Come in! Come in!

"If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a Hope-er, a Pray-er, a Magic Bean buyer; if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire. For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" -- Shel Silverstein

Friday, February 07, 2025

Epiphany XXII: Song in a weary throat

 (Image source: Schlesinger Library, Harvard Radcliffe Institute.)

Good Friday morning, good citizens of The Remains of The Epiphany Season. Today, in Black History Month, I want to lift up, celebrate, remember, and call the name of one of the saints of God and the Episcopal Church, Anna Pauline Murray, better known as the Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray.

I remember the first time I heard her name. It was 1989 and I was helping out in the little church where she had last been Vicar, Church of the Holy Apostles, Baltimore, MD. She had died of pancreatic cancer in 1985 and the people there were still deeply grieving her loss.

It was after mass and I was hanging out in the sacristy with the Altar Guild. I've learned, over the years, that the "small talk" you make with the Holy Servants of the Altar can tell you big things about the church and Her people.

"She was a force of nature," one of the Altar Guild Ladies said, with unmistakable sadness as she filled a cruet with water at the sink. "A real force of nature. The Holy Spirit just hung around her bony shoulders like Superman's cape."

She began to rattle off her accomplishments. "Oh sure, you heard all about those lunch counter sit-ins that the NAACP organized? Huh! Well, Mother Pauli was doing that in DC years -Decades! - before it occurred to The Boys that it would be a good strategy for a non-violent demonstration."

She shook her head and sighed, "That was just the first of a lot of firsts. First Black woman law school graduate at Howard University, first Black person to earn a JSD (Doctor of the Science of Law) degree from Yale Law School, first Black woman ordained as an Episcopal priest."

She laughed, "You didn't want to say 'no' to Mother Pauli. Huh! She'd just find a way to do it anyway, even if she never got credit for it." She dried her hands and said, "I'll bet you didn't know that she wrote the legal argument for Thurgood Marshall's Brown v Topeka Kansas Supreme Court case that stopped segregation - well, made it illegal, anyway."

I later learned that Murray’s 746-page book, “States’ Laws on Race and Color,” written in 1948, was a definitive work used for decades by jurists and civil rights activists. Marshall called Murray’s book “the bible for civil rights lawyers.”

Her name was also listed as a co-author on the brief argued by Ruth Bader Ginsburg in 1971 in Reed v. Reed. Years later Ginsburg said, “We knew when we wrote that brief that we were standing on her shoulders.”

"You know," I said, "with all due respect, I went to a very progressive seminary in The Episcopal Church. I'm sorry - I apologize - but, I've never heard of this woman before."

"Hmph," she said, looking me right in the eye with steely brown eyes, like a mother about to teach her child an important lesson in life. She shifted her ample weight, tilted her head to one side, slung her cleaning cloth over her shoulder, and said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I wonder why that is?"

I got it. Instantly. But, I didn't know just how deep that prejudice ran. It was one of the first times I was aware of the importance and the impact of "intersectionality" and the complexity of issues that make up our total identity.

"You gotta read her book, "Proud Shoes." More people need to. But they won't. Nobody cares. Well, none but Jesus."

"Look," she said, "up there on the shelves. See it? You can't have it - not even borrow it - but they have several copies at the Baltimore Public Library. Some of us made sure of that. And, right next to it is her other book. See? "Song in a Weary Throat". Get that one, too, when you're at the library."

As I looked at the shelf, not only were her two books there but also a few books of her poetry. There was also a three-ring binder of some of her sermons and a pamphlet she, Pauli, had put together which provided instructions on how a poor, inner-city congregation could make its own Afro-centric vestments out of sheets and pillowcases and napkins, trimmed with Kinte cloth.

As I remember, there were also handwritten notes of things Pauli felt were important to include, like the name and contact information of the woman in Baltimore who could get Kinte cloth for you inexpensively.

I realized that that bookshelf was a little shrine in memory of Mother Pauli. There were several books and religious symbols - mostly African-themed - that had probably been in her office and left by the family as keepsakes for the congregation.

She moved closer to me and, as she spoke, I felt her hand at my back. I knew that not only did this woman think that "Mother Pauli" was important enough for her to take the time out of her day to teach this newly ordained White girl something about this Giant of Justice, but she also thought I was worth it.

I got the clear sense that this woman was telling me parts of the story of Pauli Murray in the hopes that I might be inspired - or, at least curious - to know more. And maybe, just maybe, I would be able to tell people about her and the work she had done, so that Pauli would eventually earn her place in history.

I felt awash in gratitude but I also understood the responsibility I was being given. I've tried very hard, all these many years later, not to let her down. What I didn't know - couldn't know at the time - was the resistance I would get from people who would rather just let her name collect dust like the books on the shelves in the sacristy of that old, inner-city Episcopal church.

Back in the day, nobody said the word "lesbian". Even gay men and lesbian women had a hard time saying the actual "L-word". But, to be Black and female and lesbian? Well, that was all just a bit too much for some folks.

It wasn't until a sister priest who was also Black pulled me over and told me about her "gender confusion issues" that I got the full picture. "You mean, she was a dyke?" I said, using the only language I had at the time for masculine-looking women.

"Yeah, I guess that's what you'd call it," she said, deeply embarrassed. "I mean, it was more than that, you know? I don't know how to explain it. It was more than just being gay. I think . . . well, I don't know, but I think . . . well, let's just say that I think, sometimes, she got confused, being a woman in a man's world."

Years - decades - later, I would come to understand that Pauli Murray was what we would call today "non-binary" and "gender fluid." I came to understand that she suffered from the same sexism as writer Zora Neale Hurston, whose brilliant work was deeply controversial in her community because it was feared that her portrayal of Southern Black dialects and folkways out of context furthered racist stereotypes.

I also understood that the same homophobia that denied the brilliant strategic and organizational skills of Bayard Rustin, the principal architect of The March on Washington, and the brilliance of author and essayist James Baldwin also tried to deny Pauli Murray her well-deserved place in American history.

The truth will have out, and their brilliance is now embraced and their stories are being told. I believe that is due, at least in part, to the brilliant work of Black authors like Kelly Brown Douglas who, in her book, "Sexuality and the Black Church," suggests that issues such as homophobia and sexism in the Black church and community are clearly a response to the virulent and dominant White exploitation of Black sexuality.

Today, we have the "alphabet soup" of inclusion: LGBTQIA+++. Today, we continue to work on the racism and sexism that is in the very air we breathe. Today, we continue to work on the unrelenting prejudice against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people.

Today, movies and documentaries about James Baldwin and Bayard Rustin, and Pauli Murray are made and viewed widely. Today, Pauli Murray - the woman who celebrated her first Eucharist at the altar in the same chapel where her grandmother, then a slave, was baptized - is celebrated and remembered in the Lesser Feasts and Fasts on July 1. (Imagine!)

But, without the foundational, brilliant, courageous, persistent, tenacious, and resilient work of people like Pauli Murray, we would not be where we are today.

I saw a meme on BlueSky the other day that I think, if Pauli were alive today, she, herself, might have authored it. It said,

"You can not take the DEI out of Imgao Dei."

In these dark days when the new administration has declared war on DEI and has prohibited Federal agencies from observing Black History Month, I rejoice that we have bright lights of The Epiphany of Jesus like Pauli Murray to illumine our path.


"Hope is a song in a weary throat," wrote Pauli in one of the first poems of hers I ever read in that raggedy, broken-down old sacristy in that inner-city church in Baltimore, MD.

It's more important, now more than ever, to find our voices and sing out the hope we know in Jesus. And, I'll say to you what that wonderful Altar Guild Lady said to me at Holy Apostles Church, so many decades ago, "And, why do you think that is?"

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia. NB:
I'm going to say this here, again, and I'll keep repeating it: Black History is American History. We need Black History not for Black people but for White people who have been seriously impoverished and do not know or have an appreciation for the contributions Black people have made to American History. We know even less of the Black women who have made enormous contributions at equally enormous cost. So, please, White people: read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest as much information as you can during Black History month, that it may inspire you to continue to learn all the rest of the months of the year and all the days of your life. Especially in these days of the attempted elimination of DEI.

 

Thursday, February 06, 2025

Epiphany XXI: Martyrs


Good Thursday morning, good pilgrims of the Remains of The Epiphany. The Martyrs of Japan are on the calendar of the Lesser Feasts and Fasts today, providing us with yet another example of what happens when religion is perceived as a vehicle of Western imperialism.

The story goes that Jesuits brought Christianity to Japan as a byproduct of trade relations. The movement was led by Saint Francis Xavier, who introduced Christianity to Japan in 1549. Xavier was a founding member of the Society of Jesus.

Initially, many of the warring feudal lords embraced Christianity, viewing it as a way of undermining those in power. At its peak, Christianity in Japan boasted some 500,000 adherents, the majority of them clustered in Nagasaki.

“Oppressed peasants” were attracted to Christianity by the promise of salvation, while merchants and “trade-conscious daimyos” were more concerned with the economic opportunities afforded by the new religion.

However, powerful leaders and warlords in Japan grew skeptical of a belief system with such close ties to foreign powers, especially Portugal and Rome. Suspicions were raised about Western intentions of conquest, particularly on the part of the Spanish, with their nearby presence in the Philippines.

There was a strong reaction against the proliferation of all things "foreign" - people, their culture, their values, and their religion - on Japanese soil, especially by the warlords. Suspicion and mistrust of anything not native to their soil fed a strong movement of isolationism.

(History has so many lessons. Are we paying attention, here?)

In 1587 Christian missionaries were expelled, accused of committing “the illegal act of destroying the teachings of Buddha”—the dominant faith in Japan at the time.

A decade later, on February 5, 1597, the first victims were persecuted. They were twenty-six Christians: six European Franciscan missionaries, three Japanese Jesuits (including Paul Miki), and seventeen Japanese laity, three of whom were young boys. They were executed at Nagasaki in a form of crucifixion by being elevated on crosses and then pierced with spears.

They were martyred for their faith, yes, but that is only one part of the story. They were crucified because their religion was seen as a powerful vehicle of Western imperialism. It seems ever thus when Christianity becomes "the state religion".

The Roman Catholic Church remembers these martyrs on the day of their deaths. The Anglican and Episcopal Churches remember them today, February 6th, to keep remembrance of St. Agatha on the 5th.

Today in Black History Month, we remember one Ms. Audre Lorde a writer and poet known for her radical honesty and fight against racism and sexism. Lorde described herself as a "Black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet." She wrote about intersectionality long before The Academy recognized the powerful, dynamic interplay at the intersection of our various identities.

In the 1970s she worked as a poet-in-residence at Tougaloo College in Mississippi and began publishing poetry collections. Her works were informed by the intersections of race, class, and gender, and became increasingly more political.


In "Sister Outsider," she wrote,
“Your silence will not protect you," which became the foundation of the spirituality of People with AIDS, who realized that to save their lives and the lives of others, they needed to take the risk and be public about the privacy of their sexual orientation as well as their diagnosis. There followed incredible acts of bravery and courage that still make my eyes sweat and changed and transformed me."
The full context of that quote is even more powerful, especially for us today:
“What are the words you do not yet have? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language."

"Next time, ask: What's the worst that will happen? Then push yourself a little further than you dare. Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it's personal. And the world won't end."

"And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don't miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, "If I can't dance, I don't want to be part of your revolution." And at last you'll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.”
She also wrote:
“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.”
Most powerfully, she wrote:
“For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us to temporarily beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change. Racism and homophobia are real conditions of all our lives in this place and time. I urge each one of us here to reach down into that deep place of knowledge inside herself and touch that terror and loathing of any difference that lives here. See whose face it wears. Then the personal as the political can begin to illuminate all our choices.”
I think the juxtaposition of the Martyrs of Japan and the life and teachings of Audre Lorde provide an opportunity to reflect on the nature of personal and political, the cost of silence and the cost of speaking up/speaking out, and the martyrdom that happens at the intersection - the cross - of all of our various identities, especially when it behooves the power structure to keep them separate and in a hierarchy of importance to an order dictated by the dominant social and cultural and religious paradigm.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Wednesday, February 05, 2025

Epiphany XX: And yet, she persisted

 

Good Wednesday morning, good citizens of the remains of The Epiphany Season. I have two bright Epiphany lights for you today - two uppity women, centuries apart, who "wouldn't do what the man say do," even if it meant injury, and in one case, torture.

The first is the woman on our Calendar of Lesser Feasts and Fasts, St. Agatha of Sicily, one of my grandmother's favorite saints. Agatha was born to rich and noble parents, around 231. She was beautiful, but from an early age decided that she would dedicate herself as a virgin to the service of Jesus.

That, however, did not stop the Sicilian men who are notorious for their ... pursuit ... of beautiful women. One of them, a man of high noble ranking named Quintianus, became obsessed with turning her away from her vow and forcing her to marry him.

Quintianus had her arrested and brought before a judge - him - where he sentenced her to imprisonment ... in a brothel. There, she successfully and gracefully spurned all of her...customers... and made her her vow to the most high.

Quintianus then had her imprisoned where she was tortured. She was stretched on a rack to be torn with iron hooks, burned with torches, and whipped. Yet, the story goes, she endured everything "with good cheer".

Enraged, Quintianus had her breast cut off and sent her back to prison with no medical attention and no food or water. And yet, still, she persisted. She is often portrayed holding a platter which displays her breasts.

She is believed to have passed into heaven around 251. St. Agatha is the patron saint of Sicily, bellfounders, breast cancer patients, Palermo, rape victims, and wet nurses. She is also considered to be a powerful intercessor when people suffer from fires.

The second Bright Epiphany Light is one, Ms. Annie Lee Wilkerson Cooper (June 2, 1910 – November 24, 2010), a member of the African Diaspora who was a Civil Rights Activist.

I first learned of Ms. Annie Lee when I worked in Newark, NJ. I was picking up one of Cooper Deli's almost world-famous hot pastrami sandwiches on the West Side. The Cooper family owned one of the best delis in town. Their son was married to one of the women who was a member of my church.


I don't think I ever paid full price for one of those sandwiches, which was enough for at least three hearty meals.

The Coopers were very proud of Ms. Annie Lee as "the woman who punched Dallas County, Alabama Sheriff Jim Clark in the face during the 1965 Selma to Montgomery marches.

Now, I searched history books to find an account of this story, but - at least at that time - it was not an event any historian found worthy of print. However, I did find the story - told and recorded with great relish - at the offices of my local NAACP.

Apparently, this is how it went down, according to an article in the Journal of Blacks in Higher Education: "On January 25, 1965, Cooper went to the former Dallas County Courthouse in Selma, Alabama to register to vote as part of the Selma to Montgomery marches. While in line, Cooper was prodded by local sheriff Jim Clark with a baton. Cooper turned around and hit Clark in the face, knocking him to the ground. Cooper proceeded to jump on Clark until she was pulled away by other sheriffs."

She was held in jail for 11 hours - singing spirituals at the top of her voice the whole, entire time - before the sheriff's deputies dropped the charges and released her.

Her incident, as well as Bloody Sunday, which occurred six weeks after Cooper's encounter with Clark, were critical steps in passing the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Though considered a key player in the voting rights movement, her efforts were often relegated to the background because of her gender. She was misrepresented in the media, especially in newspapers, which often presented her as an "aggressor." Some popular headlines in newspapers such as the Lodi News-Sentinel included: "Selma Sheriff Slugged by Hefty Negro Woman."

Ms. Annie Lee Cooper became a registered voter in Alabama.

In June, I am going to be part of the pilgrimage from Selma to Montgomery, led by Bishop Carlye J. Hughes. I am looking forward to learning more about Ms. Annie Lee, who died of natural causes at 100 years of age on November 24, 2010.

I thank God for the courage and persistence of these two "uppity, onery, willful, stubborn" women, who inspire the qualities I think we'll all need "for the living of these days" when the ancient demons of sexism, misogyny, and racism have returned full force.

God grant us the strength and courage to know when to endure and when to turn and slug someone right in the face, no matter the cost.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Tuesday, February 04, 2025

Epiphany XIX: Manache, Cornelius and Dietrich

 

Good Tuesday morning, comrades of The Remains of the Epiphany. There are three bright lights on the calendar of Lesser Feasts and Fasts, one of whom also provides a lesson for us today during Black History Month.

That would be Manche Masemola, who shares the date with Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Cornelius the Centurian. Today, I'm going to highlight the life of this South African woman described as a "Christian Martyr" who died at the hands of her parents for the persistence of her vocation.

Manche (1913–1928) was of the Pedi people, a Bantu ethnic group in South Africa who are known for their music, storytelling, and dance. She lived her short life to the northeast of modern Johannesburg, with her parents, two older brothers, a sister, and a cousin.

After tribal warfare, it was determined that the Pedi people were to be confined to reserved lands that were barren, and they worked hard to eke out a living there. A tiny Christian community had been formed, first by German and then British missionaries, which was widely viewed with anxiety and suspicion by those among the Pedi who adhered to the faith and customs of their forebears.

In 1919, Manche and her cousin Lucia began taking classes to prepare them for baptism at the Anglican Community of the Resurrection mission. They did so against the strenuous objection of Manche's parents, who feared the girls were being bewitched, that they would leave them, or worse, refuse to marry and continue the customs of the Pedi people.

What were good Pedi parents to do? Especially those who bore legitimate resentment and anger at the British colonists who had segregated them and feared (not without good cause) that the girls would leave their family and traditions and become "Westernized". They saw that the missionaries were the vehicles of colonialism, imperialism and empire, which they experienced as a poisonous triple cocktail to kill their culture.

The parents took Manche to a traditional South African healer, who prescribed a traditional remedy, which her parents made her consume by beating her. Indeed, she was beaten so badly that Manche remarked to her cousin Lucia and her priest that she feared she "would be baptized in her own blood." That turned out to be prophetic.

The mother hid the girl's clothes so she could not attend Christian instructional classes, to no avail. On February 4, 1928, her parents led the teenager to a lonely place, where they killed her, burying her by a granite rock on a remote hillside. She was thought to be about 15 years old.

I don't know about you but I hear multiple layers of tragedy in this story. I also hear echoes of the story of Abraham's sacrifice of Isaac, except there was no dramatic, last minute divine intervention to spare the life of Manache.

A statue of Manche Masemola is one of the ten in the Modern Martyrs of the 20th Century collection adorning Westminster Abbey’s Great West Door. I suspect many see her as a martyr to the Christian faith, an example for all Christians to be steadfast and willing to die for the teachings of Christ.

When I visted the Abbey years ago and saw her statue, I was awash with the sense that Manache is not so much a Christian martyr as a martyr not to the teachings of Jesus but, rather, to the use of Christianity as a tool - a weapon - of colonialism, imperialism, empire and cultural genocide.

I find the juxtaposition of her story with that of the stories of Cornelius the Centurian, the first Gentile to be converted to Christianity, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was martyred by Christian Nationalists in Germany who used their religion as a tool of fascism and genocide, to be a testimony to the evil corruption of the original intent of evangelism.

The three, indivually and together, shine a bright light in which we can examine more closely our beliefs and faith in the True Light of Jesus, who is the vehicle of our ongoing epiphanies and revelations. This has become a spiritual task of critical importance for us in our day and time.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

NB: I wish to point out the obvious - that I am a woman who is Caucasian, Western, and a Christian liberation feminist, who comes from the strong Roman and Anglo Catholic roots of American immigrants who is retelling this story through those particular lenses. I have no doubt my perspective will differ from some Citizens of the Realm, as well as American Christians and even, perhaps, some South Africans. This is my epiphany, my revelation. I trust I have shared my reflection with respect. If your reflection differs, please share it with the same respectful intent. Thank you.

Epiphany XVIII: Blaise and Minnie

 

Monday, February 3rd 


Good Monday morning, citizens of the last few weeks of Epiphanytide. Okay, so many among you will argue that there's no such thing as The Epiphany Season much less Epiphanytide. You will want me to say that this is "Ordinary Time."

Nay, nay, say I. I think we must resist with every single last damn fiber in our being, slapping the label "ordinary" or "normal" on anything that is happening these days. I think we have to cling to the last rays of light in everything, everywhere, all at once.

The days are growing darker. The gathering storm clouds are more ominous. After attacking an Episcopal bishop who had the temerity to preach the gospel and plead for mercy for those who are afraid right now, the first public volley on a mainline Christian denomination has been made.

An ELCA a faith-based charity that has been providing social services to refugees has been accused of "corruption and waste" and is having its payments "rapidly shut down" by Elon Musk, who is not an elected official and was born in South Africa.

ELCA Bishop Elizabeth Eaton has responded to these accusations, speaking the words of the Good News of Jesus with calm clarity, intelligence, and eloquence.

Oh, there'll be hell to pay for that.

The POTUS ordered the secretary of the Treasury to provide Musk with unlimed access to the government's checkbook, so now Musk has access to Social Security and Medicare benefits, grants, and payments to government contractors, including those that compete directly with Musk’s own companies, all of it.

I need to say this loud and clear: This is unconstitutional. As such, it is grounds for impeachment. I know. It's too soon to take action. We need to make sure our elected representatives understand that we understand this. Resistance and pushback and the general outcry from the citizenry are our most effective tools right now. Old King Donald hates to be unpopular.

The Tariff war has officially begun with the announced punitive tariffs of 25% to Canada and Argentina and 10% to China. The long-term strategy of tariffs on Canada is to weaken their economy so that he can make them the 51st State.

Guantanamo Bay is going to be reopened to be able to house 30,000 immigrants who have been waiting and hoping and dreaming to be granted asylum and begin the long process to obtain US Citizenship. They'll do this with the money they save from paying the ELCA and other religious organizations for their services.

I could go on but you'll understand, please, and forgive me for wanting to hold onto The Light, even if it offends the liturgical sensibilities of some of the more, shall we say, "stiff-necked" among us.

I'm warning you right now, don't even ask me what I'm giving up for Lent. You don't want to hear my response. It won't be pretty.

Today is the Feast of St. Blaise. I looked him up by date and name in the Lesser Feasts and Fasts of TEC and he does not appear there. Pity. He used to. He's been replaced by Anskar, or Oscar, who was the first Archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen, and patron saint of Scandinavia.

St. Blaise was a physician and bishop of Sebastea, Armenia in 316, who "worked hard for the spiritual and physical health of his people." Due to religious intolerance, Blaise was apparently forced to flee to the backcountry. There he lived as a hermit in solitude and prayer, but he made friends with the wild animals.

One day a group of hunters seeking wild animals for the amphitheater stumbled upon Blaise’s cave. They were first surprised and then frightened. The bishop was kneeling in prayer surrounded by patiently waiting wolves, lions, and bears.

The legend has it that as the hunters hauled Blaise off to prison, a mother came with her young son who had a fish bone lodged in his throat. At Blaise’s command, the child was able to cough up the bone. The Germans and Slavs hold him in special honor, and for decades many United States Catholics have sought the annual Saint Blaise blessing for their throats.

Indeed, one of the scariest memories of my childhood was being hauled off to mass by my grandmother once a year on February 3rd to have my throat blessed.

The priest had a Very Scary (well, to a young child) . . . thingy . . . which was made of metal and looked like a huge pair of scissors. At the end of each "arm" were two lit candles, crossed. Kneeling at the altar rail as if for communion, the priest would bring the apparatus close so that your throat was in the middle of the crossed, lit candles, say the blessing prayer, and VOILA! you were safe for another year from choking on fish bones, tonsillitis, sore throat, or strep throat.

Blaise is the patron saint of relief from Throat Ailments and, for whatever reason, English Wool Combers.

Today is the third day of Black History Month and I celebrate and call the name Minnie Riperton, a woman who used her voice to entertain millions. Born Minnie Julia Riperton Rudolph (1947-1979)

Mariah Carey is heralded for her whistle register, which is the highest the human voice is capable of reaching. But Riperton perfected the singing technique years before and was best known for her five-octave vocal range. The whistling can be heard on her biggest hit, “Lovin’ You.” The infectious ballad was originally created as a distraction for her daughter, Maya Rudolph (of Bridesmaids and Saturday Night Live fame).

In 1969 Riperton, along with the group The Rotary Connection, played in the first Catholic Rock Mass at the Liturgical Conference National Convention, Milwaukee Arena, Milwaukee, WI. Several of the songs were co-written by Richard Rudolph, who married Riperton in August 1970. Together, they had two children, Marc and Maya.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1976, but she did not initially disclose that she was terminally ill. In 1977, she became a spokesperson for the American Cancer Society. In 1978, she received the American Cancer Society's Courage Award, which was presented to her at the White House by President Jimmy Carter. Riperton died of breast cancer on July 12, 1979, at the age of 31.

I pray that we are able to take these two bright lights into the darkness of the day in these last few weeks of the Epiphantide.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Sunday, February 02, 2025

The Fourth Sunday after The Epiphany: Presentation.

 

Good Sunday morning, good citizens of The Epiphany Season. Some will argue that this season ends today, with the Feast of the Presentation. If you haven't taken down your Christmas tree, today is the day to tackle that chore. It is also required that you take down and put away your nativity (creche) sets. We have four. We'll be busy this afternoon.

Other scholarly sources claim that the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday marks the end of The Epiphany Season. It should be noted that we do have three more "Sunday(s) after The Epiphany" to celebrate, so it is perfectly acceptable to leave the green or white/gold vestments/hangings up before switching over to the purple for Lent.

There will be endless squabbles about these finer liturgical points, reminding one again of the truth in the old saying that the difference between a liturgist and a terrorist is that you can negotiate with a terrorist.

Today is Groundhog Day, the day when Punxsutawney Phil, the meteorologically talented rodent (also known as a woodchuck or whistlepig) from Punxsutawney, PA, is rudely awakened from his slumber so that men of great wisdom and insight wearing black tuxedos and top hats will determine whether or not this lowly of God's creature will have been presented to the Baby Jesus in the Temple who will whisper in Phil's ear whether there will be six more weeks of winter or whether Spring will arrive.

Or, something.

I understand that Phil's wife, Phyllis, has divorced Phil and is living in Florida. She claims that Phil is a compulsive liar.

I have it on good authority (sez Ms. Conroy) that Phil did, in fact, see his shadow. this morning. So, don't start soaking those sweaters just yet, and keep your snow boots handy. Just in case.

Today is the second day of Black History Month. Today, I want to lift up, celebrate, and call the name of Claudette Colvin (1939- ) Before Parks refused to give up her seat on a bus in Montgomery, Alabama, on December 1, 1955, there was a brave 15-year-old who chose not to sit at the back of the bus.

That young girl was one, Ms. Claudette Colvin. On March 2, 1955, touting her constitutional rights to remain seated near the middle of the vehicle and not give up her seat to a white woman, Ms. Colvin challenged the driver and was subsequently arrested.

At school, she had recently learned about abolitionists, and later recalled that “it felt like Sojourner Truth was on one side pushing me down, and Harriet Tubman was on the other side of me pushing me down. I couldn’t get up.”

Colvin’s arrest was not the first instance of a Black person in the South refusing to give up their seat on a bus to a white passenger, but it did come at a pivotal moment for the civil rights movement.

Fred D. Gray, a prominent Montgomery lawyer and activist, took Colvin on as a client—his first civil rights case—with the aim of filing a federal suit to desegregate Alabama's bus system. Local civil rights leaders, however, decided not to proceed, in part due to Colvin’s age but also because, by her own assessment, she was too dark-skinned and soon became pregnant at age 16.

These factors, some feared, would hurt her chances of winning the case—unlike the known community figure who soon followed in her footsteps: Rosa Parks.


As I was taught by the Rev Dr. Eleanor McLaughlin, to understand history, like understanding scripture, one has to understand its context because history, like scripture, is contextual.

Today is the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, which marks 40 days from the Nativity of Jesus to his mother's purification in the temple, as required by Mosaic Law. It is in this story that we meet two fascinating people, Simeon and Anna, both of whom had prayed and fasted and waited to be able to see the manifestation of the incarnation of God, the Messiah come to rescue Israel from occupation and oppression.

I'm fascinated by the two very different responses to answered prayers. I don't think they are bound by gender but they are very different. Simeon sees the infant Jesus and says, "Oh, thank God. Now, I can die!"

I've certainly said something akin to that. Indeed, I clearly remember when SCOTUS allowed as how LGBTQ+ people did, in fact, have the Civil Right of Marriage. I think I said, "I never thought in my lifetime that I would see this happen. Now, I can die and go to heaven."

Glad I didn't. As lovely as heaven sounds, I have learned what Simeon learned. Even though the battle has been won, it doesn't mean the war is over. Idaho Republican legislators have called on the Supreme Court to reverse the ruling on same-sex marriage. Indiana, Florida, Utah, and Virginia: have also attempted to repeal or limit same-sex marriage rights.

And then, there's Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher, one of the 12 Tribes of Israel, named after the 8th son of Jacob. The tribe was known for its prosperity, fertile land, and oil production. Asher means "happiness".


Perhaps, then, it was in Anna's DNA to break out into a joyous dance upon seeing the infant Jesus, despite being "of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, then as a widow to the age of eighty-four."

She became the first recorded woman evangelist of the Incarnation, who began, "to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem."

There's a lot in all of that to digest. Good thing it's the first day of the week and the Sabbath, so we have the time to sit and let that all digest. Or, as it was said of Mary, to "ponder all these things in our heart."

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.

Saturday, February 01, 2025

Epiphany XVI: Rabbits, Shirley and Brigid

Good Saturday morning, good citizens of The Epiphany Season. It's the first day of the second month of 2025, which means, "Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit."

For those who don't know, saying "Rabbit rabbit rabbit" is a superstition found in Britain and North America wherein a person says or repeats the words "rabbit", "rabbits" and/or "white rabbits" aloud upon waking on the first day of a month, to ensure good luck for the rest of it.

"The More You Know . . . . "

This is also the first day of Black History Month. Every day I'll be remembering one of the bright lights of those of the African Diaspora who have contributed so much to so many. My particular focus, as often as I am able, will be on Black women.

Today, I wish to lift up and celebrate Shirley Chisholm (1924-2005). Congress is more diverse now than it's ever been. However, when Chisholm was attempting to shatter the glass ceiling, the same couldn't be said.

During the racially contentious period in the late '60s, she became the first Black woman elected to Congress. She represented New York's 12th District from 1969 to 1983, and in 1972, she became the first woman to run for the Democratic Party’s presidential nomination.

Her campaign slogan "Unbought and unbossed" rings even louder today. Senator Kamala Harris paid tribute to Chisholm in her 2020 presidential campaign announcement by using a similar logo to Chisholm's.

Here's a prayer for today.

Do For me God

Oh, God, you know I have no money, but you can make the
people do for me, and you must make the people do for me. I will
never give you peace till you do, God. - Sojourner Truth

Today is also the Feast day of St. Brigid of Kildare. No, she's not on the Calendar of Lesser Feasts and Fasts in The Episcopal Church, but she should be. She is revered in Ireland even more than St. Patrick. Many there, in the olde sod, Catholic and Protestant alike, wouldn't think of starting the day without eating bannock (a thick, oat flatbread with dried fruit) slathered with fresh, sweet Irish butter, or a plate of colcannon (mashed potatoes and cabbage), with a side of dandelions, and a cuppa rosemary tea in her honor.

St Brigid was born in 451 in Dundalk in Ireland and died in 525. Born to a Christian slave who had been baptized by St. Patrick and a father who was both pagan and a wealthy chieftain in Leinster, she shares a name with the Celtic pagan Goddess of fire. She was a slave from birth, and was returned to her father as a child to be his servant.


Brigid would go on to become a nun and a disciple of St. Patrick. She founded several monasteries, including a vital center of religion and learning in Kildare, as well as a school of art that taught metalwork and illumination.

Her feast day marks the traditional beginning of spring in Ireland

February 1 was originally celebrated as a pagan festival called Imbolc, marking the midpoint between the winter equinox and spring solstice, and the arrival of longer, warmer days.

February 1 is when the daffodils start to bloom, the evenings start to lengthen, and the gloom of winter goes on its way. Brigid would be symbolically welcomed in Irish homes on the day, with a symbolic offering of food and drink. It is also traditional to make St. Brigid’s crosses out of rushes (a straw-like plant); people believed in olden days that these crosses would protect their thatched homes from fire.

My favorite story about Brigid is that, when the bishop came to make her the Abbess of her order, he apparently read the wrong prayer of consecration, making her, instead of Abbess, a bishop.

When later told what had happened, the bishop reportedly said, "What I have done, I have done."

So, you may notice that in many stained glass windows, icons, and statues, she carries a shepherd's crook, as is befitting a bishop.

There's a lot wrong in the world today, but at least we can stop and honor these two women who tried their best to make things right.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.
 

Friday, January 31, 2025

Epiphany XXV: Purification

 

Good Friday morning, comrades and citizens of the last vestiges of The Epiphany Season. Tomorrow, February 1, begins Black History Month. Yes, for the whole entire month but, in their wisdom, the "powers that be" gave Black History Month the shortest month. And, the coldest. Le sigh and SMDH.

Tomorrow is the Feast of St. Brigid of Kildare (Brigit, Bridget, Bridgit, Bríd or Bride) (c. 451–525). Yes, it's also the Eve of the Feast of the Presentation - one of the rare times it actually falls on a Sunday.

Actually, Brigid begins quite a Triduum of Feast Days on the first three days of the second month: It's Brigid on the first of February, the Feast of the Presentation on the second (which some celebrate as the Feast of St. Anna the Dancing Queen), and the Feast of St. Blaise on the third.

I'll have more to say about Brigid tomorrow (there are so many wonderful stories about her, she deserves her own day), but I do want to say something about this one aspect of The Feast of the Presentation, also known as Candlemas.

So, Candlemas is on the Feast of the Presentation, which was also known as the Feast of the Purification of Mary, even in the 1549 BCP.

Back in the day, you know, before we completely eradicated sexism and misogyny and the Equal Rights Amendment was not only passed but published by the (woman who is) US Archivist, the church celebrated sexist events like the Purification of Mary - the ancient ritual wherein a woman had to be "purified" of the Icky Stuff of Childbirth, according to Mosaic law, known as the mikvah.

If you are so persuaded, you might count the days from the Feast of the Nativity (12/25) to the Feast of the Presentation (2/2) and come up with 40 days, exactly.

According to the Law of Moses, a woman who gave birth to a son was considered "unclean" for 40 days, at which time she would have typically completed the normal flow of blood after childbirth. She would have to take a mikvah - a ritual bath - which every woman took after her menses - and then go to the priest for special prayers of purification.

This ritual, sans mikvah, was carried out in the Church of England 1549 BCP which occurred at the entrance to the church, with the following prayer:
"O ALMIGHTIE God, which hast delivered this woman thy servant from the great payne and peril of childbirth: Graunt, we beseche thee (most mercifull father), that she through thy helpe may both faithfully lyve, and walke in her vocacyon accordynge to thy will in thys lyfe presente; and also may be partaker of everlastyng glorye in the lyfe to come: through Jesus Christ our lorde. Amen.
There follows this rubrical note:
"The woman that is purifyed, must offer her Crysome (a white cloth, anointed by the priest with holy oil and used for baptism) and other accustomed offeringes. And if there be a communion, it is convenient that she receive the holy communion.
But, you know, communion only if it is "convenient".

The service was renamed The Thanksgiving of Women after Childbirth in the 1552 BCP and renamed, again, A Thanksgiving for the Birth or Adoption of a Child in the 1979 BCP.

We don't have any prayers for purity for women or men in the BCP, except the prayer on the 4th Sunday of Advent: "Purify our conscience, Almighty God, by your daily visitation, that your Son Jesus Christ, at his coming, may find in us a mansion prepared for himself".

"Purify our conscience," comes from Hebrews 9:14 which refers to the idea that Jesus's blood cleanses people's consciences from dead works. Which is odd for the 4th Sunday in Advent, but hey, as it will say on my tombstone, "Nobody asked me."

It is meet and right, I think, that we have shifted our emphasis to the presentation of Jesus in the Temple as the fulfillment of the prophecy of the Incarnation, as testified by Simeon and Anna.

Candlemas originated in Jerusalem in the late 4th century as a celebration of the light of God in Christ. The name comes from the custom of blessing and distributing candles before Mass. The festival was celebrated in the Western church to honor the Virgin Mary, and in the Eastern church to honor Christ.

Today, in the Episcopal Church, we bless candles in church and take them home to remember Jesus as the Light of the World. We might use them to bless throats on the Feast of St. Blaise, but I'll save that story when it's her feast day.

My rector tells me that he will be blessing candles for distribution on Sunday. I can't remember the last time I was in church when that happened. There's something that excites something in the middle of the middle of my soul about participating in the ancient customs of the church.

It doesn't change a thing. Nobody is "purified" or "cleansed" - except in the collect, we do pray that "we may be presented to you with pure and clean hearts by Jesus Christ our Lord."

I much prefer the new, reformed Collect, which is more to the point. It comes to us from the Canterbury Book of New Parish Prayers by M J Kramer (which I recommend highly).
"God of all nations, whose servant Simeon saw in the child Jesus the revelation of your ancient promises, and whose servant Anna spoke of his truth to all who were seeking redemption, stir up within us your gift of faith, that our eyes may see our salvation in Jesus Christ and our lives be turned to his service, in words of conviction and deeds of compassion, through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."
So there, now that you know almost everything you need to know about Candlemas, your palate has been cleansed for the stories of the Triduum of Women Saints: Brigid, Anna, and Blaise.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.