray, California.

Here's a description of what you'll see and hear.

Negative images of Africa dominate the news: famine and disease, conflict and corruption. But Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, the former Finance Minister of Nigeria, says there's a less-told story unfolding in many African nations: one of reform, economic growth and business opportunity. Cracking down on corruption -- and the perception of corruption -- will be the key to its success She tells how high-ranking Nigerian officials taking money illicitly have been jailed, and how citizens and prospective business partners are getting at least a partial picture now of where money flows.

Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, a fellow at the Brookings Institution, was Nigeria's Finance Minister and then briefly Foreign Affairs Minister from 2003 to 2006, the first woman to hold either position.

During her tenure, she worked to combat corruption, make Nigeria's finances more transparent, and institute reforms to make the nation's economy more hospitable to foreign investment. The government unlinked its budget from the price of oil, its main export, to lessen perennial cashflow crises, and got oil companies to publish how much they pay the government.

Since 2003 -- when watchdog group Transparency International rated Nigeria "the most corrupt place on Earth" -- the nation has made headway recovering stolen assets and jailing hundreds of people engaged in international Internet 419 scams.

Okonjo-Iweala is a former World Bank vice president who graduated from Harvard and earned a Ph.D. in regional economics and development at MIT. Her son Uzodinma Iweala is the celebrated young author of Beasts of No Nation.

G'won. Go give a listen. It's twenty minutes of your time well invested:

If the above link doesn't work for you, try cutting and pasting this into your browser: http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/view/id/127

Wade in the Water

Note: The recent stroll down a sermonic memory lane prompted one reader to ask for a copy of the sermon I preached at the Evensong in support of Walter Righter and Barry Stopfel, on the evening before the ecclesiastical court trial began, charging Bishop Righter with heresy.

That was May, 1996!!! (Gee, time flies fast when your spiritual life is on the line.)

I was frustrated not to be able to find a copy of it in my computer files but then I remembered that the only copy I had was on 3.5 inch "floppy disc." Imagine! Neither my laptop nor my computer have that capability. Can you say, "techno-dinosaur"?

I have found a hard copy and, over the past few days, have been transcribing it, saving this time it on both my hard drive and zip file (and, keeping a hard copy).

It's been an important spiritual discipline. I realize now, 12 years later, that this long, hard 35+ year journey we've been on as a church has been sustained by a theology based solidly in our baptismal vows and nourished by the Eucharist.

Can there be a greater spiritual foundation for doing the work of God than the two Great Sacraments of the church?

Guided by the Word of God, nourished by Christ's Body and Blood into which we have been baptized, and led by the Holy Spirit, God willing, we will continue to run this good race until all God's children find perfect freedom in Christ.

Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
My God’s gonna trouble the water.
(LEVAS II #143)


A Sermon for Evensong in support of
+Walter Righter and Barry Stopfel+
Elizabeth Kaeton+
The Episcopal Church of St. Luke
Montclair, NJ
October 9, 1995

Please pray with me: Holy God, source of light and life, let the words of your Holy Scriptures illumine the words of this meditation, that your people may find the courage to wade in the waters of their faith, through Jesus Christ, our hope and our salvation. Amen.

Just around this time of year, ten years ago, I sat in a room with some fellow seminarians to begin a study group. We were preparing ourselves for that major “hoop” in the homestretch of the obstacle course on the pathway toward ordination: the dreaded “G.O.E’s.” As I recall, a great deal of anxiety was provoked by one question in particular. It was deemed by my group to have a peculiar deadliness because of its seeming simplicity. The question was: What is the difference between ‘the right’ and ‘the good’?

As the rest of us groaned and moaned and began to formulate answers, one of our members sat in amused silence. Finally, she blurted out, “It’s all very simple! It can be answered in one sentence.” Astonished into silence, all heads turned to hear her answer. What’s the difference between ‘the right’ and ‘the good’? Easy! God is good and the Bishop is right!

Well, that was ten years ago, and some things have changed and others have not. The question has been reformulated: God is good, but which Bishop is right? The House of Bishops seems to be a house divided against itself, and we all know the warning implicit in that biblical pericope. If I may be so bold, I’d like to offer a possible, albeit simple, solution to the complex dilemma we seem to be in: God is, indeed good, and our Bishop is Righter!

I found myself wanting to spend a lot of time in this sermon supporting Bishop Righter and Barry Stopfel by defending them against the charges of heresy. In one of my many drafts, I developed a defense strategy which led me to wander into the ‘Land of Grandiosity’, convinced that Christopher Darden or Johnny Cochran, or, at the very least, Mike Rehill, had nothing on me.

That's the real temptation of this situation, isn’t it? To separate things into good and bad, right and wrong, and to argue these issues in a litigious setting. A piece of our religious heritage is the virus of ‘Christian triumphalism’ which has notoriously infected missionary efforts and raised the temperature of an evangelistic fervor which blinds the sight to the integrity of every human being. The contemporary reading from Jennifer Phillips which we heard tonight speaks well to this problem.

As my sermonic legal arguments became more complex and convoluted, I found myself sojourning into the temptation of my own sort of ‘Christian triumphalism’. What saved me, as it often does, is the rich heritage of Spirituals from another group of Christians who have triumphed over centuries of Christian tyranny. I kept hearing this simple song of freedom being whispered into my ear.


Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
My God’s gonna trouble the water.


Wade in the water. Code words for the people of the Underground Railroad. A signal for people kept in bondage for over 200 years to begin the journey into their freedom. The waters of the nearby streams and rivers, though fraught with danger, provided a measure of safety from those who would hunt them down and bring them back to slavery.

The people of faith who gave us this courageous hymn understood the power of the image of water. They knew well the sacred stories of creation when God troubled the waters. They saw themselves in the story of Moses leading his people out of the bondage in Egypt. For them, the parting of the waters, leading them to safety and freedom on dry land, was not some quaint piece of mythology. It was a very real hope and a promise to them that God would raise up leaders who would take them to the freedom God had promised them. So it is no coincidence that one of the verses of this song goes:

See that band all dressed in red?
(God’s gonna trouble the water)
Must be the children that Moses led.
(God’s gonna trouble the water)


These people of faith were singing this song for their lives. They knew that before the creation of the new order of freedom, God was gonna have to trouble the waters. They knew full well the words of Genesis: “In the beginning God created heaven and earth. The earth was without form and voice, with darkness over the face of the abyss, and a mighty wind swept over the surface of the waters.” It seems that before there is creation, even the creation of freedom from the chaos of slavery and bondage, God’s gonna trouble the water.”

Sisters and Brothers in Christ, we are not here tonight to argue good and bad, right and wrong, and to triumph “our side” over “their side.” We are not here to sacrifice the tenets of our faith on the altars of legal expediency. Rather, we are here as midwives to a new order of creation with which the Body of Christ has been laboring long and hard.

Within the placental waters of our Baptism, the voice of Jesus calls to us from the womb of creation to deepen the commitment of our partnership with God in Christ. We are being called not only to support Walter and Barry, but to stand in solidarity with the poor in spirit (those who know their need of God), with those who mourn; with those who hunger and thirst to see right prevail, and with those who have suffered persecution for the cause of right.

We are called, each one of us, to serve those whom Jesus himself called “beloved.” And, by our vows of Baptism, we pledge to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves; and to strive for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of every human being.

This is not a simple matter of being obedient to the “laws” of our Baptism. It is a much higher calling than that. This is about keeping the vows made for us in our Baptism as infants and which we re-affirmed for ourselves at Confirmation.

If we are not about this high calling, if we are not about living fully into the chaos of the mystery of our faith, then we have no claim to the priesthood of all believers. We are impostors and frauds, no better than the Levite and priest who passed by the man going down from Jerusalem to Jerico who fell into the hands of robbers, leaving him half dead. In the history of this church “that man going down from Jerusalem to Jerico” have been and are African-Americans. They have been and are, still, women. And, they have been and are gay and lesbian people of all colors, many of whom are here tonight.

The good news of tonight’s scripture is that Jesus gives us a choice of the role we are to play in our community of faith. We can be helpless victims, half-dead on the road. We can be the priest who was obedient to temple laws. We can be the Levite who was obedient to cultural imperatives. Or, we can be the Samaritan who considered all these things and acted on faith. As the church considers the choice of its own action, I call us to remember the powerful words of one of the saints of the Catholic Worker Movement, Brendon Walsh, When they come for the innocent without crossing over your body, cursed be our religion and your life.”

Look like you better wad in the water.
Wade in the water, children.
Wade in the water.
My God’s gonna trouble the water.


The living waters of our Baptismal faith await us. There are no easy answers, no simple solutions there. This isn’t about being wrong or right, wronger or Righter or Spong or McKelvey or Stopfel or McHugh or Kaeton. Our very identity as Christians is on trial here. This is not about following laws. This is about following the imperatives of Christ.

The only way to accomplish the imperatives of Christ is jump into the waters of our faith. But know this, for it is what was known and understood by those courageous travelers of the Underground Railroad: It is our feet, these feet, your feet, wading in the water, which troubles the water.

If we are God’s agents on this fragile earth, our island home, then the message from an old Baptist preacher I once heard is true: “Our extremities are God’s opportunities.” The moment you put your faith into action the waters of creation begin to be troubled. If I have learned nothing else in my privileged service in the urban arena, it is this: When you stand in solidarity with those who are oppressed, when you seek Christ in the ‘anawim’, the outcast and serve them with the dignity due to one of God’s creation, you invite the same persecution which has been visited upon them.

You see, it’s okay (in fact in some circles it’s very trendy) to serve “them” as long as “they” stay “those people”. As soon as “they” become “us”, as soon as we begin to live out and act our beliefs of equality, especially in creating access to avenues of power and authority within the structures of the institution, Oh Lord, the waters, they do get troubled! Clearly, Bishop Righter knows this well. He’s in some hot Baptismal water now!

In the waters of our Baptism, we are all one. Either that’s true and we live it with integrity, or it’s false and we confess ourselves impostors. We either have full access to all of the sacraments of the Church, or we have none. We can not become “cafeteria Christians,” picking and choosing which bits of spiritual food we will serve to those who hunger and thirst for the true, full presence of Christ. I ask you, are we or are we not assured of our worthiness in Christ at each and every Eucharistic banquet?

It comes down to this: If you don’t want to ordain lesbian and gay people, then stop baptizing us. Stop nourishing us with the Bread of Heaven and the Cup of Salvation, or don’t even pretend to be surprised when we grow into the full stature of Christ! As my Seminary Dean, Harvey Guthrie, once said to me, “The world is too broken a place and our people are hurting too deeply for us to play polite games with one another.”

The only way to the gate of heaven is through the waters of our faith, and those waters are fraught with trouble. The faith we share we share in Christ is neither easy nor convenient. Often, it puts is in the midst of a tidal wave of controversy with the expectations of our culture. So it was for the travelers and builders and sponsors of the Underground Railroad. So it will be for us in our day. “Wade in the water” is still code language for social reform and cultural revolution. These words continue the signal to begin the journey toward our freedom in Christ, “in whose service is perfect freedom.”

Our support for Walter and Barry in the form of this prayer service is a revolutionary act, make no mistake. They need to be continually uplifted before God in thought and prayer, and I pray that this is just the beginning of our commitment to do just that in your private and corporate acts of worship. I’m going to call us into another revolutionary act. I want to ask us to live out our belief in the priesthood of all believers. I want us to put our bodies where our mouths have been. I want to ask each one of you to stand and extend your hands in a form of blessing for Walter and Barry. Please join your hearts and minds and souls with mine in this blessing prayer.

Holy God, we ask you to look upon your servants Walter and Barry and behold the wonder of your creation! These are your faithful servants, and we whom they serve to the honor and glory of your Name give you thanks and praise for their lives and ministries of faith. They have stepped out in faith into the waters of Baptism and have troubled those waters in the strong conviction that you are calling us into a new understanding of the ancient order of creation.

Help them to know that no matter how much trouble they stir up for our sake you will be with them. When they hit their foot on the hard rock of confrontation, you will comfort their pain. When they stumble and fall into frustration or despair, you will lift them up. Help them know that the anawim join with Jesus in calling them ‘beloved.’ Help them hear the words you spoke to Jacob as words they can live by: Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go; for I will not leave you until I have done that of which I have spoken to you.” (Gen 28:15)

By the power of the Holy Spirit, may we together, Bishops, Priests and People of God, know the blessings of God which have been promised in Christ Jesus. Amen.

Let the word go forth: The saints of God are rising up with a song in their weary throats. Pray, sisters and brothers, to be in that number. The people of God are wading in the water. The poor in spirit are claiming their inheritance. As St. Lutibelle is oft’ wont to remind us, “The meek are getting ready.” The peacemakers, even now, are beating their swords into plowshares. And, bands of angels are in their sweet, sweet chariots, comin’ for to carry us home.


Look over yonder, what do I see?
(God’s gonna trouble the water.)
You know the Holy Ghost is a comin’ on thee.
(God’s gonna trouble the water.)
C’mon and wade in the water.
Wade in the water, children.
Wade in the water,
My God’s gonna trouble the water.


And let all God’s children say, “AMEN.”

Sybille

Pay attention. You'll want to remember this face.

This is Sybille N. Nyeck. You'll want to remember her name.

Some of you have met her or at least read some of her writings in The Witness. She is, without a doubt, one of the most original, creative theologians I have ever read.

A native of Cameroon, she taught herself English (French and Bantu are her mother tongues). Her mother is a teacher, so much of her early education was home-based. She attended Bible School for a time where she was able to polish her academic skills but, as a woman in her country, earned no diploma, degree or certificate.

I first met Sybille in July of 2001 when, at age 23, she was visiting the Sisters of St. Helena in Vails Gate, NY. In conversation with her, it became clear that she was in no small amount of difficulty in her country.

Her mother had remarried after her father's death and she had a younger step-sister who had Down's Syndrome. She had recently discovered that her step-father was sexually abusing her sister. Outraged, she filed charges against the man.

Her outrage was met in kind. In her country, she explained, men sexually abuse younger women with impunity, never really fearing consequences for their heinous actions. To make matters worse, it is almost unheard of for a woman to file legal charges against a man - much less a daughter against a parent.

However, the evidence was overwhelming and her charges stuck. Her step-father was hauled off to jail to await his trial. When rumor had it that he would be released on bail, Sybille began to fear for her life. She had fled the country for a time, which included visiting the Convent of St. Helena, to allow the outrage in certain parts of her community to quiet down before the trial.

Two years later, in an effort to further discredit her, her sexuality became the source of public knowledge. Threats - most of them very, very serious - were made against her life. Sybille began to send emails to those of us who had met her, pleading for help.

An elaborate plan began to come together. She got herself invited to Brussels to deliver a paper, and so was granted a travel visa. We then combined that with a short "vacation" to Paris, where a young Parisian woman named Katia, a curator at the Louvre and a member of an African LGBT activist group, agreed to sponsor her.

From Paris, I was privileged to be part of a small group of friends including Louie Crew, Ethan Flad and Barbara Crafton to help her to the United States. I well remember the night our Ms. Conroy picked her up at Kennedy Airport and she stayed with us for a few days to decompress and get herself acclimated. The good Sisters at St. Helena then gave her sanctuary for a month before the Flad family took her in. She finally settled in with the Franciscan Brothers in Brooklyn, who gave her a room and helped her to get herself established in this country.

Against almost all odds (given her continent of origin and her sexuality) she was awarded political asylum almost a year to the day of her arrival in this country. Those of us who supported her in this process were told by the folks at INS that her research and writing, published at The Witness, not only made the compelling case for her asylum, but laid the ground work which would insure the asylum of other African LGBT people.

Indeed, my testimony about this case during the 2006 Immigration hearings at General Convention Committee on Urban and Social Justice was compelling enough for The Episcopal Church to pass a resolution condemning the oppression and death threats of LGBT people in Africa.

Her path has been nothing short of meteoric. She graduated at the top of her class at LaGuardia Community College in Queens two years ago and was accepted at several prestigious private colleges to complete her BA, and ultimately chose Swarthmore. I am delighted to say that there are three alumna/ae of Swarthmore in my congregation, one of whom wrote her a sterling recommendation.

Sybille has more than proven herself an amazing scholar. She graduated from Swarthmore in May with honors with a double major in Comparative Literature and Political Science. She also successfully wrote a grant and completed a documentary of interviews of Cameroonian LGBT people which was debuted at Swarthmore in April. She hopes to submit it to film festivals so that the truth about African LGBT people can be more widely known.

I saw the film on Tuesday night. It is very, very impressive and deeply moving. To my surprise and delight, she has included as part of the sound track a song she wrote shortly after meeting me. Sybille herself sings it in French and plays all of the instruments on the recording, which she also produced. It is called, simply, "Elizabeth." I didn't understand half the words. No matter. It still made me weep.

Sybille applied to a number of schools for graduate studies. I know of at least three that accepted her, and she has decided to enter the PhD program at UCLA in political science. She has been awarded the most prestigious merit-based fellowship given by Swarthmore president's office and the graduate division and a very generous scholarship from UCLA.

She leaves Thursday for a month's vacation in Paris where she will stay with her dear friend, Katia. It's the first time she has had a vacation in five years. She then leaves Paris for LA where she will move into graduate student housing and begin her doctoral course work.

On Tuesday evening, Sybille came to visit us in the Rectory in Chatham for what may be the last visit for a while. But, there is no doubt that our paths will cross again. And, God willing, again and again and again.

I also have no doubt that you will also be hearing from this amazing woman in the not-so-distant future.

May God continue to richly bless you, Sybille, that you may continue to be a blessing to those who come to know you and be inspired by your work and thoughts.

EWC remembers and honors Bishop Jones

The Episcopal Women’s Caucus gives thanks for the life of the Rt. Rev. Edward Witker Jones, IX Bishop of Indianapolis, who died on Saturday, July 28, 2007. Bishop Jones was the first bishop to serve on the Board of the Caucus and only the second male. In 1985 he was appointed to chair the Committee on Women in the Episcopate in preparation for the 1988 Lambeth Conference, work to which he devoted a sabbatical.

+Ted Jones was part of a small group of bishops who met with the board in the early/mid 1980’s and asked us to consider holding board meetings in conjunction with meetings of the House of Bishops because our presence had a positive impact on the work of the House. We agreed and that practice continued until 1991 when meetings of the House of Bishops were closed and they went to the Kanuga model.

Throughout the course of his ministry he provided support to women, lay and ordained. We offer prayers for his wife, Anne, and his family. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.

Name that tune

For the life of me, I can't imagine why a reputable, albeit conservative journalist like George Conger would have published this picture of these member bishops who gathered this past week in Ft. Worth for a meeting of the Anglican Communion Network.

But, he did. Honest. Here it is, in fact.

Front Row:
Jon-David Schofield, San Joaquin; Jack Iker, Forth Worth: Bill Cox, Southern Cone/Asst. Oklahoma rt; Gregory Venables, Primate Southern Cone; Robt Duncan, Pittsburgh; William Wantland, Eau Claire rt; Keith Ackerman, Quincy.
Second Row:
James Stanton, Dallas; William Ilgenfritz, Forward in Faith bishop elect; Bill Atwood, suffragan bishop elect of All Saints Diocese Kenya; Bishop Ray Sutton, Reformed Episcopal Church; John Guernsey, suffragan bishop elect of Uganda; Richard Boyce, Anglican Province of America; Jeffrey Steenson, Rio Grande; Don Harvey, Western Newfoundland rt; David Bena, suffragan Albany rt/Asst Bishop Cana; James Adams, Western Kansas; William Love, Albany

Which brought to mind that song from 1958 by Sheb Wooley, "Purple People Eaters."

Remember the words?

No? Well, not to worry. Here they are (Which make about as much sense as the reports and repudiations coming from Ft. Worth.)

Well I saw the thing comin' out of the sky
It had the one long horn, one big eye.
I commenced to shakin' and I said "ooh-eee"
It looks like a purple people eater to me.

It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater.
(one-eyed, one-horned, flyin' purple people eater)
A one-eyed one-horned, flyin' puple people eater
Sure looks strange to me. (one eye?)

Well he came down to earth and lit in a tree
I said Mr. Purple People Eater don't eat me
I heard him say in a voice so gruff
I wouldn't eat you cuz you're so tough

It was a one-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
one-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
one-eyed, one-horned flyin' purple people eater
Sure looks strange to me. (one horn?)

I said Mr. Purple People Eater, what's your line
He said it's eatin' purple people and it sure is fine
But that's not the reason that I came to land
I wanna get a job in a rock and roll band

Well bless my soul, rock and roll, flying purple
people eater. Pidgeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin'
purple people eater (we wear short shorts)
Flyin' purple people eater
sure looks strange to me.

And then he swung from the tree and lit on the
ground. He started to rock, really rockin' around
It was a crazy little ditty with a swingin' tune
(sing aboop boop aboopa lopa lum bam boom)

Well, bless my soul, rock and roll
flyin' purple people eater.
Pigeon-toed, undergrowed, flyin' purple peopleeater.
Flyin' little people eater
Sure looks strange to me. (purple people?)

And then he went on his way, and then what do
you know. I saw him last night on a TV show.
He was blowing it out, a'really knockin' em dead
Playin' rock and roll music through the horn in
his head (clarinet solo) ( Tequila)

Eyes left: Report from the ACN Meeting in Ft. Worth

Katie Sherrod is a journalist of the first degree. She is also an amazingly courageous Christian and faithful Episcopalian, living in the midst of the fiery furnace of the self-described "passionate orthodoxy" that is reportedly the diocese of Ft. Worth (translation: "No Girls Allowed" - except, of course, 'real men' who like to dress up in lace surplices and elaborately brocaded 'fiddleback' vestments and prance about in scrupulously choreographed liturgy. I know. Go figure.)

Check out her Blog, Desert's Child, where this was originally posted.

She attended the recent meeting of the Anglican Communion Network. This is her stunning report:

“If only.”

These slightly petulant words seemed the leitmotif of the July 30-31 meeting of the Anglican Communion Network.

If only the Archbishop of Canterbury had spoken even one encouraging word about the Network, it would be so much bigger than it is now.

If only some of the Network’s biggest financial supporters weren’t tied up in their own legal battles as they tried to take property out of The Episcopal Church, the Network wouldn’t be facing financial “challenges.”

If only other bishops had spoken up in support of the Network bishops.

If only all the other splinter groups didn’t see themselves as the body into which all the other “orthodox” would come, the Network could have served as that body.

The glass is clearly half empty for the Network. Optimism was in short supply while mistrust was rampant in the room. There were lots of questions about what happens in the future when they are not all so willing to gloss over differences – like those over the issue of ordaining women to the priesthood -- in the interest of unity. But these misgivings were brushed aside as something to be expected among a group of wounded people who have been so abused and persecuted by The Episcopal Church.

On Monday morning, about 80 delegates, observers, and spouses met in a stuffy room at St. Vincent’s Cathedral in Bedford, a suburb of Fort Worth, to hear the Anglican Communion Network Moderator, Pittsburgh Bishop Robert Duncan, sum it all up:
“What is needed is a completely new structure. Lambeth is failing, Canterbury is failing, the Anglican Consultative Council is prejudiced in a Western way and the primates are sadly divided north and south.

“We’ll leave and they can take the stuff with them to hell, because that is where they will take it. This is Good Friday and we have to face it.”

As the meeting got underway the primary mood was one of deep sadness underlain with anger. This very white, very male – I counted at most twenty women delegates – very cleric-heavy group seemed bewildered by how they ended up in these ‘emotional and spiritual depths,” facing financial challenges and feeling that The Episcopal Church no longer has any room left “for me or anyone like me,” as Duncan put it.

“How brutal the rejection, how total the failure,” he said.

Bp. James Adams was clear about how much influence the Network bishops have had: “We suffer under the delusion that we have any influence in The Episcopal Church. The action of General Convention 2006 sealed it – we have no influence whatsoever. They don’t listen to a word we say.”

What to do? Well, when your growth rate is static if not shrinking, one looks for ways to grow. One way is to ally with other like-minded little groups who share your obsession with “purity” and “clean hands.”

So the Network voted to join the Common Cause Partnership, which is a federation of autonomous “Jurisdictions and Ministries in North America,” all of whom affirm the same Theological Statement and accepts “one of the historic Books of Common Prayer as the primary standard for worship.”

The Common Cause Partnership is an alphabet soup of dissident conservative groups – the AAC, ACN, AMiA, ANiC, APA, CANA, AEF, FIF/NA, and REC. [See paragraph 23 below.]
The Partners are divided over women’s ordination but united enough in their outrage over the inclusion of lesbians and gays in the life and ministry of the church that they are willing to put that difference aside and ‘live in tension” for a time.
Hmmm. Autonomous members of a federation who agree to live in tension over disagreements?

Remind you of anything?

But don’t you go thinking they are replicating the wimpy Anglican Communion. No, they have put in place a plan to vote someone off the island if they misbehave. And most importantly, all partners agree not to “take any dispute to a Primate or Primates, nor shall any CCP Partner bring any dispute before any court of law or chancery, without first attempting in good faith to resolve the matter in accordance with the provisions of this article.”

Dean – and bishop-elect in the Anglican Province of Uganda -- John Guernsey explained that CCP “need[s] to deal with our own matters and not export disputes” to others outside the partnership. The irony escaped him.

They also amended the Network bylaws to clarify that only those members of the Network who are still members of The Episcopal Church are bound by the Network charter’s assertion that it “shall operate in good faith within the Constitution of The Episcopal Church.” Bishop Bill Wantland pointed out that at the January 20, 2004 meeting, the framers of the charter had very deliberately used only the word “Constitution” and not “Constitution and Canons.”

I’ve watched so many conservative groups morph into other groups with other names that it’s easy to lose track of the fact that it’s often the same people doing all this. Many members of the Network [ACN] are also members of the American Anglican Council [AAC] and Forward in Faith North America [FIF/NA]. The Anglican Network in Canada [ANic] shares many members with Anglican Essentials Federation [AEF]. And certainly the Convocation of Anglicans in North America [CANA] shares members with the other groups. As far as I can determine, only the Reformed Episcopal Church [REC] doesn’t share members with the others. And I certainly could be wrong about that. And the Anglican Province of America [APA] owes its continued existence to the recurrent splintering of the “continuing churches.”

So now they’ve formed yet another ‘orthodox” entity, whose purpose is to “build toward that new ecclesiastical structure” that will one day supplant The Episcopal Church [and one assumes the Anglican Church of Canada] as the official Anglican presence in North America. By the time the meeting ended, they were back to their usual mode of alternating between playing the martyr and playing the cocky upstart taking on the mean ol’ Episcopal Church. It was “oh poor us” alternating with “bring ‘em on.”

The plan is this: The bishops who refuse to go to Lambeth will hold an “alternate Lambeth.” The Anglican Communion will split in two. The Common Cause Partners will affiliate themselves with the “pure” Anglican Communion. The “old” Anglican Communion with wither away, and the “purified” Anglican Communion will rise triumphant, and have a big tea party in Nigeria every ten years.

In the meantime, they hope to persuade TEC to “cease” litigation and come to mediation so they can settle on a plan to let them leave with the property.

Apparently purity works better when you can take the property with you.

Prayers for Davis

Davis Mac-Iyalla, Director of Changing Attitude, Nigeria, has recently received some disturbing news.

Gun men invaded his family house in Nigeria and started shooting. They killed 20 people. The family was gathered for the swearing in ceremony for one of his brothers. He had just been appointed as Commissioner by the Rivers State Governor.

His mother was shot in the leg and is still in the local hospital. His cousin Opali was killed. Davis' brother, who was the main target, managed to escape.

Please remember Davis and his family in your prayers.

If you would like to send a message of condolence to Davis his email address is davis@nigeria.changingattitude.org

It was 10 years ago this month . . .

Imagine! That it would take the "Bullies on Viagra" to remind me of a sermon I preached a decade (10 YEARS!!!) ago at the Triennial Integrity Eucharist at General Convention 1997 in Philadelphia, PA.

At the end of the service, when everyone stood up, joined hands, and sang with me, I remember thinking to myself, "Well, if I die now, I'm sure I'll go directly to heaven."

I am and will be eternally thankful to God for this experience.

As I recall,a tape of this sermon can be ordered through CHRISTIANITY FOR THE THIRD MILLENNIUM - one side with Louie Crew's Triennial Integrity Sermon from 1994 and this one on the other.


Our Gift To The Church:
"We're gonna keep on walkin' forward"
A Sermon for the Triennial Integrity Eucharist the Rev'd Canon Elizabeth Kaeton

The Episcopal Church of St. Luke and the Epiphany,

Philadelphia, PA July 16, 1997

© 1997 by The Rev. Elizabeth Kaeton, TheOasisNJ@aol.com

Please pray with me (sung):

"We're gonna keep on walkin' forward.
Keep on walkin' forward. Keep on walkin' forward.
Never turnin' back. Never turnin' back."

+In the Name of God, our life, our love, our joy. Amen.

It is - all at once - wonderful and daunting and delightful and awful to be here tonight (not to mention hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hades!) I thought it was hot in Newark! On the other hand - perhaps that has nothing to do with the weather!

First of all, I am keenly aware that your preacher three years ago was none other than our own beloved Louie Crew who welcomed you to Samaria with the Southern charm known only to a bona fide, self-professed member of the House of the Alabama Belles! Believe me, honey, you could twist an ankle trying to follow in the footsteps of his gold lame pumps!

I am also aware that this will be the last time our celebrant this evening will be with us in his capacity as Presiding Bishop.

I was there, at the National Cathedral in Washington, DC, eleven years ago and heard +Ed Browning's newly consecrated statement which re-claimed the agenda of Jesus Christ as the agenda for the Episcopal Church: In this church of ours, he said, there will be no outcasts. Living out those words with integrity has come at high cost to you, personally, sir, and I don't know anyone here - gay or straight, male or female, black or white- who doesn't want me to be certain to convey our heart-felt appreciation, gratitude and admiration for your life and ministry among us. Sir, I'm sure you could walk in Louie's gold lame pumps anytime you wanted!

Even more pressing, however, is the fact that the Hearings for the Resolution for the Blessing of Same Sex Couples will begin at 8:30 this evening. This means that some of the people who are taking leadership positions in this service, as well as some of you who are participating in the congregation, will need to leave as soon as you possibly can. I mean no disrespect to the very highly honed political process on which the Episcopal Church operates and in which she takes such pride, but I just have to say it: God spare us from more Hearings! My personal experience is that listening precedes hearing. Perhaps, if we did more listening, we would need fewer 'Hearings'.

We've got a great deal on our plate at this Eucharistic banquet. While I am delighted to see so many of our heterosexual friends and relatives here with us tonight, what I have to say is meant most specifically for those among us whom Louie Crew identifies as being from Samaria or the equivalent of 'Biblical outcasts' - the members of the lesbian and gay community.

I am speaking in this sermon to the members of "Our Tribe", all the gay and lesbian Christians here present this night. Now, I want you to know that the words I speak are not just my own - they have come to me from whisperings and fragments of conversations already in progress.

My hope is that this sermon will be the genesis of an intentional conversation which I pray we will have in greater detail and in ever widening circles of gender and geography, ethnicity and race, religious posture and political affiliation. Tonight, however, my message is specifically for gay men and lesbians.

I have no objection to others listening in. If they do, so much the better. Eavesdropping may not altogether be such a bad thing. I've come to understand it as one of the ways of learning of the oppressed. For many years women and people of color, along with lesbians and gay men, have- quite intentionally - been kept out of many crucial conversations. We've learned how to learn by listening in - especially in places where we've been neither welcomed nor invited. We've been reprimanded and chided for eavesdropping like naughty children, but, in the process, we've learned how to take responsibility for our own education.

That being said, let's get on with it. For those of you who are - in the oh-so politically correct descriptive term of my dear friend, Gene Robinson - homosexually challenged, I bid your patient listening. I trust it will help before you go off to your hearings.

We're gonna keep on walkin' forward.
Keep on walkin' forward. Keep on walkin' forward.
Never turnin' back. Never turnin' back.

My dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ: I bring you news of unspeakable joy! I want you to know something so earth-shattering, so volcanic, so revolutionary, that, when you hear these things, your life will be changed and transformed and you will never again be the same.

These words are not my own - they were, in their origin, spoken to someone else - but I claim them as my own treasured possessions and will make of them gifts for you. These words are not new - they are ancient and holy words of another time and another place - and I bring them to you with renewed meaning for us in our time and in our place. These words are not carved in stone, but rather, these words are an almond in early bloom (as foretold by the Prophet Jeremiah 1:11), a reminder that God is watchful to carry out God's own purpose.

Listen! Hear the words of new life which God intends for me and for you! Jesus is speaking tonight to Simon Peter, the one He has called 'The Rock'. It is sometime after Christ's resurrection - the third postresurrection experience of John's Gospel - and they have met on the beach at the Sea of Tiberias. (Jn 21:15-17) Listen! Jesus asks, Simon, son of John, do you love me more than all else? And Simon Peter, the rock on whom Christ built his church says, Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. And Jesus says, Then feed my sheep.

Did you hear that? Listen again: A second time Jesus asked, Simon, son of John, do you love me? And, a second time, Peter answers, Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. And Jesus says, Then tend my lambs.

A third time Jesus said, Simon, son of John, do you love me? And Peter was hurt that he asked him a third time 'Do you love me'; Lord, he said you know everything; you know I love you. Jesus said (are you listening?), Feed my sheep.

Behold, I bring you words of life. We, lesbian and gay people of the Episcopal church, have been asking the church, the Body of Christ, lo these many years, Do you love me? And, tonight, Jesus is saying to the gay and lesbian people who are the rocks of this church: Feed my sheep. Tend my lambs.

If you have listened to these ancient words did you hear the Good News for us today? The Good News of tonight's Gospel of Jesus Christ is not about being helpless victims, it is about being empowered disciples. The Word of Truth which God has brought to us tonight in the City Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, is not about insecurity and doubt, but about direction and purpose; it is about destiny and distinction, or, in the traditional language of the church: mission and ministry.

The Gospel Truth is clear: Jesus loves us. Do you hear that? Can you take that in? Can you get your mind wrapped around such an incredible concept and accept that? I know that 'proper Episcopalians' disdain of such language, which we feel is somehow far too 'pedestrian' and theologically sophomoric for our highly evolved status in the Christian community. But, listen to the power of these three simple words: JESUS LOVES US! Jesus loved Simon Peter, the one who denied him not once but three times! Jesus loved Judas, the one who betrayed him unto death with a kiss. Oh, hear the news: JESUS LOVES ME! And, if Jesus can love a sinner like me, then you know it's true that JESUS LOVES YOU!

God, our own God, is a generous and abundant God! We, as lesbian and gay people, like so many ancient tribes before us, have been lost, but now we are found. We have been tricked and betrayed by an unholy kiss. We have been marked and scourged. We have been tormented and beaten and left for dead. But, lo! I tell you a mystery! We are dying and yet, behold! We live! We are alive in Christ because we know who we are. We are renewed in our faith because we know whose we are. We are strengthened in our service because we know that we are loved. And, dear sisters and brothers in Christ, lo, I tell you, the time has come and now is, for us to stop asking the Body of Christ, Do you love me? It is time to pick up our crosses and follow Jesus. It is time to feed the sheep. It is time to tend the lambs.

"We're gonna keep on walkin' forward.
Keep on walkin' forward. Keep on walkin' forward.
Never turnin' back. Never turnin' back."

And, how is it, you ask, that we are to do these things? What is our gift to the church? If you have listened and heard all that I have said, then this is where the conversation begins. Let's look at the ancient words from St. Paul's letter to the early church in Corinth which we heard this evening: You are God's holy temple. (Cor 3:16)

You are God's holy temple. Think with me for a moment, church. What is it that the world would see as folly, but that God would count as wise? What is it within you that the world would mock and scorn, but which might be seen as treasure in the economy of God's Realm? What is it which strikes fear in the hearts of the those who would hate us, that perfect love would cast out?

Here is what I believe to be our gift to the church. This is what I believe to be 'beyond inclusion' and the reason we must keep moving forward. This is what I believe our crucial conversations to be about. It is this: The erotic. I believe that our special task, as followers of Christ with a specific charism in this time and place in history, is to help ourselves - and the church in the process - to reclaim the erotic as an integral part of our spiritual lives.

Now, our sisters Carter Heyward and Ann Gilson have written prolifically and powerfully on the subjects, and I commend their works to you. But here, I have in mind the specific work of our sister Audre Lourde, who first began writing of the 'Erotic as Power' in 1978 (see The Fourth Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, Mount Holyoke College, August 25, 1978 Published as a pamphlet by Out and Out Books). I want to be very clear: I'm not talking about pornography, which is, in fact, the opposite of the erotic. Indeed, Lourde contends that pornography is the result of the suppression of the erotic.

Listen to Audre's description: The very word erotic comes from the Greek word 'eros', the personification of love in all its aspects - born of Chaos, and personifying creative power and harmony. The erotic is a measure between the beginnings of our sense of self and the chaos of our strongest feelings. It is an internal sense of satisfaction to which, once we have experienced it, we know we can aspire. For having experienced the fullness of this depth of feeling and recognizing its power, in honor and self-respect we can require no less of ourselves.

Further, she says: Beyond the superficial, the considered phrase, 'It feels right to me', acknowledges the strength of the erotic into a true knowledge, for what that means is the first and most powerful guiding light toward any understanding. And understanding is a handmaiden which can only wait upon, or clarify, that knowledge, deeply born. The erotic is the nurturer or nursemaid of all our deepest knowledge.

Somewhere, deep in me and deep in you, is a yearning so strong it can not be stopped. Somewhere, beyond the hearing of 'groans and sighs too deep for words' there is a longing for connection with another human being which will not be silenced. It lies at the core of the mystery of our existence. It is made manifest in that which is often awkward and unsettling. We can only catch fleeting glimpses of it, but when we see it, we know that we are instantly transported (back?) to Eden. Suddenly, we are standing on that bridge between the Tree of Knowledge and The Realm of God and there is a slithering serpent in our path.

In that moment, our deepest truths are touched. In that moment, our truest feelings are known. We feel them in our bodies before we know them in our minds. Suddenly, phrases from the prophet Jeremiah become clear to us: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you for my own. And, all that may have been required to provoke this occurrence is that we have followed the music of our lover's laughter in the darkness, stepped out into the moonlight and walked into the waiting arms of the one we will come to love.

It is then that we discover our most dearly held and terrifying truth: when we step into and embrace our erotic selves, we have touched our deepest spirituality, whose power it is to create new life. This can take the form in the physical, but it can also be made manifest in the emotional and psychological, as well. It may be the genesis of poetry or music, portrait or sculpture, vision or goal. Something new is being created, and we are stirred with excitement.

This is not new information. It is not even a new topic or issue. The ancient mystics often spoke of God as cosmic lover and Christ as eternal spouse. This is ancient wisdom which is born into our present reality through the midwives of pain and sacrifice. Somewhere, in our deepest places of knowing, human beings have always had this information. And we - lesbian and gay people - know a little something about pain and suffering.

We have had our total humanity diminished and our identity as children of God reduced to a single sex act. We have come to know that we have been, in this dysfunctional family of God, the 'shame bearers' for those who would separate the erotic from the spiritual. We have also come to know that we no longer have to accept this role in the household of Christ. We do not have to repeat harmful family patterns and hurtful ways of behaving. JESUS LOVES US. And, while we may disdain the simplicity of the language, we can not deny its truth.. We also know that our world, indeed, our church, is hungry for this truth. And, sisters and brothers in Christ, Jesus says to us: Feed my sheep. Tend my lambs.

We have a great gift to give to the church - in the words of the Eucharistic prayer: we give ourselves, our souls and bodies. We know, in the deepest places of our knowing, the pathway to our spiritual selves through our erotic selves because we have traveled it before. Our gift, our blessing, is to us to chart this journey for ourselves, and then to make those maps available to the wider church. In many ways, we've already begun that process. We need to continue forward.

I want to challenge us to move away from our stance as victims and claim the Gospel promise of liberation. I want to challenge us to have crucial conversations among ourselves, and invite our heterosexual neighbors, when appropriate, into our dialogue. I want us to dare to look deep into the wellspring of our desires and longings and be intentionally provocative. I want us to continue the legacy of Jack Spong and drag the Church - kicking and screaming, if necessary - into conversations about that which no one else will talk.

Further, I want us to explore the boundaries of the chaos of our deepest feelings in a church which is bound by that which is 'meet and right so to do'. I want us to re-claim sensuality in our liturgy without being seduced by an impulse toward the 'precious' and 'pompous'. I want us to come to church to think AND feel - to know AND sense. Is it too much to ask that we might experience JOY - in church? Is this beyond the imagination - or even the asking - of most Episcopalians, fondly known by the larger church as 'God's frozen chosen'?

Is this frightening? You bet it is. Courage, my sisters and brothers. Listen and hear the words of our Sister, Audre Lourde: When I dare to be powerful - to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid. Your silence will not protect you.

The work is before us. Let us move forward from this place, not only to ASK the Church for a blessing on our committed relationships, but to BE a Blessing for the Church - even though there are members of the Church, who, in direct disobedience to our Baptismal vows, can not and will not commit to a relationship with us. Pray for them. Remember, Jesus never said, 'like one another'; He said, 'love one another'. Even then, Jesus was calling us to our deepest emotional feelings, calling us to our best erotic selves and our most powerful spirituality.

Let us celebrate those members, especially those here tonight, who have been, are, and, please God, will continue to be a blessing to us. (If you've been away, you can come back now! I trust that your time spent in eavesdropping was, you should excuse the expression, 'fruitful'.) Indeed, I want to suggest to us all that the most profound pedagogy (or teaching style) of Holy Scripture is to make eavesdroppers of us all - listening in on the ancient and continued conversation which God has with all Creatures and Creation.

I ask now that we stand together in solidarity, one with the other, and continue to honor the work which has been done by insuring that our work continues. As we begin, with awkward strokes, to touch the strength of our erotic power, may we find the courage to unleash the Spirit of Love Incarnate and Divine into our lives - and into our Church. I pray that, together, we let not the world - which seeks to divide and conquer - define the agenda for the church; rather, let the church - where there are no outcasts - define the agenda for the world. And, as we go forth, let this be our song:

We're gonna keep on walkin' forward.
Keep on walkin' forward. Keep on walkin' forward.
Never turnin' back. Never turnin' back.

We're gonna raise this house with strong hands.
Raise this house with strong hands. Raise this house with strong hands.
Never turnin' back. Never turnin' back.

We're gonna light this night together.
Light this night together. Light this night together.
Never turnin' back. Never turning' back.

We're gonna keep on walkin' forward.
Keep on walkin' forward. Keep on walking forward.
Never turnin' back. Never turnin' back.


And now, let all God's children say, Amen.

And, again I say, Amen

"It's me, it's me O Lord, standin' in the need of prayer . . .(especially on vacation)

There's something wonderful about attending church when you're on vacation.

Over the past 20-something years, I've discovered this is especially true for priests.

We've been coming to Rehoboth Beach for the past 17 years, the first 12 years, renting a home in Rehoboth Beach proper, and attending The Episcopal Parish of All Saints' Church there, in the ocean block of Olive Avenue.

Every time I attended church there, I could never allow myself to take communion without first confessing my envy of the priest who lived in the beautiful Victorian rectory, with wrap-around, screened-in porch, right next to the church.

My, my, my.

In the past five years we've owned, Llangollen, our wee cottage on Rehoboth Bay, we have been attending St. George's Chapel, the Episcopal Church nearest to us, and part of All Saint's Parish. I have come to dearly love this lovely little church.

I love the fact that you walk through the cemetery before you actually get into the chapel. Indeed, the burial ground is larger than the church proper. That is as it should be, I think. The Communion of Saints could never be contained within the walls of any church.

I'll try to get to church a bit earlier next week so I can take pictures of the unique interior of the chapel, which features a pulpit that rises high above and behind the altar. That may sound strange, but if you could see how small the chapel is, you would understand this to be an innovative, creative utilization of space.

This is the rector, Max J. Wolf, who preached a wonderful sermon about prayer, which some of you will remember I desperately needed.

I was driving home from New Jersey on Wednesday when I came upon a grisly accident scene. It horrified me and shook me to my core. Indeed, it shook everything I know and believe about prayer and turned my soul upside down. Your comments and personal emails have been a source of solace. I had no idea how much more healing I needed.

Max is a wonderful preacher. Like this chapel, he has his own style. I've described it before as improvisational jazz. First of all, he doesn't use a manuscript, which invokes instant awe in me. I have seen him bring newspapers, letters and books into the pulpit, but never a manuscript. For this preacher, tied as I am to my manuscript, that is pretty amazing.

It is obvious he preaches from a prepared heart which has been in deep prayer and meditation. He began by reciting the first verse of Psalm 138, "I will give thanks to you, O Lord, with my whole heart; before the gods I will sing your praise." He ended by singing "It's me, it's me O Lord, standing in the need of prayer."

He preached on the gospel, of course (Luke 11:1-13); specifically on the Lord's Prayer. In between, he read to a short passage from John Mcquarrie's "Principles of Christian Theology." Max underscored that prayer, for Macquarrie, is not intended to manipulate God, but to unify us with God. The impulse for prayer always comes from the Holy Spirit.

I needed to be reminded of that. I came home and got my copy of Macquarrie's book off my shelf and was reminded that prayer for Macquarrie acknowledges the "permeable presence" of God everywhere in creation.

He writes, "Intercessory prayer provides ... openings into the dense texture of the human situation through which can come the creative and healing power of the reality we call God," says Macquarrie. "Prayer, as petition and intercession, helps to make the human person porous to the divine reality" (from Owen F. Cummings's John Macquarrie, a Master of Theology, Paulist).

Something in my soul, something shaken and deeply disturbed by that grisly accident scene and the overwhelming need to do something concrete to help, was healed by this understanding of prayer.

Max had a small, personal book of prayer, given to him by the family of a parishioner at whose funeral Max had presided this week. In it were beautifully calligraphy prayers, all done by hand, which the man had collected and written over his 84 years of life.

Max read a portion of this one to us:

Little Gidding
T.S. Eliot

(No. 4 of Four Quartets)

If you came this way,
Taking any route, starting from anywhere,

At any time or at any season,
It would always be the same: you would have to put off
Sense and notion. You are not here to verify,
Instruct yourself, or inform curiosity
Or carry report. You are here to kneel
Where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more
Than an order of words, the conscious occupation
Of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living.
Here, the intersection of the timeless moment
Is England and nowhere. Never and always.

After Max read that, I discovered, for the first time since Wednesday, that I was finally able to draw a deep breath. I didn't know I hadn't.

I love going to church when I'm on vacation. It's one time when I know my soul will be healed and refreshed, along with my body and my mind, in places and at times I didn't even know needed healing and refreshment.

Thank you, Max, for being such a wonderful priest to this priest on vacation.

It was forty years ago today . . .

Note: This is part of a long piece which actually begins with an interview with Our +Gene. I've reversed the order. You can find the beginning of the interview at the end of this post and read it in its fullness at

The Scotsman

Andrew Collier
Saturday July 28, 2007

IT WAS FORTY YEARS AGO TODAY...


THE Sexual Offences Act, which partially decriminalised homosexual acts in private between two men, both of whom had to be over 21, was given Royal Assent 40 years ago today, on 28 July 1967, after a night of heated debate in the Commons. It applied only to England and Wales: Scotland would have to wait until 1980 for such liberalisation, while the Armed Forces remained exempt until 2000.

The Sexual Offences Act was significantly influenced by the Wolfenden Report of 1957, which recommended the decriminalisation of certain homosexual acts between consenting adults in the privacy of their homes, and established a certain legitimacy for same-sex relationships which hitherto had been mired in discrimination, repression and very necessary secrecy. The gay community had hitherto existed as a shady and persecuted subculture, perpetually fearful of discovery which might destroy lives and reputations. One of the bill’s sponsors, Lord Arran, commented: ‘Perhaps a million human beings will be able to live in greater peace. I find this an awesome and marvellous thing.’ He quoted from a letter Oscar Wilde, left, wrote after his release from Reading gaol: ‘Yes, we shall win in the end; but the road will be long and red with monstrous martyrdoms.’

The act set the age of consent between men at 21, and raised the penalties for certain ‘acts of gross indecency’.

North of the Border, where sexual activity between males, consenting or otherwise, remained punishable by heavy prison sentences, the Scottish Minorities Group, later to become the Scottish Homosexual Rights Group and then Outright Scotland, was established in 1969, its campaigning playing a significant part in prompting the Criminal Justice (Scotland) Act of 1980. The first International Gay Rights Conference was held in Edinburgh in 1974.

In the Eighties, while openly gay pop stars such as Boy George, Jimmy Sommerville and Frankie Goes to Hollywood gave a certain popular voice to the gay community, the continuing harassment and even murder of gay men prompted the formation of Outrage! And despite the advent of ‘gay pride’ (the UK’s first Gay Pride march was held in London in 1972; Glasgay was founded in 1993), prejudice hardly evaporated overnight - witness the ‘gay plague’ witchhunts during the AIDS epidemic of the 1980s and 1990s.

In February 1994, the age of consent for sex between men was reduced by parliament to 18 and, after two attempted blocks by the House of Lords, in 2000 the age of consent for gay men was lowered to 16, on a par with heterosexuals. A further step on the road to normalisation was taken on 18 November, 2004, with the Civil Partnerships Act. More than 15,500 gay and lesbian couples put a seal on their relationships between December 2005, when the first registrations took place, and December 2006.

Just this week, a small but telling victory was chalked up when the reggae star Buju Banton, whose 1990 hit Boom Bye Bye, which advocated the shooting of gay men, pledged to desist from singing homophobic lyrics.


Millions believe this man is the Antichrist
ANDREW COLLIER

FORTY years after the decriminalisation of homosexuality in England and Wales, American The Rt Rev V Gene Robinson, the world’s first openly gay bishop, explains to ANDREW COLLIER in an exclusive interview what it’s like to be many Christians’ number one enemy.

THE Devil has arranged to meet me in the lobby of a London tourist hotel. It’s an odd choice of venue: Westminster Cathedral, the great temple of Roman Catholicism in England, is close by; and a glimpse of the fire and colour of Hell would have been more interesting.

Nor does he look like Satan. No horns, no tail, no pitchfork, no smoke and sulphur. He’s of medium height, thinning hair, wearing a smart shirt and tie. He’s immediately warm, friendly, open and assured. I like him.

Yet millions of Christians the world over are convinced - absolutely assured - that this man is the Antichrist. They believe he is the Devil, sent to destroy the church from within. Welcome to the fan club of the Rt Rev V Gene Robinson, Primate of the American diocese of New Hampshire and the world’s first openly gay bishop.

This week may mark the 40th anniversary of the legalisation of homosexuality in England and Wales, but attitudes in many ways still lag behind legislation. Even on this side of the Atlantic, Robinson’s public homosexuality has made him the most controversial figure in worldwide Anglicanism since Henry VIII split with Rome in 1538 and created the church.

Read the rest here:

Or, cut and paste this into your browser

http://living.scotsman.com/index.cfm?id=1175952007

Oscar The Hospice Cat

Especially for my Ms. Conroy, Anne Bennett (St. Paul's own PETA activist), and, of course, Maddy


Oscar the Cat Predicts Patients Deaths
By RAY HENRY
Associated Press Writer
Thu Jul 26, 10:43 AM ET

PROVIDENCE, R.I. - Oscar the cat seems to have an uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours. His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means they have less than four hours to live.

"He doesn't make too many mistakes. He seems to understand when patients are about to die," said Dr. David Dosa in an interview. He describes the phenomenon in a poignant essay in Thursday's issue of the New England Journal of Medicine.

"Many family members take some solace from it. They appreciate the companionship that the cat provides for their dying loved one," said Dosa, a geriatrician and assistant professor of medicine at Brown University.

The 2-year-old feline was adopted as a kitten and grew up in a third-floor dementia unit at the Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center. The facility treats people with Alzheimer's, Parkinson's disease and other illnesses.

After about six months, the staff noticed Oscar would make his own rounds, just like the doctors and nurses. He'd sniff and observe patients, then sit beside people who would wind up dying in a few hours.

Dosa said Oscar seems to take his work seriously and is generally aloof. "This is not a cat that's friendly to people," he said.

Oscar is better at predicting death than the people who work there, said Dr. Joan Teno of Brown University, who treats patients at the nursing home and is an expert on care for the terminally ill

She was convinced of Oscar's talent when he made his 13th correct call. While observing one patient, Teno said she noticed the woman wasn't eating, was breathing with difficulty and that her legs had a bluish tinge, signs that often mean death is near.

Oscar wouldn't stay inside the room though, so Teno thought his streak was broken. Instead, it turned out the doctor's prediction was roughly 10 hours too early. Sure enough, during the patient's final two hours, nurses told Teno that Oscar joined the woman at her bedside.

Doctors say most of the people who get a visit from the sweet-faced, gray-and-white cat are so ill they probably don't know he's there, so patients aren't aware he's a harbinger of death. Most families are grateful for the advanced warning, although one wanted Oscar out of the room while a family member died. When Oscar is put outside, he paces and meows his displeasure.

No one's certain if Oscar's behavior is scientifically significant or points to a cause. Teno wonders if the cat notices telltale scents or reads something into the behavior of the nurses who raised him.

Nicholas Dodman, who directs an animal behavioral clinic at the Tufts University Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine and has read Dosa's article, said the only way to know is to carefully document how Oscar divides his time between the living and dying.

If Oscar really is a furry grim reaper, it's also possible his behavior could be driven by self-centered pleasures like a heated blanket placed on a dying person, Dodman said.

Nursing home staffers aren't concerned with explaining Oscar, so long as he gives families a better chance at saying goodbye to the dying.

Oscar recently received a wall plaque publicly commending his "compassionate hospice care."

For the original article, you can cut and paste this into your browser http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070726/ap_on_fe_st/death_cat
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