A Day in the Life....

I know some of the people who read this blog are interested in the occasional "Day in the Life" kinds of posts from parish priests, so keep reading if that appeals to you, but skip it if don't care, I won't mind! This what my day was like....

6.00am
Henry (3.5yo) came upstairs and Betsy pulled him into the bed between us. We all went back to sleep for a little longer. Betsy got up and went downstairs to work around 6.30. Henry and I kept sleeping.

7.15am
I woke up and took a shower. By the time I finished he was awake and asking to go downstairs. I took him off the bed (he doesn't like to slide off on his own) and he trotted down to Betsy's office in the basement.

7.45am
Henry was already mesmerized by Lego: Star Wars. Betsy was making him breakfast. I made myself a quick shake of milk, frozen mango, frozen strawberries, and honey. Not bad, but next time I'll put in a tad less honey.

8.00am
Biked to church (about 10 minutes away) and set up for the 8.30 Contemplative Eucharist. Put the chairs and some cushions in a circle.

8.30am
The Contemplative Eucharist begins. Seven people--which is a little higher than normal thanks to a guest. I felt that my Eucharistic Prayers, which I ad lib for this liturgy, were particularly poetic this time. I chalk it up to a good night's sleep the day before.

9.15am
Discussed the "Messiah Media" project with a co-conspirator. He and hash through several new scenarios for what shape the project might take. New plans are made. Ambitious, very cool plans that aren't ready to see the light of day just yet...

9.30am
A guest is ready to talk to me--I make coffee for us and then spend five minutes with the Parish Administrative Assistant before sitting down with him. We talk about the "Messiah Commons" project and some other things I'm working on at some length. He's a semi-retired minister with a lot of experience in church planting, missions, etc. I look to him as something of a mentor and am incredibly thankful to be able to bend his ear for an hour about some of the plans I have for Messiah. He gives some suggestions and ideas. At the end of our time he says a lovely prayer over me. We both walk away feeling inspired to redouble our efforts.

11.00am
The Administrative Assistant and I tackle and work through some problems around things like office supplies, throwing away files we no longer need to make space, and ordering light bulbs (all of which are far more complicated than you can imagine if you have never worked for either the government, church, or an educational institution). We are both pleased to be able to clean out space in the storage room.

12pm
My next meeting starts--this time with a possible co-conspirator in the whole New Media Evangelism/Messiah Media projects. we get to know where we are each coming from. He suggests ways in which he can be involved. We problem solve some issues the Diocese would like addressed (such as bettering communications between parishes and helping parishes adopt new communications methods). I appreciate that he has taken a two-hour lunch break from work to drive to meet with me.

1.30pm
I bike down to a pub on Church Street near Bloor to meet with my two-facilitators for the Fresh Start programme. Fresh Start is a two-year training project for clergy in transition into a new parish. They attend a monthly session which has a didactic component (a presentation, basically, about the subject like dealing with conflict in a congregation, negotiating role clarity, understanding parish finances, etc.) and a case-study component (where the group listens to a real-live issue happening to someone in the group and then discuss it. This is a year-end debrief. The three of us agree that Fresh Start is running really well right now and we love our group. We eventually move on to talk about Diocesan Politics, Toronto Politics, vacation plans, and so forth. A good working lunch.

2.30pm
I rush back (on the bike) to Messiah and do a one-hour counseling session with a parishioner. It goes well (obviously I can't say much more than that).

4pm
I rush home, get my sail bag assembled, kiss the wife, and then dash out of the door to my bike. I rode down to the waterfront and hopped onto a Tender (Ferry) to the QCYC Sailing Club for the weekly race. This evening it was just two of us. When I race with Stephen we have pretty much the same level of boating competence, so we "co-skipper." But Charles, who was the only member of the team available, is still learning so I ended up being the honest-to-God-and-only Skipper for my first race. It was really great. We even managed to beat a few boats (only one in our division... but I'll take it!). Even better was the fact that by the end of the race I had dialed in and was catching up to the rest of the fleet. During one particular leg I just focused very carefully on proper sail trim and helmsmanship and found that we were beating the two closest boats, which proves that this boat can be a winner if we sail her well. I can't wait to try again!

9.30pm
After "putting the boat to bed" I hopped on the next Tender back to the city-side and biked back up the hill to home. It's a 30 minute bike ride up a gentle incline. It's nice to notice that my "summer legs" are getting back into shape. Bike riding in the summer in Toronto is really one of the best ways to get around the city.

10pm
For supper I had some leftover duck and some grilled veggies that Betsy had made for Henry. Betsy and I had a brief chat, watched the end of an episode of Veep, and then headed off to bed. I came downstairs to my corner and wrote this!

A good, full day. I feel like I made yet more incremental progress in the grande project of turning around The Church of The Messiah. Both "Messiah Commons" and "Messiah Media" are really important to the future of the parish (particularly the former), and it's good to be able to sit with people more experienced than I talk through my plans and hear their feedback. The other meetings were important and good in their own ways, as well. But ending the day on the lake is always magical and deeply satisfying! Now it's off to bed!

Sermon: Pentecost 3

The stories of Elijah and Jesus resurrecting the dead sons of widows (1 Kings 17.8-16 and Luke 7.11-17) invite a troubling reflection: how do we respond to death, particularly the death of children? What do we say about it, as people of faith? I suggest that encountering the deeply troubling and bitter reality of death is necessary in order to embrace the fullness offered by resurrection and life everlasting.

At the beginning of this sermon I read this poem by Billy Collins:

The Dead

The dead are always looking down on us, they say.
while we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,
they are looking down through the glass bottom boats of heaven
as they row themselves slowly through eternity.

They watch the tops of our heads moving below on earth,
and when we lie down in a field or on a couch,
drugged perhaps by the hum of a long afternoon,
they think we are looking back at them,
which makes them lift their oars and fall silent
and wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.

Here is an animated version of the same poem, read by the author:


Toward the middle of the poem I quote this chunk from the essay "As a Door Nail" in Episcopal Cafe by Donald Schell:

It’s not some irreducible, barely glimpsed idealized essence of my dad that escaped and flew free from the fires of the crematorium. He’s gone, what remains is ash, is dead as a doornail. And the whole of him, the hands I marveled at as a kid when he played Rachmaninoff’s B minor prelude, the face that looked so much like mine and which, in the pictures I’ve got still teaches me to smile, the courageous heart that managed to squeeze almost eighty-seven years of living from a terrifying beginning as a preemie in 1921 and scarlet fever a few years later, the whole of that good man was, is, and will be held in God’s love. I don’t know what it means or looks like but I trust it - God’s initiative, God’s creative embrace that won’t let one vibration of one atom that was him out of the old/new whole of God’s making.

The Gospel writers are so determined that it’s God’s initiative that their preferred language for Jesus’ resurrection is that the Father “raised him up.”

The darkness, the abandonment, the devastation and decay and knowledge that we’re all just in remission and each of us alone faces a ‘moment of terror’ and ‘eternal dark’ must sink in, take hold, and be bitterly true. We’re none of us going to make out of this alive. None of us and nothing in us is any match for death. Nothing except the love of God. (source)

Talking about these passages on Saturday at the healing prayer service it was pretty clear to me that the grief evident in both passages is absolutely essential to understanding what God is up to. Attempts to ameliorate that pain by going immediately to the resurrection place--saying something like "he's in a better place"--shortcuts the process in an unhealthy way. Embracing the pain of death is the path toward Kingdom Wisdom. Jesus did it, and so should we. I know it sucks, but there it is.

This is not a sermon I particularly wanted to preach. I don't like thinking about my own death, much less the death of my little Henry. Nor do I wish to remember the deaths of children I saw when I worked in a hospital as a chaplain... but part of the discipline of preaching is accepting the responsibility of preaching the sermon the Holy Spirit gives you, not the one you want.

If you want preaching that is transformational (for the congregation and also yourself) you have to have the courage to go into some dark places in your own imagination. It's tough work. And I've preached many gut-wrenching sermons in the shower that never made it to the congregation. That's healthy, and part of the preaching life. But sometimes that gut wrenching material needs to find its way to the surface and today was such a day.

I'll just mention that the subjective experience of preaching a sermon this "heavy" was remarkable. People were riveted. They listened intensely, and the quality of the reflections and questions offered after the sermon in the "forum" time were top-notch and often quite personal. But after a while the congregation self-regulated all that hard material with some laughter and amusing stories. I've become experienced enough with my congregation that I am very confident that can process stuff like this and find a resolution and balance at the end.

Preaching about the death of children truly sucks--but you gotta go where the Word takes you. In the end I felt really good about this sermon, and it was a beautiful bookend to have the kids choir perform at the end of the service.

Sermon: Pentecost 2 2013

Here is my sermon from last Sunday, Pentecost 2, 2013. Bishop Yu was making his annual visitation, so I was thinking about how the Gospel for the day (Jesus healing the Centurion's Slave, Luke 7.1-10) could teach us about the Bishop-Parish relationship. Also on my mind were the brilliantly theatrical Elijah vs. 450 Prophets of Baal passage (1 Kings 18.20-39) and Paul's defensive-sounding opening in his Letter to the Galatians (Galatians 1.1-12).

By the way, Our awesome "Leader of the Readers" had assigned herself to the Elijah reading and decided to dramatize it. She didn't even feel the need to ask me, which is why she is so awesome.

After my sermon, during the response time, there were some really good reflections from people, but I don't feel it's appropriate for me to share those online at this point. Maybe some day. But this week they noted that basically sometimes we are the outsiders, and sometimes we are the insiders, and understanding which position we occupy in which context is important.

A visiting seminary professor paid me the great compliment of saying that our Liturgy of the Word (the first half of the service leading up to the Offertory) was more "robust" than a typical Anglican Church. He was particularly impressed with the quality of the readings, psalmody, and my responsive sermon. Certainly a richer engagement with the scriptural Word has been a priority of mine for the past two years or so.

So it was a very successful visit with the Bishop, and I think it reflected many of the best qualities of Messiah.

We Think About Charity The Wrong Way

This is a fantastic TED talk about the problems of our attitudes toward non-profits. I've known most of this for a long time, but it's pretty powerful to see the whole argument laid out. This is a huge problem for the church.

Meditation at Shale Beach

I recorded this last week when I was at Holy Cross. I had just finished meditating at the edge of the Hudson River and felt like sharing a bit of what that scene is like.

This is just too funny not to repost on my own blog. This was on Boing Boing. Flashbacks. Yikes.

Sermon: Trinity Sunday

Hyperbolic expressions of love, esoteric theologies of Trinity, a handful of water taken from the ocean: our very human need to grasp the un-graspable is part of the heart of the mystery of the Trinity. In it we find a lover's poem of what our people have learned about the divine after thousands of years. This sermon begins with part of the Opera "Einstein at the Beach" by Philip Glass. Many thanks to Fiona Ryan for improvising "Philip Glass-esque" music under that part of the sermon, a task I asked her to do mere moments before the liturgy began!

Preaching after doing a retreat is always great because you have a lot of fresh material, frankly. All that contemplation and meditation and prayer does wonders for your preaching-life!

Blessing "Knot Here"

We took advantage of the beautiful weather to say farewell to our friends the Robinson family as they go on a three-month sabbatical cruise on their boat, Dragonfly. They invited some of their friends to their sailing club, QCYC. This was also a good opportunity to bless the new boat, "Knot Here," who will be taking "Dragonfly's" place in Dave's slip at the club and racing. Before the blessing I took her out a little sail with Charles, Henry, and Betsy. She handles well and I enjoyed our little outing immensely. There is still a lot to learn with this boat, but it's coming quick. Henry managed to finally take a nap in cabin, which was terrific.

Back at the marina we blessed and renamed the boat using a liturgy that Dave and Heather developed for Peregrine (their previous boat) and used on Dragonfly. I believe parts of it are taken from the blessing ceremony used by the Canadian Navy, but I'm not certain about that. It's a touching liturgy that hits some nice notes.

Here is the leaflet created for the liturgy.


I'll be on retreat at Holy Cross starting tomorrow. Coming back Friday. A pretty ambitious trip--just like me to do things the hard way! Anyway, here is a picture of me and Betsy for your pleasure...

Time Off

This past week (since my last post) was supposed to be time off, but of course I find it difficult to disengage from the parish. There was a lot to do, still, at the church. I had to make the leaflet for Pentecost and I had a Corporation meeting and a few urgent e-mails and phone calls to deal with. Also urgent was getting the Kirby 23 (which we've decided to name "Knot Here" rather than "Redemption Song") up-to-snuff before Dave, our skipper, leaves on vacation. That required fixing a small leak, installing a bilge pump, and getting necessary safety gear, etc. It wasn't until Saturday that I was finally able to actually sail her for the first time.

It was "Sailpast," the day when the club officially kicks off the season with ceremonial salutes back and forth between boats and the Commodore of the Club. We "Dressed" both Dragonfly and Knot Here with colorful flags and had BBQ. I was managing Henry on my own, which was a bit of a challenge, but we did it. Here are two pictures to give a sense of what this was all like:

"Knot Here" Dressed for Sailpast

Henry enjoying the feeling of speed on the water

The first sail was exhilarating. Charles--one of my mates--and I took her out with Henry and Charles' friend Audrey. I've "driven" boats before, but this was the first time I've done so as the primary guy in charge (Charles doesn't have his boating license yet). I have to say that it was easier than I expected. Motoring was a piece of cake and then sailing was lovely. She's responsive and fun and I can't wait to take her out again! We are doing a re-naming and blessing ceremony on Victoria Day (tomorrow) so my plan is to go for a sail then.

One of my big questions about "Knot Here" is whether she could be single-handed. In mild to moderate conditions: yes, easily. Now, whether I could do that with Henry also on board is another question. What happens in the extremely unlikely event that I get knocked overboard, for example? If I am by myself and in Toronto Harbour it's a short swim to shore and hopefully the boat won't hit anybody before it runs aground. But it could be quite dangerous for Henry to be alone on board in that kind of situation. So for the time being I think I need a buddy to go with me, just in case.

Today we had brunch with some friends and then went to church at St. George the Martyr. It was a nice service and I had some nice chats afterwards. Then it was home for naps, a bit of gardening, playtime with Henry, and other tasks.

This week I am heading off to Holy Cross for a Tuesday-Friday retreat. It's going to be rich and wonderful and challenging, I'm sure. Not least because it means leaving Betsy with Henry and no car for four days!

-t

Sermon: Easter 7 2013 (Mother's Day)

These days my sermons are short and then followed by a period of reflection by the congregation. In this one I explored some of the issues around Mother's Day. I found the double image of freedom and release in the reading from Acts designated for the day (Acts 16.16-34) compelling. Partly inspired by the article "Why I Hated Mother's Day" (via Relevant Magazine) by Maria Gocke, along with this excellent, excellent sermon by Alyce M. McKenzie entitled "'M' is for the Many Things: A Sermon for Mother's Day", I tackled the ambiguous nature of Mother's Day head-on. Yes, mother's are great and deserve honour, but the way this festival is often promoted completely ignores and marginalizes people whose story doesn't look like something Normal Rockwell would have painted. It's tempting on a day like this to just go with the positive stuff, to talk about the "motherhood" of God, perhaps. Or maybe the Blessed Virgin Mary. Or the most important lessons I learned from my mother, etc. But a more honest (and rigorous) approach is to deal with the two sides of the issue and then shoot the gap between them.

Other influences on my preaching this morning included the Working Preacher website. I particularly liked this week's commentary on the Acts passage by Brian Peterson. I would like to tell you that I also read Feasting on the Word, but I didn't get around to it. I suppose I would have picked up FOTW if I hadn't already decided to go in the Mother's-Day-meets-Sunday direction. FOTW might have sharpened some of my tie-ins with the biblical material, but I had so much to work with already I didn't feel the need.

The other thing I would mention about my process this week would be the role of prayer. I was feeling very prayerful this morning as I thought about this sermon and then as I composed it. There was, as usual, the moment when all I had was thought about the passages and not even a glimmer of a sermon, yet. It's always terrifying to look at a blank screen or an empty piece of paper. So then I took a breath and prayed to the Holy Spirit, and she delivered as usual. The Holy Spirit has my homiletical back.

My practice is not to include the feedback time when I record these sermons. I want to respect people's privacy and maintain the very intimate, open, and trusting atmosphere of the forum time. Too bad, because much of the feedback today was excellent and highly engaging. Betsy, for example, pointed out that the founder of Mother's Day, Anna Jarvis, was distressed by how commercialized Mother's Day became even in her lifetime. Others pulled our time in other directions, including a heart felt reflection on the need to cultivate an attitude of gratitude. Great stuff. I loved the comment that one person made about how they studied the passages at home before Sunday! It's very hard to get that kind of engagement without having opportunities for feedback.

Amazing Human Tricks

Here is one of the video that makes you feel better about what kind of beauty is still possible in an otherwise snarky and cynical age. One simply wonders how long it took for Miyoko Shida Rigolo to learn how to do this. Note the absolute silence that envelopes the crowd toward the end. One reason we admire the work is because we recognize how hard it is to creat, which does raise the interesting question: what about art that we perceive (fairly or not) as being "easy" to make?

The "Orthos"

Orthodoxy: Right Belief
Orthopraxis: Right Practice
Orthopathy: Right feeling

Lately I've been noting how the standard evangelical emphasis on Orthodoxy as the way to faith makes me uncomfortable. I have colleagues who seem to think that the primary method to bring people to God is to educate them. As though if they knew more about Jesus, they would naturally want to follow Him. Thus, they spend a lot of time in a basically pedagogical mode: it's all about the teaching. Maybe; maybe not. Often the impact of teaching people about Jesus is that come to the conclusion that "Jesus was a really cool guy," but the essential claims that Christianity makes about his divinity or the implications of his death/resurrection fall flat.

I mean, why would someone want to be a Christian when they could be a Jedi? As long as we compete on historical or purely philosophical grounds we will conceding far too much ground. Yes, there are historical and philosophical claims being made by our faith (and ethical ones, for that matter), but there are lots of other perfectly reasonable belief systems out there grounded in good history and philosophy. So why would we want to fight in that particular ditch? Two possible alternatives are stake a claim in relational space or existential space. That is, "Become Christian because you are one of us" or "Become a Christian because the poetry of our faith resonates with the deepest chords of your soul."

This impulse to focus on pedagogy and orthodoxy comes from the other side of the lay-ordained dynamic as well: many people assume that the next step in their spiritual journey is a "Bible Study" and talk about their desire to know more about God. They tell me how much they admire this preacher or that one for teaching them something new. I've listened to some of these preachers and been frankly disappointed. A good example would be Bruxy Cavey, who often borders on being intellectually dishonest for the sake of clarity and homiletic impact. (Case-in-point: Listen to his preaching on Just War Theory and you'd think nothing had happened in theological ethics since Augustine).

I think that a more holistic approach is necessary, and that approaches that spend too much time on the "teaching" part are problematic because of the inherent materialism of such an approach. I'm sorry, but I don't think there is such a thing as "Five Biblical Principals for a Happier Life." Maybe being a faithful person means your life will be less happy! This version of Christianity gives an illusion of control and sometimes borders on Gnosticism. The worst excesses show up in something like the ridiculous "Prayer of Jabez" fad.

Even in the case of doctrines which are not false, getting people to intellectually assent to set a doctrines (no matter how true or insightful they might be) is rarely transformative. Consider the many people who gain great insight about their problems in therapy, and yet are unable to heal them! Right-belief is important, of course, but goes hand-in-hand with the other "Orthos": practice and feeling.

Here is a good example of what I mean. I commonly encounter people who come to church because they feel anxious, lonely, or otherwise in a state of existential distress. In my opinion and experience, there is much nothing you can teach them that will change that feeling. You can tell them about how God loves them and care for them. You can point to the various passages of scripture in which God tells us that worrying is pointless and un-holy. In all likelihood you are going to make things worse because now their presenting distress is compounded with guilt--"If I only really had faith in God's love for me, I wouldn't worry so much."

Now, check out a possible alternative. Here is Ian Mobsby from the Moot Community in London talking us through the "Welcome Prayer."


This is good stuff. And I've taught something very much like this technique for years. But it doesn't give an "answer" is just a practice designed to engage a feeling. But it is holy, right, and helpful. So how come I'm not seeing more of this kind of stuff among my Fresh Expressions/Church Planting/Evagelical friends?


-t