First Goat, a Fable

This is the story of First Goat. First Goat lived long ago in the before the before time. He lived there, just north of south and little east of west, with all the other first animals. There were First Dog, First Horse, First Elephant, First Chicken, and all the others. And they all got along. First Rabbit would go for walks with First Fox without any worries because First Rabbit knew that First Fox had a taste for broccoli and not rabbit stew. Even First Mosquito preferred fruit juice.

The world was new. It was so new not everything had happened. And not everything that had happened had happened completely. Things had not yet stuck in their final place. Sometimes the grass would start out green in the morning but turn to purple around noon. It usually turned green again before night – but even night sometimes came early and sometimes came late.
Sometimes the sun rose in the east, but sometimes it rose in the north. Things were still new. They had not stuck.

Some things were so new they had not happened yet at all. One day, the first rain fell. This surprised the first animals. But, they found it refreshing. They were dry, dusty, and dirty. They needed the first bath. As the rain fell on their noses and on their tongues, they became thirsty. The first puddle formed. The animals gathered around it. First Goat was surprised to see the reflection of the beautiful blue sky. The reflection was so clear, the puddle seemed to contain the whole sky.

Suddenly, First Goat remembered his thirst. Afraid the other animals might drink before he did, he pushed them out of the way, butting and kicking. He began to gulp furiously. But remember – everything had not yet stuck. Would you believe First Goat gulped so fast and so hard that he drank up the sky’s reflection right off the puddle? The glue hadn’t dried yet and it came unstuck. And now First Goat was full of the reflection of the sky.

Being full of sky, First Goat became very, very, very hungry. He began to eat and eat and eat. But he could not get full. After all, how can you fill the sky? He ate grass, he ate bark, he even ate bugs – but you can’t fill the sky with grass and bark and bugs. He even ate the wrapper of the first Twinkie – left on the ground by First Litterbug.

No matter what he ate, nothing could fill the emptiness. He tried distracting himself by singing and dancing and playing games with the other animals. But, he was still hungry and the empty sky inside would rumble and thunder. He tried to keep busy. He worked harder and longer. He built the first patio. Still he was hungry. He still contained the empty reflection of the sky.

And so have been all the goats that have come after First Goat. They still eat anything and everything. They still make noise all the time and keep moving, trying to satisfy the empty sky inside.

Humans are like First Goat. We experience a great emptiness, emptiness as big as the sky. We are full of the reflection, not of the sky, but of God. We are hungry – hungry for God. Like First Goat, we sometimes try desperately to fill that hunger with everything but God. We buy more and more stuff. We try to lose ourselves in work. We try to distract ourselves with play and entertainment. We move from place to place and from relationship to relationship. But we remain empty and restless.

As St. Augustine said, we are made for God and our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Our hearts are empty until they are filled with God. Try as we might to fill it with activity, things, or people, only God can fill our infinite emptiness. Activity, things, and people can distract us, can even numb us enough to forget the deep emptiness inside for a while. But they cannot fill us. They cannot satisfy. God created us for himself and God alone can satisfy us.

- The End -

Becoming People of Prayer

In God’s Companions, Sam Wells, Duke University chaplain, suggests that one thing we hope become is persons congregations whose prayer makes sense.

Wells writes that there are patterns of life that help us become people of prayer. These patterns of life parallel aspects of prayer itself – petition, wonder, confession, gratitude, and silence.

Becoming the kind of person who can make petition to God means becoming incarnate – in other words, we are prodded to discover more about the actual flesh and blood person being prayed for, possibly to get to know them and the particulars of their life, perhaps visit them. It also means acknowledging, in humility, that we are all vulnerable, needy, and unable to rely on ourselves alone. This leads to patience with others when their brokenness or shortcomings are evident.

In a community that knows how to make petition, we learn to make petition of one another, asking “how can I help” and asking for help when we need it. It means embracing our interdependence.

Becoming the kind of person who can wonder at the goodness and mystery of God also means cherishing the splendor of the creation and exulting in our own life as part of creation. It might mean spending time with children for whom the gift of joy and wonder are still fresh.

In a community that knows wonder, we share the wonder and mystery of our own lives – our joys and sorrows, our triumphs and disappointments. It means celebrating together and comforting one another.

Becoming the kind of person who can confess sin to God also means being open to acknowledging patterns in our lives that we would just as soon ignore or deny.

In a community that knows how to confess, members positively seek to discover the ways in which they have wronged one another, never being surprised that misunderstanding, disappointment, and hurt occur, but seeing each instance as a prelude to reconciliation. It means being willing to speak and hear the truth in love.

Becoming the kind of person who can give thanks to God also means paying attention to the goodness in our lives and in the world around us and relishing it. It means understanding our life as a gift to be received rather than a prize to be seized.

In a community that knows how to give thanks, members will carefully consider those things for which they want or need to thank one another and how best to do so genuinely.

Becoming the kind of person who can be silent before God means understanding time as a gift to be shared rather than a commodity to be saved or spent. It means remembering that our time is not really our own, but God’s. It means learning to be still and to listen. It also means learning to be still long enough to listen to one another – listening (and watching) for revelation.

In a community that knows how to be silent, we make space to be silent together and share the intimacy and vulnerability of letting go of the urgency to always find the right word or the right action and resting in nothing but the grace of God.

May our lives make sense of our prayer and our prayer make sense of our lives.

A Little Something for Valentine's Day

"It is the moral duty of lovers, as they certainly at moments know, to plunge with love into each other's life -- bringing power: power to resist temptation, to reject, to affirm, to purify, to pray."
- Charles Williams, The Figure of Beatrice, p. 204

Williams suggests that this duty is the business of Heaven.

Dance Me to the End of Love - The funniest videos clips are here

How Big is Your Church?

People sometimes ask me, "How big is your church?" Occasionally I get asked the size of the budget. I rarely get asked questions like:

How faithful is the church you serve?
How generous is your church?
Does it attend to the real problems in the surrounding community?
Does it love and support its children? It’s elderly?
Are strangers welcome?
Are the people there merely nice or do they love with costly, genuine love?
How prayerful is your church?
Does your church worship in spirit and in truth?
Are the members of your church gentle with one another?
Are the members of your church free to be honest? Genuine?
Is there room for brokenness and failure at your church?
Is forgiveness practiced at your church?
Is your church the kind of place that encourages you to believe in God?*

In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus offers the Beatitudes, which might also serve as useful standards by which to measure church.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Is this a church that is poor in spirit? Are people encouraged to let go of the illusion of self-sufficiency and to recognize their own neediness? Most especially their need of God, but also their need of one another?

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

Is this a place where mourning happens? Traditionally this has been understood to mean mourning for our own failure and sin. Is this church a place where we are encouraged to mourn our sin individually and corporately? Is repentance practiced? But, is this also a place where people are permitted to mourn the hurt, heartache, hardness of life? Or do we try to slap a smiley face on everything? Is this a place that mourns with those who mourn? Is this a place that mourns the very real suffering in the world around it? Does its mourning provoke action to address the suffering?

"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.”

Is this a church where meekness is encouraged? Gentleness? Is humility, modeled on the self-emptying love of Jesus Christ, typical here?

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”

Is this a congregation of people who hunger and thirst for righteousness? Is holiness encouraged and pursued? Is righteousness understood to be about right relationship with God and right relationship with others? Is this a community that knows what the LORD requires: to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”

Is this a church where mercy is practiced and received? Are we patient with one another? Do we bear one another’s burden? Do we bear the burden of one another? Do we practice the art of forgiveness?

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

Does this church encourage and cultivate such devotion to Christ that our hearts are aligned with his and that every decision is made with the intention of being drawn deeper into his heart?

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”

Is this a church that knows and lives the art of reconciliation? Do its members seek peace? Do they resist the society's indulgence in anger, resentment, and vengeance? Its fascination with "redemptive" violence? Do its members know themselves to be agents of God’s ministry of reconciliation in the world?

"Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

Though we live in a time and place where real persecution for righteousness' sake is unlikely, are people formed in this church such that they at least seem odd or peculiar to their neighbors because of the way they act, talk, and live? Are members encouraged to go against the flow? To question the status quo? To recognize that what passes for wisdom in this world is often foolishness in the light of God's wisdom?

And is this a church that is engaged with members of the body of Christ who are truly persecuted on Jesus’ account? Does it support and encourage those sister and brothers?

There are lots of ways to assess the health of a church. Most of them have little to do directly with the kinds of things that can be counted, weighed, or measured in the usual sense. Still, a church that is growing in the ways that matter is likely also to grow in the more conventionally measurable ways. Increasing attendance can be nothing more than ecclesial obesity or it can be a sign that the Holy Spirit is moving among the members of a church, birthing new life and drawing new people who desire to be a part of such a community and the resulting love, truth, and joy. A bigger budget doesn’t necessarily indicate spiritual health, but a growing budget can be a reflection a spirit of generosity, commitment, and thanksgiving.

Any church worth its salt of the earth and light of the world ought to be growing in tangible ways precisely because it is growing in the ways that really matter. Let us recommit ourselves to becoming more and more the kind of people and kind of church that can answer "yes" to the above questions. In many ways, the congregation of St. Barnabas does embody many of the above attributes. But, if that is true, we should be inviting everyone we know to come join us and welcome everyone who comes. We really ought not to hide this light under a bushel. But that is next week’s Gospel.

* This list is inspired by a similar one by my friend, the Rev. Steve Ellis, which he wrote for his parish newsletter several years ago.

Rowan Williams

In the wake of the recent Anglican Communion Primates meeting, Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, is being criticized as usual from both conservative and progressive absolutists. What representatives from both seem to want, and have wanted for some time, is for Rowan to either act like a pope (as long as he weighs in on their "side") or, in one way or another, concede to their "side" the moral and structural high ground. But, he does not have - and has been wary of assuming - the kind of authority some want him to exercise on behalf of their position. Rather he has tried to chart a course for the Anglican Communion acts in which constituent members behave as though they recognize the responsibilities of belonging to one another. Not hardline enough for conservatives who want things more narrowly defined and controlled, he is also not loose enough for progressives who seem determined to be bound to nothing but their own, often quite parochial, discernment.

I have not agreed with every move or statement Rowan Williams has made, but there is no one I would rather have serving as Archbishop of Canterbury at this time. Here is something I wrote some time ago that I think might explain why liberal/progressives in particular, but also conservatives, find him frustrating:

Many liberals/progressives have misunderstood Rowan Williams in that they assumed that he thought like them because he had argued for the possibility of rethinking the tradition in matters sexual and was not politically conservative. They were mistaken in at least three ways:

1. The fact that he has reached some conclusions similar to theirs does not mean he shares their Liberal Protestant theological convictions. Given his rather pointed critique of Jack Spong around the time of Lambeth '98, it was clear that his regard for traditional doctrine and discipline was more robust than that of theological liberals. He does not think inclusion as such is an adequate theological paradigm (though this has been mistakenly taken by some conservatives to mean that he believes gays and lesbians must cease being gay or lesbian to be welcome in the church).

It is possible that while he does think there is room for rethinking the traditional rejection of all homosexual behavior, he is put off by the liberal theology of that position's supporters in TEC. I suspect he has felt caught between those with whom he has more in common theologically and those with whom he shares certain social and political conclusions.

2. His catholicism is more than just a preference for a certain style of worship. As a catholic, he seems to believe that the truth is best discerned by the whole Church and is willing to live under that authority even when he seeks to make a case for rethinking certain particulars. The American church's unwillingness to live under that authority and, with patience and forbearance, seek to make a more convincing case and build a consensus is rather different. As a catholic, Williams thinks in terms of truth discerned and lived in community/communion more than generic or absolute principles (disconcerting to both liberal and conservative). And, unlike many liberals, Williams does not see the tradition of the church as a problem to be overcome, but a community in time to which we belong and with which it is possible to dialogue.

It is possible that he thinks the "uncatholic" way TEC has handled things has actually made making the case for rethinking the church's understanding of sexuality harder to get a hearing.

3. He does not seem to think that the case either for or against changing the Church's teaching (including the one he has attempted) is obvious or ironclad. He is thus prepared to listen to critiques of his own arguments and concede that those critiques have merit and must be taken seriously -- an attitude that is all too rare in our polarized context.

It is possible that he is frustrated by the attitude of complacent certitude of both liberals and conservatives - and has been bedeviled by the intransigence and absolutism of both.

As a Liberal Catholic in line with those like Charles Gore, Austin Farrer, and Michael Ramsey, Rowan Williams is too liberal for comfort among conservative Evangelicals and too catholic for comfort among Liberal Protestants. As such, perhaps he is, as much as anything, the heir of F. D. Maurice who in the 19th century critiqued the usual church factions and was seen as suspect by each of them as a result.

I remain an unabashed "Rowanian" and only wish there were more bishops like him in the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion.

ONE, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church

"We believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church" - Nicene Creed

Father, we pray your holy Catholic Church.
That we all might be one.
Book of Common Prayer, p. 387

Given the evident conflict and division, claiming to believe the Church is "one" might be one of the bigger stumbling blocks in the creed.

In his book, The Creed, Luke Timothy Johnson makes the point that the Church's vocation to be "holy" is sometimes in tension with its vocation to be "one" and "catholic". While the tension can be difficult and uncomfortable, in truth they are not separable.

Being a Christian is a matter of believing, becoming, and belonging. It’s the belonging part that modern Christians tend to miss, having drunk deeply from the well of individualism. Belonging to the Church is not a merely spiritual affection. It must be embodied. To be a Christian is not merely to adopt a set of beliefs or behaviors on our own. It is not about abstractions like faith or love or justice or peace or whatever. It is about embodying such things as a community.

Jesus' prayer that his followers be one is thus fundamental to what we are supposed to be as the new community living in his Spirit under the new covenant inaugurated in his death and resurrection. The Church is to be a sign and foretaste of the kingdom of God in which the wound of the Original Schism of sin and brokenness is fully healed. Schism – between humans and God, and humans and humans - is the original sin colorfully depicted as unfolding in the first 11 chapters of Genesis. It is that Schism that Jesus comes to heal. Or as Ephesians has it, it is the barriers and enmity of that schism that he breaks down.

I suggest a fundamental mission of the church is reflected in one of the prayers in the Marriage Rite in the Book of Common Prayer: "Make their life together a sign of Christ’s love to this sinful and broken world, that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair.” (BCP p. 429) Splitting the church is a counter-sign that undermines whatever aspect of the gospel it hopes to preserve/advance. The fact that the Church is already broken and in a state of schism does not justify further division, i.e., further false witness.

Schism can be provoked (by the zealous pursuit of holiness - or justice, or whatever reformation/revision someone thinks necessary) as well as pursued (by those who are convinced they - and God - are better served by separating from those with whom they disagree). We have seen plenty of both in the Episcopal Church and Anglican Communion over the last decade. Both are a participation in the Original Schism of sin.

Being bound to one another, actually learning to love – not the insipid sentimentalism that often goes by that name, but the love typified by the self-emptying way of the cross - is part of our witness to the world. It is hard - the Church is a school of love that is often a school of hard knocks – but it is the more excellent way. This includes speaking truth, offering and receiving correction, etc. It also includes trusting that the Church is the body of Christ and that its destiny, along with ours as members of it, is in God's hands. Part of what it means for the Church to be the light of the world is to actually be the community envisioned in Romans 12, Philippians 2, Ephesians 4, etc.

Thus, while it is encouraging that they have reiterated their commitment to the Anglican Communion, it is still disappointing that some primates are absenting themselves from this week's meeting in Dublin. But, it is also disappopinting that many in the Episcopal Church are so convinced that they know the mind of the Spirit that they are willing to pursue actions that most of the rest of the Anglican Communion has yet to be persuaded are faithful.

An Anglican Covenant makes sense, not because it will settle any given issue once and for all (it won't) but because it just might enable the Anglican Communion to live more fully into the vocation to be one, holy, catholic, and apostolic.

Here is something from Charles Gore reflecting on what some early church theologians had to say about schism.

I hope to write reflections on the Church's vocation to be holy, catholic, and apostolic in the future.

liberal donuts & conservative cupcakes

Neither liberal donuts with Jesus-glaze nor conservative cupcakes with Christian food-coloring should be confused with the Bread of Life which is challenge, comfort, and nourishment to all comers.

A lot of American Christians need to change their diet.