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Bishop Gene Robinson

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Bishop Gene was on The Daily Show last night.

He TOTALLY rocked!

The only other bishop to be on a comedy program that made me laugh like that was when Jack Spong was on Bill Mahr. Bill asked Jack what he thought of LA. Jack said, in that wonderful Virginia lilt, "Well the traffic here really moves much faster than in NJ. Crossing the streets here helps me better understand the Prayer Book words of the difference between the 'quick and the dead'".

Bill was on the floor.

Check it out - Bishop Gene Robinson, prophet, poet and STAR!

(Pay no attention to that grating noise coming from the right side of the aisle. That's just the Trolls, gnashing their teeth in utter jealousy!)

And, check out +Gene's blog entry: http://canterburytalesfromthefringe.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-day.html

Calvin and Hobbs - 1994

Click on the cartoon to enlarge it, any you'll be able to read the words.

And we act as if our current economic crisis happened over night. . . .and that it's all about the Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. . . . and it has nothing to do with greed or lack of accountability. . . .that it was all completely out of our control.

This is why they call it a "depression."

A new day has dawned on a new era. The light is shining. Look around. Take a closer look. Now, look again.

We've got an 'act' to clean up. A few of them, as a matter of fact.

Time to roll up our sleeves and get to work, children.

Today in history . . .

January 20th

1265 Britain's House of Commons, which became a model for parliamentary bodies, met for the first time.

1783 U.S. and British representatives signed a preliminary "Cessation of Hostilities," which ended the fighting in the Revolutionary War.

1892 The first officially recognized basketball game was played at the YMCA gym in Springfield, Mass.

1945 Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the only president to be elected to four terms in office, was inaugurated to his final term. He died three months later and was succeeded by Vice President Harry Truman.

1961 John Fitzgerald Kennedy began his presidency with inauguration ceremonies on the newly renovated east front of the Capitol.

1981 Ronald Reagan was inaugurated as the 40th president of the United States. That same day, 52 American hostages were released by Iran after 444 days in captivity.

1990 At least 62 civilians were killed and more than 200 wounded when the Soviet army stormed into Baku to end what Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev called fratricidal killing between Muslim Azerbaijanis and Christian Armenians.

1993 Bill Clinton was sworn in as the 42nd president of the United States.

1993 Oscar-winning actress Audrey Hepburn died of cancer at her home in Switzerland. She was 63.

1995 The United States announced it was easing the trade embargo in effect against North Korea since the Korean War.

1995 A strike-shortened National Hockey League season opened with teams playing a 48-game schedule instead of the usual 84.

1996 Yasser Arafat was elected president of the Palestinian Authority with 88 percent of the vote.

1997 U.S. President Bill Clinton was inaugurated for his second term in office.

1997 Millionaire Steve Fossett landed in northern India after a record-setting bid to become the first person to circle the globe in a hot air balloon.

2001 George W. Bush was inaugurated as the 43rd president of the United States.

2001 Just hours before leaving office, U.S. President Bill Clinton issued 176 pardons -- a number of them controversial.

2003 Britain said it was sending 26,000 troops to the Persian Gulf for possible deployment to Iraq but France said it wouldn't support a U.N. resolution for military action.

2005 George Bush was sworn in for his second term as U.S. president.

2006 Lawrence Franklin, a former U.S. State Department analyst and Iran expert, was sentenced to 12 years in prison for passing classified information to Israel and two pro-Israeli lobbyists.

2007 U.S. Sen. Hillary Clinton, D-N.Y., became the first former first lady to seek the U.S. presidency when she entered the race for the 2008 Democratic nomination.

2007 Ailing Cuban leader Fidel Castro was "fighting for his life," Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez said in a speech in Brazil.

2008 Israeli Cabinet ministers called for the death of Hezbollah chief Hassan Nasrallah, who claimed to have the remains of Israeli soldiers killed in Lebanon.

Praise Song for the Day

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There is so much about the day that was amazing and powerfully evocative of deep, deep emotion. So many images in the midst of a veritable tsunami of words - historic, challenging, inspiring. (Okay, and occasionally, annoying. I mean, did we really have to endure all the "news" about the fashions of Michele Obama? She's a graduate of Harvard Law, for pity's sake! Oh well . . . )

One of the most compelling images for me was that of Dick Chenney in a wheel chair, leaving the office of Vice President. He had apparently hurt his back picking up a packed box, ready for the move. It was a powerfully symbolic.

You can see and hear the videos of the invocation and the benediction over at The Episcopal Cafe. Compare and contrast, children. One was the old, one was the new, and the surprise was that the new vision, the new energy, the new power, came from the old.

Well, no surprise, really. They just saved the best for last.

But, at the end of the day, it is the images and poetry of America's poet, Elizabeth Alexander, that I find continue to feed and nourish my soul.

She asked, "What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance."

Oh, Lord! Just what my weary soul needed to hear!

Here she is - and here is the whole poem.

I hope you are as nourished by these images and words as I am.

Praise Song for the Day

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others’ eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

A farmer consider the changing sky; A teacher says, “Take out your pencils. Begin.”

We encounter each other in words, Words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; Words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, “I need to see what’s on the other side; I know there’s something better down the road.”

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by “Love thy neighbor as thy self.”

Others by first do no harm, or take no more than you need.

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

The Inauguration of Hope

I'm on my way to the office. I don't know why. I won't get much work done today. Like everyone else, I'll be glued to my computer screen, watching history unfold.

My dear friend, the Rev'd Dr. Paul Smith sent me his reflections of the day. He's there in D.C. with three generations of his family.

Dr. Paul is the former Senior Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, a Civil Rights activist, community organizer, author and dear friend - my 'soul friend'.

You can read his reflections here: http://blog.revdrpaulsmith.org/2009/01/20/remembering-dr-king-at-the-inauguration-of-barack-obama.aspx

I found myself writing this to him:

I'm glued to the television set waiting for the Obama's to emerge from Blair House on their way to St. John's Episcopal Church. I'm cringing because they are running late - because we all know the stereotypical jokes about people of color being late. I find myself wanting to "google" how many previous presidents have been behind schedule so I can defend them.

I just saw the Obama's emerge - 13 minutes late, it is being reported - and on the first glimpse of them emerging from the green canopy and into the new Presidential Limo, all my anxieties melted away.

I realized that most of my anxiety was about not about the racism - that has always been with us - but really fearing that the dream would not come true. That this day would not really happen - because of the racism.

It has. Oh, Lord, it is true. The day has come. And Obama has arrived exactly when he was needed.

Have a GREAT day. Take lots of pictures.

Never mind. The images that emerge this day will be in my heart forever.

G'won. Go watch. Go see. So you can tell your children and your grandchildren and your great-grandchildren.

You watched the dawning of a new era. You watched the inauguration of hope.

It's been a long time comin', but I know, change gonna come.

Team Obama: "Our Bad"

Barack Obama's inaugural committee is taking the blame for a scheduling miscue that left gay Episcopal Bishop Gene Robinson's prayer out of HBO's live broadcast of yesterday's inaugural megaconcert.

They did the right thing.

Rachel Maddow is reporting that HBO will add +Gene's prayer to all of its Encore Performances, the first being tomorrow, Tuesday, Inauguration Day, at 1 PM and again at 9:30 PM, as well as its webcasts www.hbo.com

A PIC source reports that some clips from the Lincoln Memorial event, including Bishop [Gene] Robinson's prayer, will be played on the Mall prior to the swearing in ceremony.

And, I understand that +Gene will be on the Daily Show tomorrow.

So, can I just say? WOO HOO!!!!

It is said that there is a rule in the universe that whenever anyone makes a decision to no longer be abused or oppressed or have her/his truth suppressed, something in the cosmos shifts and will never again be the same.

Say it with me, children: Yes we can!

Here's his interview earlier today on MSNBC with Andrea Mitchell.

As 'The Countdown' begins . . .

. . . a little 'housekeeping' - Dubya-style.

Invocation Drama

Thanks to Christianity Today for this video of Gene's invocation at the "We Are One" Concert yesterday on the steps of the Lincoln Monument.

Apparently, HBO is denying responsibility for it and a buzz about this topic has already started on NPR. It's being reported that those near the podium could hear it fine, but those with places further away didn't hear it until about half-way through.

Based on the comments on several of the blogs, there's lots of unhappiness about this - and rightly so. Predictably, lots of fingers are being pointed. HBO says that Team-Obama decided that the prayer was 'pre-show'. Hmmmm . . . .

You know, I'm thinking that +Gene's prayer will get more attention because it wasn't widely heard than if it had been. Woops! There goes that theory, right?

Hopefully, we'll get an 'official' explanation. An apology would be great, but I'm not holding my breath.

Until then, enjoy this.

And, catch up on ALL the dish at Episcopal Cafe.

UPDATE: "We regret the error"

Check out this story at The Huffington Post.

Here's the money quote from the Presidential Inauguration Team:

"We had always intended and planned for Rt. Rev. Robinson's invocation to be included in the televised portion of yesterday's program. We regret the error in executing this plan - but are gratified that hundreds of thousands of people who gathered on the mall heard his eloquent prayer for our nation that was a fitting start to our event." -- PIC communications director Josh Earnest.

Welcome to Washington, kids. Fasten your seat belts. It's going to be a bumpy ride. The good news is that the boys and girls on Team Obama have a much better idea of who they are working with. The LGBT community also knows how to say "Yes We Can."

Say what????

Apparently, there is some truth to the rumor that HBO's microphone system did not function through most of Bishop Robinson's invocation at the "We Are One" concert on Sunday. Booooo-hisssss!!!

I encourage everyone to write to HBO and register your complaint. You can do that here. No, it won't change anything - THIS TIME - but it will send a strong message to the producers of HBO that prayer is important, and that as this man is the first open, honest LGBT bishop in a 'mainline' religious denomination, they missed an important historic moment.

When you write, please don't yell or curse or say nasty things. Simply tell them that you are upset or discouraged or yes, even angry. Just don't try to 'shame and blame'. Let's leave that technique to the Trolls over at Viagraland - where it belongs.

I know, I know. They make a lot of noise, and it is distracting, but just ignore the gleeful handclapping of the Trolls over all of this. They reveal more about themselves and the state of their spiritual lives than they say anything bad about +Gene.

Head on over to Susan Russell's Inch to see more pictures and a good round up of the news reporting on the event.

Here's something from the blog "TMP Cafe". When things go wrong - especially 'human error'(and even when it's 'divine intervention') - it's always good to find the humor in it all.

Top 10 reasons HBO censored Gene Robinson
January 18, 2009, 9:34PM

I heard the opening of the inaugural concert live on NPR and then watched the rebroadcast on HBO--no invocation by gay bishop Gene Robinson. More details and a link to write HBO here at JoeMyGod's blog, but while we wait for HBO to explain, here are my top ten reasons the invocation was not broadcast:

1. HBO sound system cannot broadcast gay voices.
2. Program ran over schedule, so HBO went back in their time machine and cut the beginning of the live broadcast.
3. Appearance of a gay men's chorus went way over HBO's 'gay quota' for the event.
4. HBO is a family-friendly network that does not carry offensive material like frontal nudity, profanity, or bishops.
5. Ellen DeGeneres was jealous.
6. Dumbledore was jealous.
7. HBO was warned that terrorists were watching for a signal that America was gay weak.
8. Rick Warren was jealous.
9. Everyone knows all gays are atheists.
10. Sarah Palin used her special anti-Russian spyware to block the signal.

+Gene Goes to Washington - Prays

Bishop Gene Robinson is in Washington, D.C. to deliver the inaugural prayer before tomorrow's festivities begin. I understand it will be carried FREE on HBO, so tune in, sisters and brothers, and watch the fun.

No promise that they will include +Gene's prayer, which is appended below. As +Gene points out, it IS Entertainment.

You can follow his adventure on his blog here. It's the same url as the one he used this summer at what I fondly called, "Lambeth for the Rest of Us." http://canterburytalesfromthefringe.blogspot.com/2009/01/washington-tales-from-closer-to-center.html

Here's a snipett: It's very early on Sunday morning. The quiet outside belies the exuberance that promises to explode today here in Washington.

This new "chapter" in my "Canterbury Tales from the Fringe" blog needs to be renamed, of course. It could be "Mr. Robinson goes to Washington," or "Oh my God! How did I ever get to this moment?" Instead, I'm calling it "Washington Tales from Closer to the Center." After the experience of being on the fringe in Canterbury this summer, I am struck that the new President of the United States is including me in a way the Anglican Communion was not able to this summer. Funny, isn't it, and sad, that the culture is modeling for the Church the inclusion meant for all of God's children.

And, from the Diocese of New Hampshire's web page: http://nhepiscopal.org

A Prayer for the Nation and Our Next President, Barack Obama
By The Rt. Rev. V. Gene Robinson, Episcopal Bishop of
New Hampshire

Opening Inaugural Event
Lincoln Memorial, Washington, DC
January 18, 2009


Welcome to Washington! The fun is about to begin, but first, please join me in pausing for a moment, to ask God's blessing upon our nation and our next president.


O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…

Bless us with tears – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.

Bless us with anger – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.

Bless us with discomfort – at the easy, simplistic "answers" we've preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.

Bless us with patience – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be "fixed" anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.

Bless us with humility – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.

Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance – replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.

Bless us with compassion and generosity – remembering that every religion's God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.

And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.

Give him wisdom beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln's reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for ALL the people.

Give him a quiet heart, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.

Give him stirring words, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.

Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.

Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.

Give him the strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods.

And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we're asking FAR too much of this one. We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.

AMEN.

Are you called?

“You will see greater things than these.” John 1:43-51
II Epiphany – January 18
The Episcopal Church of St. Paul
(the Rev’d Dr.) Elizabeth Kaeton, rector and pastor

I’m going to give you a little gift this morning. Something most people in the pew only dream of when it comes time for the sermon. I’m going to ask you to close your eyes. Yes. Close your eyes. That way, the preacher won’t know if you’re nodding off – taking a well-deserved nap during the next 12 minutes or so while the preacher ‘does her thing”. She won’t know if you are listening intently or taking a little snooze. So, g’wan. Close your eyes.

I want you to close your eyes and imagine that you are the young boy Samuel. You are on duty in the temple. Your job is to lay down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God is kept. The old man, the priest and prophet Eli, is in his room nearby. His eyesight has failed him as his years have advanced. Your job is also to serve him.

As for you, you are beginning to think you are hearing things that are not there. Two times you think Eli has called you. And two times, Eli says to you, “I did not call. Lie down again.” The third time you think you hear Eli call you, Eli perceives that it is the Lord who is calling you and he says to you, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’”

I want you to keep your eyes closed and imagine now, that you are no longer Samuel. You are Nathaniel. You friend Phillip has just come to you. Phillip has just been found by the man named Jesus, a man from Nazareth; a rabbi some claim to be the Messiah, the King of the Jews.

Jesus has found Phillip, a man from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter who have already been called by Jesus to be his disciples. Philip has found you, a young Jewish man named Nathaniel, and says to you with great excitement, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus, son of Joseph from Nazareth.”

And, you are astonished. You can hardly believe what your friend Phillip is saying to you. You think to yourself, “He must be mad!” Instead, you say to your friend, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” And Philip, brushing aside your obvious sarcasm, says to you, “Come and see.” So, you run to see this Jesus, but you hid behind a fig tree, watching. Waiting.

Now, I want you to move from imagining yourself in ancient Palestine, from being Samuel in the temple and Nathaniel hiding behind that fig tree. I want you to imagine yourself in Baltimore, Maryland. Yes, Baltimore, Maryland.

It is centuries later. It is the early 1960’s. You have fallen in love with a person whose race is different from your own. You know this is real. You know this is love. You know, but you do not understand, really, that this love is against the law. Interracial marriage is against the law in the state of Maryland at this time in history. And yet, you love this person enough to risk all of the scorn that will bring upon you. You love this person enough to break the law. It is 1960.

And so, you decide to do so. You tell one of your friends about it, and she says to you (like one of the characters from ‘Hairspray”),“You're about to see a whole lot of stupid coming from a mess of ugly." You don’t care. You love this person enough to be married. And so, you do.

Now, keep your eyes closed. It is now January, 2009. You are still in Baltimore, Maryland. You are almost 50 years old. You are the child of an interracial couple who could not get married in the city in which you now live. You have married a person of another racial and ethnic background and have two beautiful interracial children who do not know – could never know – the prejudice and oppression known by their grandparents and great grandparents. Oh, racism rears its ugly head, from time to time, but there is no doubt that times have change. This is a whole new time. This is a whole new world. A world your parents couldn’t have imagined 40 years before.

Barack Hussein Obama and Joe Biden are ridding the Inauguration Train through Baltimore – the oddest interracial couple ever. Never could your parents or grandparents have imagined that in the place where slaves were sold in the open market, the son of a nation whose people were once were sold off in slavery is making his way to Washington, DC to become the 44th President of the U.S.

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of Baltimore, MD? Or, Wilmington, DE? Or, Honolulu, HI? Or, Chicago, Illinois? Or, Chatham, NJ? Or, the place of YOUR birth? I suppose it must be asked: Can anything good come out of Washington, D.C.?

Okay, you will need to open your eyes and your ears now and listen.

On Tuesday, the day after we remember the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., together, we will inaugurate a new era in our common lives of faith. Together, we the people will make history. So, it is no coincidence that our scripture lessons have to do with the call of Samuel and the call of Nathaniel. It is not even a surprise that St. Paul is talking to us about the holiness of our bodies, exhorting us to know that our body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, and that ‘you are not your own.’

“You are not your own,” says St. Paul to the church in Corinth. Yes, yes. It’s easy to lose that message in the midst of all that talk about ‘fornication’ and ‘prostitution’. “You were bought with a price,” says St. Paul, “now glorify God in your body.”

You are not your own. Neither was Samuel. Neither was Nathaniel. Or Phillip. Or Andrew. Or Peter. Or George. Or Barack. Or you. Or me. We are the Lord’s, and we, like them, are called to glorify God in our bodies, with our whole lives – our whole hearts and souls; our whole minds and bodies – not to cheapen the gift of our freedom by compromising our integrity.

We are called out of the places we were born: Fall River, MA. Chatham, NJ. Staten Island, NY. Philadelphia, PA. Sioux City, Iowa. Bayonne, NJ. Chicago, IL. Jackson, MI. Atlanta, GA. Beijing, China. Denver, CO. San Francisco, CA.

As Christians we are called out of places of dubious distinction to places where we can make a distinct difference. We are called to be vehicles of hope. We are called to be agents of change. We are called to be Christ’s representatives of God’s unconditional love for all humankind. We are called to make our own unique mark in history. Which is why, as Christians, as followers of Christ Jesus, we are called to make a difference in this world.

We are brinked on an amazing time, my friends. There have been fewer times when we have been more fragile as a nation. Our economic status is still precarious. There is talk now of ‘Iraqi good enough’, as in ‘we are outta here.’ The future of Afghanistan is still bleak. Violence continues in the Gaza Strip. At home, Social Security, Health Care and Education are in need of serious reform. Immigration, along with concerns about our national security and the environment continue to need serious attention. America, the land of the free and the home of the brave, needs to stop the torture of detained suspected war criminals. Now.

One man cannot do it all. As a matter of fact, two men can’t do it all. Indeed, a whole congress full of men and women cannot do it all. We don’t need a Messiah. We already have a Savior. What we need is a nation of people who know they are called to be vehicles of hope and agents of change, envoys of compassion and ambassadors of love.

Now, more than ever, we need each other. Now, more than ever, we need strong leadership. Now, more than ever, we need accountability. Now, more than ever, we need to listen to the voice of God. We need to humble ourselves, and keep watch by the temple. We need to keep ourselves close to the ark of the Covenant and, with Samuel, our ancient brother, stand ready to say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Now, more than ever, we need to know that even if we hide behind the fig trees in our lives, Jesus knows. God will find us. Jesus sees us. Jesus will call to us as he called to Nathaniel and Phillip, Andrew and Simon. And, if we answer, it is promised that ‘we will see greater things than these.”

Just as Jesus saw Nathaniel under the fig tree before Phillip called him, God sees us where we are even before we can see ourselves. God meets us where we are. Loves us as we are. Calls us to be more than we think we are or could ever dream to be.

We are not Samuel or Nathaniel or, for that matter, Barack or Joe. We can only imagine what their lives were – or are –like. Our job is not to spend our time living other people’s lives. Our job – our call – is to imagine the life God imagined when God first conceived of us. Before, as the Psalmist tells us, we were ‘knit together in our mother’s womb.

Our job is to work on the ‘content of our character’ of which Martin Luther King spoke, so that when we are judged, not by the color of our skin or our ethnicity or our social class status or the place of our education or the content of our bank account or stock portfolio, it can be said that we are the temple of the Holy Spirit who is within us.

It begins with taking the image inside our hearts, allowing those images of the call of Samuel and Nathaniel to find their way and implant themselves into the fertile ground of our souls so that we, too, may know when God calls us in the cold, dark days ahead to do a mighty work for Jesus.

We are all called. That’s not the question. The question is, will you listen? Will you answer?

Together, we will make history on Tuesday. Historians will write about these times, these days. But, today is tomorrow’s history. What will history say about you? What will history say about us? What will history say, of these times, about ‘we the people’? Amen.

One, cold Saturday morning: A Metaphor

I've never seen the marsh frozen.

Ever.

Yes, it's that cold.

The frozen water clings to the marsh like ice on an old man's beard.

I figured the gulls must be hungry. They were gathering at the peer, all hunkered down against the cold chill. I felt sorry for them, even though most of the time they can be pretty annoying.

They shriek all the time and for no apparent reason other than to hear themselves shriek. And, they "drop" things on the deck - shells, half-eaten crab carcasses, and well, let's just say, "the remains of the feast."

This morning was too cold for them to even shriek. Since the water is frozen, they can't get any fresh fish or crabs from the marsh.

This poor gull was too cold to fly, so he just stopped on the ice. Poor baby.

So, I gathered up some stale bread and flung it out to them. As a special treat, I even opened up a can of tuna and spread it out on the ice.

They were THRILLED.

At this moment, the Inauguration Train is making its way from Wilmington, where Joe Biden lives, through Baltimore, to Philadelphia, before making their way back to Washington, DC for the historic inauguration on Tuesday.

I lived for a few years in Baltimore and knew sons and daughters of interracial parents who had not been allowed to marry in that city because interracial marriage was against the law.

That heinous law was repealed less than 40 years ago. And now, two generations later, here come Obama and Biden, elected President and Vice President of the United States - an interracial 'couple' such as could never have been imagined 40 years ago.

As I've watched the train make it's way, I've already gone through a box of Kleenex. It's simply amazing. I can't imagine what it's like for some of my friends.

In some ways, the frozen marsh and the train are a bit of a metaphor for me.

I know. I know. You can always depend on an Episcopal priest to wring every ounce of meaning from a metaphor. Especially a weepy Episcopal priest.

I do not count Obama as 'The Messiah'. I do think Dubya and Cheney deserves as much credit for creating the climate which made the election of BHO possible, if not even inevitable. I also believe that we are the hope we want. It's up to us, now, to be vehicles of that hope and agents of change.

At least someone is listening. Someone is hearing. Someone with the power to help change things.

But, you know, that train is as exciting and welcome to me as that bread on the frozen water was to those gulls.

It holds the hope that someone knows. Someone cares. Someone is doing something - even a little something - to change the present reality.

On this one, cold Saturday morning, I find myself occasionally weeping with gratitude.

Think I'll go spread some more bread on the frozen water.

Rhetorical 'Spin' 501: A whole new standard

Note: This brings 'spin cycle' to a whole new level. Hat tip to Doug for this one.

Judy Wallman, a professional genealogy researcher here in southern California, was doing some personal work on her own family tree. She discovered that Harry Reid's great-great uncle, Remus Reid, was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Montana in 1889. Both Judy and Harry Reid share this common ancestor.

On the back of the picture Judy obtained during her research is this inscription: 'Remus Reid, horse thief, sent to Montana Territorial Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Montana Flyer six times. Caught by Pinkerton detectives, convicted and hanged in 1889.'

So Judy recently e-mailed Congressman Harry Reid for information about their great-great uncle.

Believe it or not, Harry Reid's staff sent back the following biographical sketch for her genealogy research:

'Remus Reid was a famous cowboy in the Montana Territory . His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Montana railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In 1889, Remus passed away during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed.'

Back into the middle . . .

. . .this time, it's religion and politics.

An early morning note from +Gene.

Well, in a few hours, after an ordination this morning, we'll be off to Washington for the inauguration. VERY exciting. Here are a few items that might be of interest. Please feel free to share them with whomever you deem appropriate.


1. I will be blogging from Washington, using my summer's blogspot: http://www.canterburytalesfromthefringe.blogspot.com/
Perhaps this should be renamed "Tales from Closer to the Center" but I didn't have time!

2. Sunday's opening inaugural event at the Lincoln Memorial will be taped by HBO. You may be able to watch it LIVE on HBO (I'm not sure.) What I DO know is that HBO will be airing it on Sunday evening -- and the signal will be available to EVERYONE, WHETHER OR NOT you are a subscriber to HBO! This may turn out to be an edited version of the event. Given that HBO is an ENTERTAINMENT channel, my prayer may be edited out. Who knows?! It's hard to understand why Bruce Springsteen and Stevie Wonder would be more important than the Bishop of New Hampshire, but there you go!

(Note to some of you on the Right: This is a little joke. +Gene is making a little joke here. Not a very sophisticated one, but it may still confuse some of you. This is only a joke. If this had been a serious comment, you would have been able to smell the hubris. That smell is not hubris. It's Aramis Cologne, which, for whatever reason, always seems to me to be what hubris must smell like. Must be the sandalwood or something. We now return to our previously scheduled announcement.)

3. The text of my inaugural event prayer will be available on our diocesan website (http://nhepiscopal.org/) on Sunday afternoon.

4. On Tuesday night, after attending the lgbt ball, sponsored by HRC and others, I will be Jon Stewart's guest on The Daily Show, a special live-from-Washington edition. At least here in the East, it is broadcast at 11:00pm on the Comedy Channel, and then rebroadcast the next night. Check local listings.

This promises to be an awesomely wonderful time. I am so honored and humbled to be so included. The President Elect has invited me to attend a small, private worship service on the morning of the inauguration, to attend the swearing in/inauguration itself, to view the parade from the Presidential viewing stand, and to attend the National Prayer Service at National Cathedral on Wednesday. I hope that through these invitations, in some small way, ALL of you will feel included in these events by our next president.

Please pray for me as I undertake this awesome honor. I hope to do us and the Episcopal Church proud!

+Gene

Gay but equal?

John Foster Dulles said to to Dwight D. Eisenhower: ' . . . put the facts on top of the table' . . and the Commission on Civil Rights was born.

Mary Frances Berry, chairwoman of the Commission on Civil Rights from 1993 - 20004, is calling for, "The creation of a new, independent human and civil rights commission (which) could help us determine our next steps in the pursuit of freedom and justice in our society. A number of explosive issues like immigration reform await such a commission, but recommendations for resolving the controversies over the rights of gays, lesbians and transgendered people should be its first order of business.

It's things like this that give me real hope.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/16/opinion/16mfberry.html?th&emc=th

Gay but Equal?

By MARY FRANCES BERRY
Published: January 15, 2009

Philadelphia

AS the country prepares to enter the Obama era, anxiety over the legal status and rights of gays and lesbians is growing. Barack Obama’s invitation to the Rev. Rick Warren, an evangelical pastor who opposes same-sex marriage, to give the invocation at his inauguration comes just as the hit movie “Milk” reminds us of the gay rights activism of the 1970s. Supporters of gay rights wonder if the California Supreme Court might soon confirm the legitimacy of Proposition 8, passed by state voters in November, which declares same-sex marriage illegal — leaving them no alternative but to take to the streets.

To help resolve the issue of gay rights, President-elect Obama should abolish the now moribund Commission on Civil Rights and replace it with a new commission that would address the rights of many groups, including gays.

The fault lines beneath the debate over gay rights are jagged and deep. Federal Social Security and tax benefits from marriage that straight people take for granted are denied to most gays in committed relationships. And because Congress has failed to enact a federal employment nondiscrimination act, bias against gays in the workplace remains a constant threat.

Gays are at risk under the military’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. And people who are only assumed to be homosexual have been subject to hate crimes. José and Romel Sucuzhañay, two brothers, were attacked in New York City last month by men yelling anti-gay and anti-Latino epithets. José Sucuzhañay died from being beaten with a bottle and a baseball bat. Yet the effort in Congress to enact a law that would increase the punishment for hate crimes against gays and lesbians is going nowhere.

Only two states, Massachusetts and Connecticut, permit gay marriage. New York acknowledges marriages from those states and from other countries, despite the federal Defense of Marriage Act of 1996, which was meant to allow other states not to recognize gay marriages performed elsewhere. Vermont, New Jersey and New Hampshire permit civil unions, which provide gay partners the rights, protections and responsibilities of marriage. On the other hand, a referendum that just passed in Arkansas goes beyond banning gay marriage to prohibit the adoption of children by unmarried couples. Mississippi, Florida and Utah have similar bans. And many Americans believe their religion forbids gay marriage or even civil unions.

In the 1950s, race relations in America generated escalating tension and strife. As Secretary of State John Foster Dulles told President Dwight Eisenhower, other nations vilified us for our treatment of “negroes” as less-than-first-class citizens. It was in this context that Congress, in 1957, granted Eisenhower’s request for an independent civil rights commission to “put the facts on top of the table.”

The commission conducted interviews and public hearings, prepared detailed reports and recommended new protections that would ultimately be passed in the form of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. These laws embodied the goals of the protestors who marched, went to jail and died to end racial discrimination.

The commission became what the Rev. Theodore Hesburgh, who was the chairman from 1969 to 1972, called the “conscience of the government” on civil rights issues.

There is no need to analogize the battle for the rights of gay and lesbian people to the struggle of African Americans to overcome slavery, Jim Crow and continued discrimination. But as Coretta Scott King said to me as she tried to imagine what position the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would take on “don’t ask, don’t tell”: “What’s the yardstick by which we should decide that gay rights are less important than other human rights we care about?”

The Commission on Civil Rights has been crippled since the Reagan years by the appointments of commissioners who see themselves as agents of the presidential administration rather than as independent watchdogs. The creation of a new, independent human and civil rights commission could help us determine our next steps in the pursuit of freedom and justice in our society. A number of explosive issues like immigration reform await such a commission, but recommendations for resolving the controversies over the rights of gays, lesbians and transgendered people should be its first order of business.

Mary Frances Berry, the chairwoman of the Commission on Civil Rights from 1993 to 2004, is the author of “And Justice for All: The United States Commission on Civil Rights and the Continuing Struggle for Freedom in America.”

For the bible tells me so . . .

. . .went very, very well last night at Trinity Cathedral in Easton, MD.

The documentary was shown first and I must say, it gets more powerful every time I watch it. I 'hear' different things.

Like: Yes, you can read in the bible the following words: 'Homosexuality is an abomination'. However, that's not what the bible says. There is a difference between how you read the bible and what the bible says - depending on how you read it.

"An abomination" refers to the prevailing cultural and religious standard in that day. This is why the prohibitions against homosexuality are in with other sexual restrictions, like having sex during a woman's menstruating cycle, as well as dietary abominations, etc.

Leviticus is all about building up those who had fled from Egypt having been held in captivity and in bondage for all those centuries. Let's not waste "seed", which they felt was nascent and contained everything for procreation, on mastorbation or having sex when fertilization is not as possible or with another man.

It was also a way for the community to have a sense of atonement with God for whatever it was they had done (shame and blame) to anger God so that they ended up in slavery. If we can stay pure, the thinking went, we can stay closer to God and the closer we are to God, the less likely harm will come to us.

The prohibition against homosexual acts (because homosexuals as a demographic of people was not known in antiquity) was so powerful because it instilled a fear of God, a national and religious identity, and misogyny (Don't let our men be treated like women), all in one.

That was helpful to hear again.

My panelists were all brilliant. You can see us all in the pictures, together with the organizers. There's Bishop Bud Shand, the big guy in the blue sweater standing next to Mark Harris and directly behind Ted Mollogen there, in the middle chair (fourth one in from the left).

The Cathedral was PACKED, the questions were thoughtful, the food was delicious and the hospitality couldn't have been more generous and gracious.

I am convinced that it is from gatherings such as these that real social and spiritual change happens. That gathering last night was more effective than any 10 resolutions that have or might pass General Convention.

So, from that heady experience to the mundane. It's Friday. My day off. And, there are chores to do. I'm off now to Dover, DE to have my car serviced, then to RB to get my hairs cut (And not a minute too soon. I am having a Very Bad Hair Day).

Another day, another fifty cents in the Realm of God.

I must say that, on the drive down here yesterday I had this thought in my head. I woke up with it this morning. I think I'm meant to share it with y'all:

I believe it was a former Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, who said, "Sometimes we succeed, and God is present. Sometimes we fail, and God is present. Whether we succeed or fail, God is present."

So now g'won. Get on wid yo sassy selves. I'll catch up with you later.

Update: Thanks to Kelly Malone, one of the organizers of this event, for identifying everyone in the picture.

Back row, left to right: Rev. Phyllis Spiegel, Karen Kohn, Rev. Mark Harris, Bishop Bud Shand, Rev. Heather Cook, Rev. Paul Winters
Front row, left to right: Kelley Malone, Ted Mollegen :-), and Rev. Elizabeth Kaeton

On the road again

I am leaving later this morning to drive to Trinity Cathedral in Easton, MD to be part of a panel to discuss the award-winning documentary, "For the Bible Tells Me So."

With me will be the brilliant and amazing Mark Harris, blogger of the distinguished and intelligent Preludium, Ted Mollegen, a dear, long time friend and deputy from Connecticut with whom I worked for five years as part of the New Commandment Task Force. There may be a few others and I apologize if I do not have all the the participants correct.

We will be joined by Bud Shand, bishop of the Diocese of Easton, Heather Cook, canon to the Ordinary, as well as, I suspect, the Dean of the Cathedral.

I am honored and delighted to have been asked to be part of such an important occasion in the life of this diocese.

The Eastern Shore of God's Realm is not exactly a hot bed of liberal theological and political thought. While there are, at least for me, bright and shining spots like Trinity Cathedral, we have anticipated having in the audience at least a few of the sisters and brothers who do not share our view of God's inclusive love of the humankind which that same God created and called into being.

The plan is to show the documentary and then ask the audience, during the intermission, to write down their questions on file cards so that we may then divide them among us and answer each one. Hopefully, it will all be done in 'decent and proper order' as is our wont as Anglicans.

We shall see.

You know, I used to do a lot of this stuff, when I was Canon Missioner for The Oasis. I pretty much lived out of my suitcase, traveling around the Episcopal Church, being "Exhibit A". ("Oh, look, Mildred. There's one of those lesbians. Why, she looks so normal, doesn't she? And she seems so nice. Too bad she's going to hell.")

Bishop Spong used to call me "The Poster Girl for The Episcopal Gay Tribe." Some of my colleagues used to lovingly introduce me as, "The Lesbian Diva of TEC." Thankfully, I passed my tiara to Susan Russell, who is doing a far better job than I ever did. She has taken that crown and re-fashioned it and made it her own. She is, hands down, the "Queen of the Progressive Soundbite."

As I prepare for the long drive and the possibilities that await us tonight, I am awash with memories - many of them happy, but some of them not so pleasant. The death threats. The ugly emails and letters. The posters of Hitler mailed to my office. The conversations with FBI agents and local police.

Ed Bacon, rector of All Saint's Episcopal Church in Pasadena, California, has been on The Oprah Winfrey Show this week. He's been getting some of the same threats because of a comment he made while on the show.

He said, "Being gay is a gift from God." Imagine! Well, you can see it all here.


You can also read some of the correspondence Susan has been dealing with in her blog, "An Inch at a Time."

As Ed points out, the most mean-spirited letters and emails came from people who call themselves "Christian."

He also pointed out that it seems to have unleashed a flood of healing across the nation. That's what happens when you are vehicles of God's unconditional love.

I remember one situation when I was doing a workshop for a gathering of LGBT people for Lucent Technology in Philadelphia. All that was written in the program was, "Homosexuality and the Bible, the Rev'd Canon Elizabeth Kaeton."

Now, there were not a lot of Episcopalians in the bunch. Lots of 'lapsed' RCs and lots of "unchurched" - well, what Jack Spong likes to call "The Church Alumni Society". They had been deeply hurt and were seriously wounded by what the church had done to them, in the precious name of Jesus.

They didn't know me. They had no idea what I was going to say. And yet, the small conference room in that hotel was packed. PACKED! People were sitting on the window sill, on the floor, and there were about 20 people sitting on the floor, just outside the door.

You could feel the spiritual hunger in the air. The room became thick with anticipation and no small amount of anxiety.

At one point, someone asked the question about St. Paul's writing about the sin of men lying with men as if with women, and women lying with women as if with men, which St. Paul named and framed as the sin of 'acting against your nature'.

I pointed out that I had struggled long and hard with that piece of scripture and had come to understand that my 'nature' is to be lesbian; that, in fact, to go against my God-given nature was the sin.

One man, who had previously identified himself as a former RC priest stood up. He took a few moments to try to compose himself. When he opened his mouth, his voice started to crack, but he pushed himself to say, "You mean to say, all these years, all the times I read and studied that verse, I was reading it wrong?"

He started to weep uncontrollably, which set off a wave of emotion and tears in the room.

"Oh, my God," he whispered, hoarsely. "Oh, my God, you have no idea. Something has been unleashed in me."

"Can you say more," I asked gently.

He started sobbing again. I said softly, "Look, if you want, we can talk privately after this session ends. In fact," I said, looking around, "I'll speak with the organizers and see if we can get a private room and I'll speak with anyone here who would like to talk with me privately."

He finally got his composure and croaked out, "Thank you, and I'll take you up on that, but I just want to say this: I think I have finally found a spot in my soul and in my heart where I can begin to heal."

You know, it just doesn't get much better than that.

Suddenly, I understood the emotion - the spiritual hunger - that was in those places described in the Book of Acts when the disciples 'opened the scriptures' and the people rejoiced.

We've come a long, long way since that room in that hotel in Philadelphia oh, 10 or 12 years ago. I don't expect that we'll be having anything quite like that at Trinity Cathedral in Easton, MD.

But, God's children are still hungry and need to be fed. God's 'Rainbow Tribe' still need to hear "Being gay is a gift from God." I hope to carry that message with me tonight.

It's snowing right now, here in the Northeast Corridor of God's Realm, but I suspect, once I get past mid-Jersey, the roads will be clear.

I'm planning to spend the night in Easton, and then travel to our beloved Llangollen in Rehoboth Beach in the morning. It's there I will finish working on my sermon for Sunday. It' the call of Samuel and the call of Andrew - pretty amazing scriptural stuff to frame a sermon about the historic inauguration on Tuesday.

My only question this morning is this: How is it that people can see and know all of these marvelous things happening in these days of our lives - the beginning of the healing of the sin of sexism with the stellar campaign for President of the United States in Hillary Clinton, the inauguration of the healing of the sin of racism that has been unleashed by the election of Barack Obama, the consecration of the healing of the sin of homophobia that has been unleashed by the ordination of V. Gene Robinson - and not believe in a God who brings miracles into our lives?

Who could not see and know all these things and not know of the unconditional love of God in Christ Jesus?

I'm leaving with a part of the prayer we say at the Great Vigil of Easter on my lips: " . . . let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord."

And let the church say, "Amen."

A Little Geography Lesson

Note: A little advice to MadPriest, with a grateful hat tip to John.

THE GEOGRAPHY OF A WOMAN

Between 18 and 22, a woman is like Africa, half discovered, half wild, fertile and naturally beautiful!

Between 23 and 30, a woman is like Europe, well developed and open to trade, especially for someone with cash.

Between 31 and 35, a woman is like Spain , very hot, relaxed and convinced of her own beauty.

Between 36 and 40, a woman is like Greece, gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.

Between 41 and 50, a woman is like Great Britain, with a glorious and all conquering past.

Between 51 and 60, a woman is like Israel , has been through war and doesn't make the same mistakes twice, takes care of business.

Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Canada, self-preserving but open to meeting new people.

After 70, she becomes like Tibet , wildly beautiful, with a mysterious past and the wisdom of the ages...only those with an adventurous spirit and a thirst for spiritual knowledge visit there.

THE GEOGRAPHY OF A MAN

Between 1 and 70, a man is like Iran, ruled by nuts.

Life in the fast lane

Yesterday was one for the books.

It began when I happened to walk into Ms. Conroy's "room" - not an office, exactly, but a "space" of her very own which is very different from my "space."

She had left her EMT squawk box on and, as I walked into the room, it started to crackle and hiss as it does just before an announcement is made.

An overdose. Transporting the patient to a local hospital.

I recognized the address immediately. It was the home of one of my parishioners. My heart sank.

I had been having some growing concern about this particular person. Nothing specific. Just a 'gut' feeling. I had been trying not to 'hover'. Just calling every once in a while. Just to 'check in'. Trying not to feel like a nag.

I found myself suddenly frozen in place. What to do? Strictly speaking, I wasn't supposed to have heard this information. But, and there was no mistake about this, I had. What to do? Now that I knew, no matter how I knew, what to do?

I called Ms. Conroy. We talked. I called a few colleagues. No answer. I emailed a trusted colleague I knew would be online. We strategized.

A plan emerged: I would go to the hospital and, while there, I would check the admission book. Oops! Why look! One of my parishioners admitted through ER. Guess I just better saunter my sassy self over there, right? Just to 'check in'.

I finished getting dressed - no lingering over that second cuppa joe this morning - and braced myself against the frigid weather for the drive over to the hospital.

That's when I met the first wrinkle in my dubious little pastoral plot.

HIPPA. Don't ask me what the acronym stands for. It doesn't really matter. The first letter must stand for "Hell." It's a heinous little federal regulation designed with the best of intentions. And, we all know where that leads (see first letter of the acronym).

It's supposed to protect the confidentiality of the patient. Right. This is not a bad thing. This is a good thing.

However, as my sainted grandmother always said "a little power in the wrong hands can do a great deal of damage." And so it is with HIPPA regulations.

You know, when someone is admitted after a car accident, or a cardiac episode, or a stroke, I flash my little hospital "pastoral care / chaplaincy" badge that has my picture and my name on it, and they clear the decks. I'm in there in a flash amidst the IV poles and cardiac monitors and the blood and the bandages.

Call the boys with the white coats and stern faces from the 6th floor psych unit and you can hear the lock down. The bars go up.

"No," said the lovely volunteer with ancient eyes at the ER Information desk, "I'm afraid we don't have a listing for that person."

"Hmmm . . ." said I. Maybe I got the wrong hospital. The ambulance might have been diverted due to an overcrowded ER. Happens all the time.

So, back I went to my car and drove to another community hospital.

"No," said the lovely volunteer at that ER Information desk, "No listing here."

She was very nice. I'm sure she was telling me the truth. I said, "Do you suppose they might have transferred to the community psychiatric hospital?"

"That may well be," she offered, clearly distressed at my distress.

"Wouldn't that be noted somewhere?" I asked.

"Well, yes . . .actually, it would." Then, she brightened, "How about I call over there and see what I can find out for you?"

I expressed my gratitude as she busily punched some numbers, got put on hold, made a face that expressed her distress at the 'musak' she was being forced to listen to, and then returned to me with disappointing news that my parishioner wasn't listed there.

She read the disappointment on my face and then, lowering her voice, she said, "You know, maybe if you go there, and they see your collar, maybe you'll have more luck." Then she 'mouthed' the (dreaded) word "HIPPA."

So, back into my car (thank goodness I have my hospital badges - I had already saved $6 in parking fees), and off to the psychiatric hospital for which I didn't have a badge, so I checked to make sure I had at least a few dollars in cash.

As I was tallying up the contents of my wallet, I also started to check into my calendar, and noted that my carefully laid out schedule for the day was now in complete shambles.

I sighed deeply. A for effort. F for time management. The report card of a pastor. The story of my life. Sometimes, I endure complete success and utter failure, and sometimes, in the exact same moment. Grrrr . . .

I called my Parish Assistant, made some phone calls, shot off some emails from my iPhone (whatever did we do before this technology?), and then drove to the psychiatric hospital.

Another brick wall. No one was giving me any information. Not whether my parishioner was there. Not if my parishioner wasn't there. Just the stone cold faces with icy smiles and pleasant voices of bureaucracy with a polished, cool, professional capitol "B".

I don't mean this to sound the way it's going to sound, but here it is, anyway: Since when was confidentiality an issue of concern for clergy?

Please don't hear that as arrogance or clericalism or expected, or assumed privilege. It's a cry from my pastor's heart. I mean, just because some well-publicized clergy have crossed boundaries, doesn't me we ALL do. That's a little like saying that just because you've had problems with an adolescent young man, or even a few teen-aged punks, that ALL adolescent young men are bad. Grrrrr . . . .

I got in the car and checked my email. I had blathered a bit of my frustration about the situation in an email on another subject to my Sr. Warden, without breaking confidentiality or giving any specifics, and he wrote back, "Please don't give up. Please keep trying to find our friend."

Of course. Of course. The irony was not lost on me that this person was feeling desperate because of a sense of crushing isolation and desperate loneliness and yet I was desperately throwing myself against not one, not two, but three brick walls, trying to connect. Trying to say, "You're not alone. I'm here. We're here. God's here."

Back in my car. And, just because God has a sense of humor, my phone rang. It was another parishioner. Her daughter was ill and couldn't make the NYC Ballet tonight. Might I be able to join her?

Hello? What?

This was so "out of the blue" it was purple! I almost couldn't get my head wrapped around what she was saying. What she was asking. I didn't know how to respond.

So, I laughed. She must have thought I was insane. And, in that moment, if being out of touch with reality is the definition of insanity, it would have been my picture, in the dictionary there, as Exhibit 'A', next to the word 'Crazy'.

I knew I had some diocesan pre-convention convocation something or other and I should go that evening, but you know, right in that moment, an evening at the NYBC with this woman sounded like manna from heaven. I accepted the invitation with absolute delight and gratitude.

I may have been flunking time management, but, to my everlasting gratitude, God doesn't wear a watch.

On the road again. Back I went to the first hospital where I was absolutely certain I would find my parishioner.

The ER staff was not happy to see me. "Let me ask you something," the ER attendant asked icily. "How do you know that your patient is here?"

"My parishioner? You mean to tell me that my parishioner IS here?"

He smirked, "I didn't mean that. I meant, what makes you think your . . . PARISHIONER is a PATIENT here?"

"Well," I fudged, sending up a quick request for forgiveness before I sinned, "A neighbor told me." Well, I assume it was a 'neighbor' who had made the announcement on the EMT squawk box.

"Ah, yes, Chatham," he said, "The posh little suburb where everyone knows everyone else's business."

I almost lost it, but I'm proud to say I didn't. I took a deep breath and then, got his attention, looked into his eyes and said, "Chatham is a community where many people care deeply about each other. Especially in my congregation."

He looked at me with obvious contempt, said nothing and returned to shuffling around his Very Important Paper Work.

It was then that I caught her eye - an lovely Black woman who was beckoning me over to her place behind a partition.

"Give me your cell phone number," she whispered, "I'll make a few phone calls and check on your parishioner. It may take me a while, depending on how quickly my calls are returned. I'll call you, if you don't mind coming back."

"No, no," I stammered, undone by her obvious kindness. A surprise encounter with human kindness always has a greater impact in the midst of cold, hard bureaucratic concrete.

I gave her my business card and circled my cell phone number. "Thank you," I said, aware that my eyes were filling with tears.

She gently took my arm. "If I were that person and you were my pastor, I would want someone to try as hard as you are trying to find me," she whispered.

I left the hospital and got into the office around 11. My poor Parish Administrator! Not only did he have to swing with the curves of my day, he also had to listen to me dump my crap all over the front office. Sainted man, is he.

Memo to self: Give this man a raise at the earliest possible moment.

An hour and a half later, the call came through. I just know she had pulled some strings in some pretty high places, but she got me in.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I said to her, then, catching my breath, added, "You know, I feel as if I've been living the Parable of the Lost Sheep. I've left the 99 in search of the 1 and it's been a pretty daunting process. I've got some things to clear off my desk, but I'm on my way."

"You know, Rev," the woman said, "I'd like to think that when Jesus went in search of that one lost lamb, there were some other shepherds in the field, helping him out."

"Ah," I said, "So THAT's how He did it!"

We both laughed and giggled and shared how good God is and how wonderful it is to be sisters and brothers in Christ. I suddenly felt 10 pounds lighter and ready to face whatever God had next in store for me.

Know why? 'Cuz I knew I wasn't alone. I could tell my parishioner that he wasn't alone, either and s/he'd know that I was telling the truth from my heart.

It's amazing how that all works, isn't it?

The ballet? It was COPPELIA, a delightful little piece of Balanchine fluff, something which debuted in Petersburg in 1884 which he adapted and debuted in 1974.

The woman who danced the part of Swanilda was from Salt Lake City, Utah. The man who danced the part of Frantz was born in Madrid, Spain.

I wondered if they ever thought, as little children, that they would one day be dancing with each other on the stage in New York City.

It IS a small world, after all.

Did I mention that the parishioner who invited me just turned 80? She plays tennis three times a week and got frostbite on one of her toes a few years ago playing paddle ball. She bounded up the two flights of stairs to the second tier (our seats were in the first row), like a veritable gazelle, and arrived poised and lovely.

I, on the other hand, was winded. And, I'm in the gym 3 times a week!

We missed the 10:15 train so caught the 10:49 and got home a little before midnight. Six o'clock came very early this morning.

Just another day in the life of a pastor in a sleepy if not fairly posh little suburban community.

Ain't nothing quite like it.

And you know, I wouldn't trade it for all the little ballerinas, cute as they were, on the stage of the NYBC in Lincoln Center, NYC.

Nope, not one.

Of Tortoises and Hares

I've been thinking about the difference between the zeal - and anxiety - expressed by some of our Evangelical sisters and brothers who seem to get themselves into a "state" about the state of The Episcopal Church.

They seem to equate "growth" - as in increase in membership - with health. They twist themselves into absolute pretzels about numbers and formulas and growth charts and time lines.

One adage goes that if one has 'planted' a church and, after three years, one does not have an ASA (average Sunday attendance) of 60-100, one should proclaim the adventure as a failure, close up shop and move on.

They forecast dire predictions for TEC - "the hemorrhage continues unabated" - and scream that we are losing an average of 1,000 members a week. Some of them do this with absolute glee, but more simply ring their hands and criticize the leadership of the church for 'not doing more.'

Their 'missionary zeal' is not unknown in scripture and, in fact, it is quite laudable. Except, of course, when it is used to 'shame and blame', and used to bolster the position that we are not growing because of the 'progressive' movement of the church.

There's a great deal of anxiety about 'mission'.

Got a problem? They got a program.

On the other hand, we've also heard, at least in this diocese, a great deal about 'congregational development'. I understand this to mean that 'congregational development' is a way to increase membership from within - to build up the infrastructure and membership base of the church.

Lumped under this heading come things like 'evangelism' - which is pretty much cultural marketing programs dressed up in a baptismal outfit, understanding congregational size and character (Arlin Rothage's stuff), parish life-cycle stuff, how to identify long and short term goals and how to write a mission statement, dealing with conflict, along with leadership development - mostly of clergy.

Got a problem? They got a program.

It's not that I'm not concerned about either mission or congregational development. I am. But, I think we're missing a few fundamental things.

I think we have to stop, back up a bit and see the bigger picture. I think we need to look at what's happening in the context of our times. Not only do I mean that in terms of what's been happening in our culture over the last 40 years, I think we don't take seriously how that has affected the cultural climate of our churches.

There are lots of factors which have colluded to make church community in general and community worship in particular irrelevant to many. Parenting styles, the 'Age of Anesthesia', and 'affluenza,have all called into question the nature and importance of God in our lives and the relevance of being part of a community of faith.

Let us also not dismiss the current "troubles' in the communion. Instead of seeing doom and gloom, might this not simply be a time of 'pruning' in the vineyard. Is God doing a 'new thing' - not just in TEC, but for those who are leaving?

It's as simple as the new math I almost flunked in the 6th grade: If you ask the wrong question, you're not going to get the right answer. Actually, the "right answer" isn't as important as the questions you asked to get to the answer.

Then, there's the old adage of real estate: "Location, location, location."

I've never really understood the phenomenon but it can not be denied that people in the South understand 'church' differently than in the North. Even Episcopal Churches in places like Memphis, Mobile, and Atlanta see 700-1,000 'bums in the pew' on any given Sunday, while in Boston, Philadelphia and New York, we think we're 'fat and happy' if we have 250 - 300.

I see the 'smirks' on the faces of my sisters and brothers to the South and I admit to some 'pew envy'. However, I also know that a Northern Pine would not grow in Alabama. Neither would a Palm Tree grow in Vermont.

It's a different climate, a different soil, different people.

While programs like "Alpha" may work in the Diocese of Dallas, it would certainly not fly in the Diocese of Newark. Then again, "Via Media," which has been well received here would probably fall flat and stay off the desks of most of the bishops in the Dioceses Florida.

There's lots more to this issue. This is just what I could think of, sitting here, without even breaking a sweat.

I've been thinking lately of Aesop's Fable of the Tortoise and the Hare as a modern parable of the state of the church.

I think the Evangelicals are the anxious Hares. Goodness knows, I've spent a good amount of time in that 'rabbit warren'. But lately, I've been thinking a lot about the Tortoises I've known and loved. I'm beginning to think that there is much wisdom in the adage: 'Slow and steady wins the race'.

It's not that I'm not concerned about the state of the church. I am. But, I think we've been asking all the wrong questions and trying to "fix" the problem without first taking the time to make an accurate assessment and diagnosis.

For example, instead of asking, "How can we ordain LGBT people or bless their relationships?" why not ask, "What might God be doing, at this time and place in our history, in bringing so many LGBT people to the church? What can they teach us about what we might have taken for granted about human sexuality, covenanted relationships, commitment and service?"

If we started with those questions, we might end up in an entirely different place.

To be fair, we should also ask, "What is God doing in bringing all the orthodites into the church at this time? What can we learn from them about conserving, and their perspective of scripture and their passion and zeal?"

What if we started paying attention to that which God has already given us - the 'bums' that are already in the pew? What if, instead of placing all our anxiety in programs for 'mission' and 'congregational development', we decided to also invest in deepening spirituality and prayer?

What might happen if we tended to the spirits that are in the vines already growing in the vineyard? Made them stronger? Helped them grow deeper?

Instead of answering the question, "Got a problem?" with "I got a program," what if we asked:

Got a problem?

And the answer were: I got a prayer.

I just got off the phone with a parishioner who was telling me of a problem she's having at work. We talked for about 20 minutes and she said, "This has been helpful, thank you. Now , I should get back to work."

"Wait," I said, "before you go, let's have a little prayer, shall we?"

"Prayer?" she said. "You mean, now? On the phone?"

"Yes," I said. "Would that be okay?"

She was still a bit befuddled, but said, "Sure. I mean, okay."

So, we prayed. I have no idea what I said, but after I said, "Amen," there was this very loud silence at the end of my receiver.

"Hello?" I said, "Are you still there?"

She was weeping softly as she said, "Yes, yes. I'm still here."

I let her compose herself for a few seconds and then I heard her say, "You know, maybe if we had prayed at the beginning of this conversation, we wouldn't have needed to have this conversation."

Well, I think the conversation helped to better frame the prayer, but she does have a point.

Maybe if we spent more time in silence, we'd be able to hear God's answer to our prayers. Instead of constant chatter, what if we developed some 'consistent contemplation'? You know, times when people can come together not to think or talk or socialize with each other as much as listening for the Spirit in our midst.

I know. I sound like a Quaker. Well, you know what? Maybe that's not such a bad thing. Many of the solutions to the social problems in this country - like civil rights and suffrage - were led by Quakers.

We could learn a few things by being still and listening, along with our glorious music and eloquent books of prayers - common or uncommon.

So, while I enjoy my relationship with the Hares in my life, I'm going to start celebrating my "inner Tortoise" - and encouraging others to do that, as well.

"Slow and steady wins the race."

I think that's my new mantra for 2009.