Last Sunday we celebrated Black History Month a the church. We had a guest musician--Glenn Marais--which presented some interesting planning challenges. Glenn is a performer and educator interested in bringing change into the world through education. He is primarily used to giving an hour and a half long presentation to high school groups and other venues. And while a musical tour of black history would be interesting, it wouldn't necessarily be the gospel. And my people need the gospel, yeah know? So the challenge was to squeeze his presentation into a 45-minute "Liturgy of the Word" part of the service.
Because Glenn does not know how to lead congregational singing (hymns and such), I had to rely on my choir to lead the few hymns we did a capella. I used the RCL's Hebrew Bible lesson (aka "Old Testament"), but changed the Gospel reading. I also selected a relevant Eucharistic Prayer. I had to cut or streamline a bunch of other stuff, and those you interested in liturgy might like to see the leaflet I made:
Click here to the leaflet.
What the leaflet does not reveal is some of the cool stuff that happened spontaneously. For example, after communion someone passed me a note asking whether I thought we should lay hands on Glenn and pray for his ministry. So at announcement time we did just that--forming a holy-huddle of hands around him as I prayed that he would receive the Spirit's gifts of wisdom for his work of spreading a message of peace and reconciliation. We've only done this a couple of other times since I've been at Messiah, but the nature of this community is that they are totally prepared to "roll with it." Afterwards I was telling someone about how the Quakers handle "leadings" of the Spirit--there are many useful pieces of wisdom from that tradition.
Glenn was quite humbled and moved by the experience. I was pleased about that, too. Our community might be struggling to figure out the money thing, but we certainly have some solid spiritual foundations on which to build!
-t
PS. I think most churchy people are service bulletin/leaflet connoisseurs. If you are of that mindset, you will find some of the things in this leaflet design worth noting, like the deliberate creation of margin space to put extra notes and marginalia. Most of this design has evolved over the years, especially when my former Music Minister, Eric, took over doing the leaflets. We went back and forth on the design and made huge strides--even just switching over to InDesign (previously they had been done on Microsoft Publisher) was a huge step forward. It gave him (or whomever was making the leaflet) far more dexterity. Since Eric left we hadn't had a leaflet--I just didn't have time to make one with everything else going on. But last week it was necessary because of departures from the BAS Glenn's visit inspired.
Showing posts with label Holy Spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Spirit. Show all posts
Monday, February 28, 2011
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Wind
Today has been a really interesting day. I felt very "priestly" as I did some rewarding ministry. It started off with my usual Wednesday morning Contemplative Eucharist. Because all the prayers are extemporaneous, it requires a lot of contemplative focus to be in the right moment. You really have to be "right" with the Spirit to do it well, and I find the spiritual challenge of that both exhilarating and humbling.
After that I said morning prayer by myself and did some administrative tasks. Then I had back-to-back counseling sessions that turned out to be Spirit-full and rewarding. I certainly wouldn't say that the Holy Spirit was absent from my life when I was on leave, but She was usually veiled a bit. But when you are working with someone one-on-one on deep spiritual issues sometimes you get this sense of presence that is wonderful. Those kinds of moments in counseling/direction give me such joy and consolation. Occasional moments like I had today are more than enough affirmation of my ministry to sustain me for some time.
Nor does it hurt to have the sense of making progress with the Administrative load I have to bear. Last night we had an NCD--Natural Church Development--planning meeting that went well. I think NCD will be be helpful as we figure out where to go, strategically and operationally. Today I submitted some paperwork for reimbursement for some of my retreat expenses from the summer (Anglican Priests in Canada have a nationally-managed continuing education fund). We are on track to print the latest edition of the resurrected parish newsletter this week. The staff meeting yesterday was very productive. Etc., etc. I'm crossing things off the to-do list and it feels great.
The perfect end is going to come in a few hours as I go sailing. The prediction is for strong winds, so we expect a challenging and exciting race. Last week's strong winds caused the fore-stay to let loose, which could have brought the whole mast down. Fast action saved the rigging and the repair turned out to be straight forward. One of the nice things about racing a Catalina '27 is that she has some extra margins of durability in the design. Many other boats would have lost their masts immediately if the fore-stay broke, but a little bit of redundancy in the rigging design of the Catalina '27 gave us enough time to jury-rig a temporary fix and limp back into port. So we are excited to give her another go.
Henry is doing great. He crawls all over the place, now, which means he must be constantly watched unless we have him in his crib or a pack-n-play. The living room has mostly been turned into a baby-safe zone, but now we need some barriers to keep him in there. He has figured out that he can easily and quickly crawl from the living room to the kitchen. Several times I've caught him just in time as he grabbed a handful of cat food. I think his look of delight on reaching the cat bowls would change to confusion if he managed to shove the pellets into his mouth.
Life is grand. Today is a good day.
-t
After that I said morning prayer by myself and did some administrative tasks. Then I had back-to-back counseling sessions that turned out to be Spirit-full and rewarding. I certainly wouldn't say that the Holy Spirit was absent from my life when I was on leave, but She was usually veiled a bit. But when you are working with someone one-on-one on deep spiritual issues sometimes you get this sense of presence that is wonderful. Those kinds of moments in counseling/direction give me such joy and consolation. Occasional moments like I had today are more than enough affirmation of my ministry to sustain me for some time.
Nor does it hurt to have the sense of making progress with the Administrative load I have to bear. Last night we had an NCD--Natural Church Development--planning meeting that went well. I think NCD will be be helpful as we figure out where to go, strategically and operationally. Today I submitted some paperwork for reimbursement for some of my retreat expenses from the summer (Anglican Priests in Canada have a nationally-managed continuing education fund). We are on track to print the latest edition of the resurrected parish newsletter this week. The staff meeting yesterday was very productive. Etc., etc. I'm crossing things off the to-do list and it feels great.
The perfect end is going to come in a few hours as I go sailing. The prediction is for strong winds, so we expect a challenging and exciting race. Last week's strong winds caused the fore-stay to let loose, which could have brought the whole mast down. Fast action saved the rigging and the repair turned out to be straight forward. One of the nice things about racing a Catalina '27 is that she has some extra margins of durability in the design. Many other boats would have lost their masts immediately if the fore-stay broke, but a little bit of redundancy in the rigging design of the Catalina '27 gave us enough time to jury-rig a temporary fix and limp back into port. So we are excited to give her another go.
Henry is doing great. He crawls all over the place, now, which means he must be constantly watched unless we have him in his crib or a pack-n-play. The living room has mostly been turned into a baby-safe zone, but now we need some barriers to keep him in there. He has figured out that he can easily and quickly crawl from the living room to the kitchen. Several times I've caught him just in time as he grabbed a handful of cat food. I think his look of delight on reaching the cat bowls would change to confusion if he managed to shove the pellets into his mouth.
Life is grand. Today is a good day.
-t
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
It Never Gets Old
Those that read this blog regularly know about the Contemplative Eucharists that I do on Wednesday mornings (and now, also on Saturday afternoons). It's basically just a Communion service done in a contemplative style. Lots of silence and meditation. Over time it has evolved. Now I have a regular group of four people who come almost every week. I've also moved away from a set text and now do all the prayers (including the Eucharistic prayers) extemporaneously.
I could write a whole essay (or even a book) about the "how" and "why" of praying the Eucharistic off-the-cuff. Certainly it's not something I would recommend to just anybody, it takes a lot of preparation and discipline to do with the integrity. But there is an ancient precedent for this sort of prayer in the Mozarabic Rite. Also keep in mind that this is not something I do on Sunday mornings and I have the permission of the Bishop. The final ingredient is a community of worshippers who are sophisticated enough in their theology and well formed enough in their spirituality to make this work.
And when it works... it's gorgeous. This morning was one of those mornings when I think we all felt blessed by the presence of the Holy Spirit. After doing the liturgy we spent some time talking, as is our custom. The topic was the Gospel text for the day--Jesus talking about how he has come to fulfil, not abolish, the law. From that we started talking about the freedom we have in Christ and the discipline of living a holy life. It was beautiful.
It occurred to me, afterwards, that building up this little service for four people has required a lot of discipline from me. I've had to show up every Wednesday for years to make this happen. And the spiritual rewards for that work are beyond value, as far as I am concerned.
It's a classic pattern of ministry, and has taught me an important lesson about priest-craft. Gathering and building up a community of disciples of Jesus takes time and the wilingness to show up, week after week, even when the ground seems dry and unyielding. Forget about quick fixes and rejoice in small blessings.
I'm going to Canterbury Cathedral this summer for a retreat. I'm thinking that I should add a few days to the trip to see if I can find some little groups of Christ-followers that have stories of faithfulness I can bring back to Toronto.
-t
I could write a whole essay (or even a book) about the "how" and "why" of praying the Eucharistic off-the-cuff. Certainly it's not something I would recommend to just anybody, it takes a lot of preparation and discipline to do with the integrity. But there is an ancient precedent for this sort of prayer in the Mozarabic Rite. Also keep in mind that this is not something I do on Sunday mornings and I have the permission of the Bishop. The final ingredient is a community of worshippers who are sophisticated enough in their theology and well formed enough in their spirituality to make this work.
And when it works... it's gorgeous. This morning was one of those mornings when I think we all felt blessed by the presence of the Holy Spirit. After doing the liturgy we spent some time talking, as is our custom. The topic was the Gospel text for the day--Jesus talking about how he has come to fulfil, not abolish, the law. From that we started talking about the freedom we have in Christ and the discipline of living a holy life. It was beautiful.
It occurred to me, afterwards, that building up this little service for four people has required a lot of discipline from me. I've had to show up every Wednesday for years to make this happen. And the spiritual rewards for that work are beyond value, as far as I am concerned.
It's a classic pattern of ministry, and has taught me an important lesson about priest-craft. Gathering and building up a community of disciples of Jesus takes time and the wilingness to show up, week after week, even when the ground seems dry and unyielding. Forget about quick fixes and rejoice in small blessings.
I'm going to Canterbury Cathedral this summer for a retreat. I'm thinking that I should add a few days to the trip to see if I can find some little groups of Christ-followers that have stories of faithfulness I can bring back to Toronto.
-t
Friday, December 11, 2009
FEWG
FEWG--The Fresh Expressions Working Group--is a Diocesan Committee that primarily is responsible for overseeing church planting in the Diocese of Toronto. That means both serving as gate-keepers to the money set aside to assist in setting up church plants (through the grant process and ultimately controlled by Diocesan Council), but even more importantly we companion on-going projects, think strategically about where God may be calling the Diocese next, and recruit and discern potential missional leaders.
I'm a very junior member of this committee and have only been to three meetings so far, but I have to say that I am extremely impressed with how they do business/ministry. I'm not sure I have been a part of a committee than has been more open to the work of the Holy Spirit. It is not uncommon for people to speak about how they think God has been active in the work they are talking about. And we speak quite a lot about how God's providence is working itself out in the Diocese of Toronto. It's a very "spiritual" sort of discussion that we have around that table. It's also quite down-to-earth nuts-and-bolts, too, but there is no contradiction there. I wish there was a way to share some stories from that committee because I think people throughout the Diocese would be encouraged both by the good news of what we are discovering in this process as well as by the amazingly holy way that the committee and the planters have gone about the work of building up the Kingdom. Very, very cool.
I also appreciate how fun these meetings are. Lots of laughing and joking around. They feed us lunch (sandwiches and pop), and we do a devotional time before the meeting starts in earnest. The Archbishop, Colin "Double-Cross" Johnson, joins us. (His nickname "double-cross" comes from the way he follows the tradition of putting two crosses in front of his name since he became Archbishop.) The meetings last about two hours.
A sign of a good meeting is that everyone leaves feeling even more excited about their work than when they entered. Something about getting a group of enthusiastic people together ought to create something between them that it is powerful and exhilarating, you know?
-t
I'm a very junior member of this committee and have only been to three meetings so far, but I have to say that I am extremely impressed with how they do business/ministry. I'm not sure I have been a part of a committee than has been more open to the work of the Holy Spirit. It is not uncommon for people to speak about how they think God has been active in the work they are talking about. And we speak quite a lot about how God's providence is working itself out in the Diocese of Toronto. It's a very "spiritual" sort of discussion that we have around that table. It's also quite down-to-earth nuts-and-bolts, too, but there is no contradiction there. I wish there was a way to share some stories from that committee because I think people throughout the Diocese would be encouraged both by the good news of what we are discovering in this process as well as by the amazingly holy way that the committee and the planters have gone about the work of building up the Kingdom. Very, very cool.
I also appreciate how fun these meetings are. Lots of laughing and joking around. They feed us lunch (sandwiches and pop), and we do a devotional time before the meeting starts in earnest. The Archbishop, Colin "Double-Cross" Johnson, joins us. (His nickname "double-cross" comes from the way he follows the tradition of putting two crosses in front of his name since he became Archbishop.) The meetings last about two hours.
A sign of a good meeting is that everyone leaves feeling even more excited about their work than when they entered. Something about getting a group of enthusiastic people together ought to create something between them that it is powerful and exhilarating, you know?
-t
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The Holy Spirit in Worship...
Emily Scott, one of my liturgist friends, wrote an interesting piece for Episcopal Cafe Blog back in December:
This rings true for me. So much of the liturgy we do in the Church seems designed to leave as little room for the Holy Spirit as possible. When the Holy Spirit does show up, everyone seems surprised (no one more so, perhaps, than the priest). How remarkable that the best worship services I see happening outside of my own parish are often on the fringes of other communities: house eucharists sponsored by one congregation, the "early service" on a Sunday morning at another, the sort of worship we do at Synods and camp. The edge is where it's at.
That's why I think it's important to push the envelope a bit at regular Sunday services. I don't think you want to push people over the edge, but you got to make a gesture worthy of the boldness of the Gospel, ya know?
Sure, it's possible to find that edge in even the most ritual-notes-following, high-church, incense-burning, BCP-loving homage to Victorian Spirituality. I remember finding that edge at SMM a few times at the 11 AM Solemn Mass. But I think that we as clergy (and laity) need to do a better job of pushing ourselves to the fullest expression of prayer we are able to offer.
To do the opposite is to fall into a kind of apathetic, too-comfortable repetition that I see disturbingly often.
It's nice to be in a parish that appreciates us looking for that edge of faithful prayer together. I'm really excited about our plans for Advent!
-t
Holy Chaos, or: What Episcopalians can learn from Baptists
....
Urban Holmes wrote that good liturgy leads regularly to the edge of chaos, a regular flirt with doom (Theology and Religious Renewal). These past weeks in worship, I’ve felt myself clearly standing dangerously on the edge of a precipice – nothing below me but God.
How often do we trick ourselves into believing that if we do everything right – if we use the right words and process the right way and bow at the right moments, God will be present in our worship? How often do we deceive ourselves into, as Aidan Kavanaugh so incisively wrote, “tam[ing] the Lion of Judah and [putting] him into a suburban zoo to entertain children (On Liturgical Theology)?
And how often to we believe, as we stand in the Narthex among the acolytes and choir members, that the cataclysmic Spirit of God just might thunder into our sanctuary, cracking open our familiar and comforting practices, and change the very lives of the people to whom we minister? How often do we trust that someone might be healed, that someone might be saved? How often do we trust our own ability to be the lighting rod to God’s presence and touch? .... (source)
This rings true for me. So much of the liturgy we do in the Church seems designed to leave as little room for the Holy Spirit as possible. When the Holy Spirit does show up, everyone seems surprised (no one more so, perhaps, than the priest). How remarkable that the best worship services I see happening outside of my own parish are often on the fringes of other communities: house eucharists sponsored by one congregation, the "early service" on a Sunday morning at another, the sort of worship we do at Synods and camp. The edge is where it's at.
That's why I think it's important to push the envelope a bit at regular Sunday services. I don't think you want to push people over the edge, but you got to make a gesture worthy of the boldness of the Gospel, ya know?
Sure, it's possible to find that edge in even the most ritual-notes-following, high-church, incense-burning, BCP-loving homage to Victorian Spirituality. I remember finding that edge at SMM a few times at the 11 AM Solemn Mass. But I think that we as clergy (and laity) need to do a better job of pushing ourselves to the fullest expression of prayer we are able to offer.
To do the opposite is to fall into a kind of apathetic, too-comfortable repetition that I see disturbingly often.
It's nice to be in a parish that appreciates us looking for that edge of faithful prayer together. I'm really excited about our plans for Advent!
-t
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Sunday Morning Grace
This morning, as I went through my usual before-Sunday-morning routine, I did not feel god about it at all. I was particularly fretting over my sermon, given how disappointing I found last week. I also had other things on my mind that made me feel less than stellar about my ministry. All the way down the hill on my 15 minute walk I second guessed various decisions that I've made over the last seven months. It was not a good day to be Tay.
But then I sat down at my computer (ORAC) in my office and worked on my sermon some more. As is often the case, the breakthrough came when I read someone else's inspiring sermon. So true--you have to hear the Word before you can preach the word. In particular, it was this sermon by the Rev'd Dr James Lemler, Priest-in-Charge at Christ Church, Greenwich, CT, that struck me. It's entitled, "Blah, Blah, Blah... Love." Essentially, it's about how the Trinity is way of saying that at the heart of God is love. Earlier I had read some more academic versions of the same idea (including something by Jürgen Moltmann).
Attendance was low--the rain and the long Victoria Day weekend didn't help--but everyone was there that was supposed to be there, and as soon as the service started I could tell that it would be a graceful, if quiet, morning. I wouldn't say it was solemn, exactly, more like "gentle." Hard to know what takes a service in the direction of one mood or another. Is it the weather? It is it me? Hard to know.
But as soon as I started my sermon I knew that I was in the zone. It was a quiet sermon, but really smooth and nice. I thought it was the strongest sermon I've given for a few weeks--but it's hard to know how other people liked it. Anyway, I'll post it when I get a chance.
What struck me, even during the service, was the way in which you can receive grace from the Sunday morning worship if you allow yourself to be open to the Spirit. For instance, since I had to do anointing and laying on of hands, I had to ask an extra person to be a Minister of Communion who normally doesn't get to do it. Many more than usual came up to receive anointing than usual, and since I didn't have to worry about distributing communion I could take my time and really pray for each of them. After everyone had received the sacraments, I kneeled at the rail myself and asked one of the Ministers of Communion to pray over and anoint me. Many priests do not have the humility to allow someone to pray over them during a service they are supposed to be leading--but why not? How do you expect your people to accept prayers for healing, in public, if you yourself will not submit to receive this grace?
How can this not be what I'm supposed to do at COTM? Preach the Gospel and convey God's Grace... what else is there for a parish priest?
-t
But then I sat down at my computer (ORAC) in my office and worked on my sermon some more. As is often the case, the breakthrough came when I read someone else's inspiring sermon. So true--you have to hear the Word before you can preach the word. In particular, it was this sermon by the Rev'd Dr James Lemler, Priest-in-Charge at Christ Church, Greenwich, CT, that struck me. It's entitled, "Blah, Blah, Blah... Love." Essentially, it's about how the Trinity is way of saying that at the heart of God is love. Earlier I had read some more academic versions of the same idea (including something by Jürgen Moltmann).
Attendance was low--the rain and the long Victoria Day weekend didn't help--but everyone was there that was supposed to be there, and as soon as the service started I could tell that it would be a graceful, if quiet, morning. I wouldn't say it was solemn, exactly, more like "gentle." Hard to know what takes a service in the direction of one mood or another. Is it the weather? It is it me? Hard to know.
But as soon as I started my sermon I knew that I was in the zone. It was a quiet sermon, but really smooth and nice. I thought it was the strongest sermon I've given for a few weeks--but it's hard to know how other people liked it. Anyway, I'll post it when I get a chance.
What struck me, even during the service, was the way in which you can receive grace from the Sunday morning worship if you allow yourself to be open to the Spirit. For instance, since I had to do anointing and laying on of hands, I had to ask an extra person to be a Minister of Communion who normally doesn't get to do it. Many more than usual came up to receive anointing than usual, and since I didn't have to worry about distributing communion I could take my time and really pray for each of them. After everyone had received the sacraments, I kneeled at the rail myself and asked one of the Ministers of Communion to pray over and anoint me. Many priests do not have the humility to allow someone to pray over them during a service they are supposed to be leading--but why not? How do you expect your people to accept prayers for healing, in public, if you yourself will not submit to receive this grace?
How can this not be what I'm supposed to do at COTM? Preach the Gospel and convey God's Grace... what else is there for a parish priest?
-t
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Sermon - Pentecost 2008
Here's my Pentecost Sermon from last Sunday. To tell the truth, I was kind of disappointed with this one. It's okay, but not nearly as good as what I had come up with before I preached it. I had a very good sermon on my head which I then outlined on paper. I had the paper with the outline in front on me as I preached this. At a critical moment when I needed to make a big, insightful jump connecting initiation with love I couldn't remember what to say. I looked at the outline, but I couldn't find the right note on it to remind myself. Isn't that annoying?
So the sermon ended up being 10 minutes instead of 12. And it didn't quite come home in the way or with the spirit which I attended. How ironic on Pentecost! But that's the risk you take when your preaching relies so heavily on the proximal aid of the Holy Spirit!
I find that I can't really be critical of my own sermons to my parishioners. When I've said something in the past about a sermon that didn't live up to my own expectations, I usually get looks of alarm and dismay. I think part of the dynamic of pastoral preaching is that people look for things in the sermon they can grab onto, and criticizing it in retrospect deeply undermines the whole enterprise. I think it must feel like some bad faith. They know you're not perfect, but make a covenant to not point out your faults. So by criticizing your own sermons you break the good faith agreement that sermons will simply stand, in the public space, without criticism.
Of course, people will talk amongst themselves about your preaching, but that kind of private discourse is totally different from what they say the preacher! So I've learned that nothing good comes from criticizing your own sermons with parishioners.
Now, self-criticism is a totally different barrel of monkeys. There I believe we should be as critical and heartless as we care to be. In this case, what really frustrates me is that I was so in the spirit with this sermon a few hours before I gave it. Something changed on the walk from study to pulpit. I've experienced it before, and damn is it disconcerting!
It's ultimately a spiritual problem with a spiritual solution. Perhaps I didn't pray through the sermon enough? Perhaps I didn't spend enough time becoming convinced by own ideas? Conviction is the currency of preaching, and you have to believe what you are saying to the bone if you want to "land" it with your congregation. Sigh.
A direct link to the MP3 file...
Anyway, life goes on. I'm preaching again this Sunday, so I have yet another chance to say a meaningful Word to my people. Preaching is hard.
-t
So the sermon ended up being 10 minutes instead of 12. And it didn't quite come home in the way or with the spirit which I attended. How ironic on Pentecost! But that's the risk you take when your preaching relies so heavily on the proximal aid of the Holy Spirit!
I find that I can't really be critical of my own sermons to my parishioners. When I've said something in the past about a sermon that didn't live up to my own expectations, I usually get looks of alarm and dismay. I think part of the dynamic of pastoral preaching is that people look for things in the sermon they can grab onto, and criticizing it in retrospect deeply undermines the whole enterprise. I think it must feel like some bad faith. They know you're not perfect, but make a covenant to not point out your faults. So by criticizing your own sermons you break the good faith agreement that sermons will simply stand, in the public space, without criticism.
Of course, people will talk amongst themselves about your preaching, but that kind of private discourse is totally different from what they say the preacher! So I've learned that nothing good comes from criticizing your own sermons with parishioners.
Now, self-criticism is a totally different barrel of monkeys. There I believe we should be as critical and heartless as we care to be. In this case, what really frustrates me is that I was so in the spirit with this sermon a few hours before I gave it. Something changed on the walk from study to pulpit. I've experienced it before, and damn is it disconcerting!
It's ultimately a spiritual problem with a spiritual solution. Perhaps I didn't pray through the sermon enough? Perhaps I didn't spend enough time becoming convinced by own ideas? Conviction is the currency of preaching, and you have to believe what you are saying to the bone if you want to "land" it with your congregation. Sigh.
A direct link to the MP3 file...
Anyway, life goes on. I'm preaching again this Sunday, so I have yet another chance to say a meaningful Word to my people. Preaching is hard.
-t
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sermon - Easter 6 2008
This Sermon that I gave on Easter 6 (April 27) 2008 was mostly given to the kids. Once a month they stay with their parents in church as we do an interactive children's sermon of some kind. Mostly I was preaching about the "Advocate"--the Holy Spirit--that Jesus promises to send in John 12:15-21.
Here's the MP3 file...
-t
Here's the MP3 file...
-t
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Prayer of the Week - Easter 6
Beloved Parishioners,
In the Gospel reading for this upcoming Sunday, Jesus promises to send "The Advocate" to us: "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him" (John 14:16-17). This Spirit who is to succeed Jesus on earth is described with the Greek word "Paraclete," which was a word used most commonly in the Greek world for lawyers ("Advocates").
Lawyers are very useful people to know. My family has been involved in law since my grandfather's generation. When he first became a lawyer in New Jersey during the Great Depression, few of his clients could pay him. He accepted chickens and other goods in barter, but often people didn't even have that much. He told me how they would come into his office and say, "Mr. Johnson, I can't pay you anything, but I sure do have a problem..." As he was a young lawyer just getting started, this experience was probably as valuable to him as it was to his clients, but he never forgot his obligation to help people if he could. His passed his practice and values on to his son (my uncle) who has since taken on his son (my cousin) as his partner.
Of course, whenever anyone in my family has had a legal matter that needed some advice, the temptation to simply pickup the phone and call "Johnson & Johnson" has been reassuring. When you get to the point where you need a lawyer, you know you want someone you can trust to represent your interests.
This makes Jesus' description of the Holy Spirit as a kind of divine family lawyer even more poignant. This is someone who will represent our interests through the trials of life. Furthermore, he promises to do it with with a word of Truth that will abide in us, unknowable by the world. It's a beautiful promise that should give us much courage as we face our trials.
-t
In the Gospel reading for this upcoming Sunday, Jesus promises to send "The Advocate" to us: "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him" (John 14:16-17). This Spirit who is to succeed Jesus on earth is described with the Greek word "Paraclete," which was a word used most commonly in the Greek world for lawyers ("Advocates").
Lawyers are very useful people to know. My family has been involved in law since my grandfather's generation. When he first became a lawyer in New Jersey during the Great Depression, few of his clients could pay him. He accepted chickens and other goods in barter, but often people didn't even have that much. He told me how they would come into his office and say, "Mr. Johnson, I can't pay you anything, but I sure do have a problem..." As he was a young lawyer just getting started, this experience was probably as valuable to him as it was to his clients, but he never forgot his obligation to help people if he could. His passed his practice and values on to his son (my uncle) who has since taken on his son (my cousin) as his partner.
Of course, whenever anyone in my family has had a legal matter that needed some advice, the temptation to simply pickup the phone and call "Johnson & Johnson" has been reassuring. When you get to the point where you need a lawyer, you know you want someone you can trust to represent your interests.
This makes Jesus' description of the Holy Spirit as a kind of divine family lawyer even more poignant. This is someone who will represent our interests through the trials of life. Furthermore, he promises to do it with with a word of Truth that will abide in us, unknowable by the world. It's a beautiful promise that should give us much courage as we face our trials.
Holy God, source of all knowledge and truth, your being surpasses all human knowledge. Send your Holy Advocate to abide in us as a word of Truth. Enlighten and change us with your indwelling spirit. Comfort us with the presence of Truth now and until the end of the ages. We ask this through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
-t
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Back at HCM
It's 10:20 and the everybody is in bed at the monastery. By most standards the monks at Holy Cross are early to bed and early to rise. But it's also true, in my experience, that people sleep better here than other places. Once you get established in the rhythm of Offices you want to go to bed at 10 p.m. The quiet and the general balance of life also conspire to make bedtimes earlier.
Alas, not so for me. These days I have trouble getting to bed before 2 a.m. It's a problem I've lived with for a long time. For some reason, my mind/body/soul just has a hard time sleeping at night. The more stressed I am, the more this problem manifests. The only times when I've really been able to consistently go to bed early have been when I'm here.
(Incidentally, the writing of this blog just got interrupted by a monk who wanted to use this computer--so my generalization about the monks going to bed earlier is shot. That's the problem with generalizations--they are always being disrupted by evidence.)
Ok, I'm back. In the interim I did something I always do when I come here--check in with my favorite spots. I almost always visit the Founder's crypt first to say a prayer for the Order and light a candle. Then there's the corner in the Pilgrim Hall I like to read in, the Lesser Cloister, and of course the monastery church itself. I discerned my call to the priesthood there. I said my first Mass there. I got married there (all on the same spot on the rug, even) so of course I have a strong connection to that place. This evening I simply lay down on the rug and stared up at the ceiling. The place feels slightly different this time, as it does every time. It's not elaborate and ornate--but something of the prayers said five times a day sinks into it and makes it feel different. A lot of people have connections to one holy place or another--but this is mine. I didn't choose it--it chose me.
This evening--affectionate thoughts about COTM. I'm thinking and praying particularly for a few individuals on my mind. Funny how when you're the Pastor suddenly you really do feel connected to people you didn't even know six months ago. I worry for them. I fuss in my mind for them. But I don't want to interfere or seem overbearing. Any gesture becomes magnified by the role into something grand, so I have to be very careful and deliberate. I'm still learning about how to express myself in this role. Being an "Associate Priest," by the way, was terrible preparation. Being the Rector and being an Associate are two completely different animals.
Today I'm just Tay, AHC. That's spiritual practice enough to keep me busy for a lifetime. At one point today I was staring at the Hudson River and listening to bagpipes thinking, "I could be here for fifty years and still be overwhelmed by what the River has to teach me." Yes, bagpipes. Good bagpipes echoing through the valley. And the River. The eternal ebb and flow. "And always we begin again."
One of the neat/weird things that happens here is that I can find myself staring at a spot on a wall or a strange shadow cast by the big oak in the courtyard for minutes at a time. When I realize that I'm doing it I don't feel self-conscious or rushed in the least. There is an rare accommodation to internal process made here. it's part of the DNA of the monastic movement, I think, that people can spend their best energies on spiritual development without apology.
Anyway, now I do feel like lying in bed for a while. Cheers all.
-t
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Correction
This morning was the annual "Renewal of Vows and Chrism Mass" at the Cathedral. That means that most of the clergy in the Diocese gather to renew our Ordination Vows. Also during the service, the Bishops bless the oil that is used through the year for Chrismation and Unction. All the clergy tote bottles to the service to have them filled for the year's supply. (Of course, plenty more is kept at the Cathedral in case we run out.) It's an interesting tradition that helps remind us all of our connection to the Bishops and the Diocesan family.
Every year before the service Christian Swayne, OHC, sits in a side-chapel to hear Confessions before the service. Usually I take advantage of this opportunity to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation (aka "Confession"), but this year I didn't for two reasons: 1) I arrived at the Cathedral about 15 minutes before the service, and didn't feel like I was in the right head-space to confess for that reason, and 2) I couldn't think of anything specific to confess this year. Of course, often when I've gone for this sacrament I've confessed something vague and innocuous, which has some value, but it's not what we usually imagine Confession is for. As I sat in my Cathedral box-pew, I decided that Reconciliation is best received after suitable preparation, which I hadn't really done, so I should just try again next year.
The service itself was mostly about faithfulness and discipleship--worthy themes to preach to a church full of priests--but I wasn't really moved until I went up for Communion and passed through the choir while they sang some particularly lovely canticle (a setting of Ubi Caritas, I believe). At that moment, ascending the steps into the chancel and surrounded at once by the choir, the stain glass, so many clergy friends, and immanent Communion, I smiled and tilted my head back to drink it all in.
Then God pulled the rug out from my comfortable ego. By the time today was done I was made aware of several ways in which I failed people. Basically, several different people, in all love and charity, confronted me about some things I've failed to take care of recently. It's nothing that really hurts people or things in a major way, but it's just stuff where I let people down. I was expected to do certain things and I failed. I had to apologize and promise to do better. More than that, I was able to come up with some ways of correcting my behavior so that I should get a better result next time.
This kind of correction is hard. But, you know, we priest-types are always asking our people to accept loving criticism, and that's pretty hypocritical if we aren't willing to accept some ourselves. A senior priest told me a few months ago, "You need people to tell you when you are being an ass hole." So true.
The place where I really learned how to take criticism well was CPE. CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) is a training program for clergy that involves a combination of supervised pastoral care (in the form of chaplaincy) and what amount to group and individual therapy. One of the key experiences in this is learning how to criticize your peers and receive criticism in a healthy way. This is very, very difficult. But in CPE we spent literally hours and hours sitting in a circle listening to others criticize us. It's brutal. But if you survive, it's because you've developed a way to receive and process critique (and all the emotions that go with it).
Of course, some clergy would say that you should never admit to making mistakes in public unless you really must, because it undermines people's trust in your competence. But I think that's just baloney--if we can't repent openly, how is anyone else going to learn to do it? We are called to be models of the Christian life, after all, and that means continual amendment of life!
So now I need to get some cat litter and then work on a project due tomorrow morning that I have been procrastinating on. God help me, a sinner!
-t
Every year before the service Christian Swayne, OHC, sits in a side-chapel to hear Confessions before the service. Usually I take advantage of this opportunity to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation (aka "Confession"), but this year I didn't for two reasons: 1) I arrived at the Cathedral about 15 minutes before the service, and didn't feel like I was in the right head-space to confess for that reason, and 2) I couldn't think of anything specific to confess this year. Of course, often when I've gone for this sacrament I've confessed something vague and innocuous, which has some value, but it's not what we usually imagine Confession is for. As I sat in my Cathedral box-pew, I decided that Reconciliation is best received after suitable preparation, which I hadn't really done, so I should just try again next year.
The service itself was mostly about faithfulness and discipleship--worthy themes to preach to a church full of priests--but I wasn't really moved until I went up for Communion and passed through the choir while they sang some particularly lovely canticle (a setting of Ubi Caritas, I believe). At that moment, ascending the steps into the chancel and surrounded at once by the choir, the stain glass, so many clergy friends, and immanent Communion, I smiled and tilted my head back to drink it all in.
Then God pulled the rug out from my comfortable ego. By the time today was done I was made aware of several ways in which I failed people. Basically, several different people, in all love and charity, confronted me about some things I've failed to take care of recently. It's nothing that really hurts people or things in a major way, but it's just stuff where I let people down. I was expected to do certain things and I failed. I had to apologize and promise to do better. More than that, I was able to come up with some ways of correcting my behavior so that I should get a better result next time.
This kind of correction is hard. But, you know, we priest-types are always asking our people to accept loving criticism, and that's pretty hypocritical if we aren't willing to accept some ourselves. A senior priest told me a few months ago, "You need people to tell you when you are being an ass hole." So true.
The place where I really learned how to take criticism well was CPE. CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) is a training program for clergy that involves a combination of supervised pastoral care (in the form of chaplaincy) and what amount to group and individual therapy. One of the key experiences in this is learning how to criticize your peers and receive criticism in a healthy way. This is very, very difficult. But in CPE we spent literally hours and hours sitting in a circle listening to others criticize us. It's brutal. But if you survive, it's because you've developed a way to receive and process critique (and all the emotions that go with it).
Of course, some clergy would say that you should never admit to making mistakes in public unless you really must, because it undermines people's trust in your competence. But I think that's just baloney--if we can't repent openly, how is anyone else going to learn to do it? We are called to be models of the Christian life, after all, and that means continual amendment of life!
So now I need to get some cat litter and then work on a project due tomorrow morning that I have been procrastinating on. God help me, a sinner!
-t
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Preaching with Fire
A good day at church. I'm increasingly finding my stride as a preacher at COTM, and as a result I did much better this morning than the previous few times. I found a nice Holy Spirit groove and just worked that solidly. At peak intensity I was running about an 8 on the TMPIS (Tay Moss Preaching Intensity Scale). I connected the ideas around fire and being on fire with divine love with the history of the congregation (quite appropriate given this congregation's interest in the fire of June, 1976). One sweet lady told me that it was the best Dedication-day sermon she's heard in some thirty years of coming to Messiah. And she wasn't just saying that to flatter me. It's important as a preacher to let real compliments like that settle in to a mental file of such encouraging words--God knows most sermons go by without much meaningful feedback.
I'm also finding more confidence with the shape of the liturgy and changes I want to make. Advent seems like a great time to introduce some of those.
I have a wedding rehearsal this afternoon. Then I can go home and watch some football, I hope. But Betsy and some friends are going to the Pax Christi Concert this afternoon. I would go, of course, but can't because of this rehearsal.
-t
I'm also finding more confidence with the shape of the liturgy and changes I want to make. Advent seems like a great time to introduce some of those.
I have a wedding rehearsal this afternoon. Then I can go home and watch some football, I hope. But Betsy and some friends are going to the Pax Christi Concert this afternoon. I would go, of course, but can't because of this rehearsal.
-t
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