EVE OF PENTECOST --REDUX -- Still Waiting

Tomorrow is the Day of Pentecost. (Again)

The nave of Trinity Church is presently adorned with all manner of glorious red. The red will remind us of the vision of fiery tongues that appeared to rest atop the heads of Jesus' followers at the end of a ten day prayer meeting in an upper room that overlooked the crowded city streets of Jerusalem. Those streets were teeming with pilgrims from all over the known world, who were in town for a religious festival.

I wonder if we will see any fiery apparitions.

I wonder if we will hear any Good News that enlivens us with a passion for God.

I wonder if we will leave worship tomorrow with our souls singed by holy fire?
Or shattered by holy wind?
Does the Spirit have a Ghost of a chance?

I wrote the above sentences last year. Tomorrow will be the fifth Day of Pentecost since my arrival here. I'm still waiting for something (or Some One!) that will so "fire us up" that we won't be able to keep our mouths shut...that we will have to tell someone about the experience we had -- at church, no less! 

Hey, a priest can hope, can't he?

Come Holy Spirit! For God's sake (and ours)!

Jackson Kemper and Augustine of Canterbury -- Bishops on a Mission!

In 1835, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church decided that every member of the Church was a "missionary" -- and decreed that all members of the Church were concurrently members of "The Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society". (By the way, the name is still in use on the official documents of the Church!) The embodiment of this ideal of a church on a mission was Jackson Kemper, the man elected by General Convention to be a bishop in "the wilderness" of the then far western territories of the United States (Missouri and Indiana to be precise). Over the course of his ministry, Kemper also worked in the territories that eventually became the states of Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Nebraska and Kansas. He spent the last eleven years of his life as the first Bishop of Wisconsin.

But as innovative as the idea of a missionary bishop was for the 19th century Episcopal Church, it was nothing new in the broader scope of Church history. At the end of the sixth century, Pope Gregory sent a Benedictine monk to England to evangelize the Anglo-Saxons. What Gregory's missionary discovered, upon his arrival, was a variety and disparity of Christian practices that already existed in his mission field -- right alongside a number of other non-Christian religious practices. Eventually that monk, whose name was Augustine, was ordained to the episcopate and named "Archbishop of the English Nation". He is celebrated as the First Archbishop of Canterbury.

These two men -- separated by over 1200 years -- embodied an understanding of Church and the role of a bishop that I fear has been lost in our time. While I'm certain that there were administrative tasks demanding their attention, I find it difficult to believe that the perpetual care and feeding of the ecclesiastical machine was at the top of their priority lists. These two bishops were sent with similar mandates -- spread the Good News to those who have not heard it, baptize people into the Faith, and then teach them the Faith into which they had been baptized. Gather the Church and then shepherd it faithfully.

I've thought quite a bit about these two bishops over the past several days. I wonder how they would have reacted to the way church is "done" none among the majority of "mainliners". True, some things are changing. But the fact remains that we church folks seem to have penchant for occupying ourselves with ever-increasing numbers of meetings. Meetings where we talk so much about the mission of the Church we confuse talking about mission with actually doing mission. Sometimes we forget that God is already at work in the world and that we are called to participate in that work.

As a priest, I'm not too keen on giving bishops advice about how to be bishops -- that's someone else's job. But the missionary enterprises of Kemper and Augustine call me to examine my own work in the mission field that exists right outside of the big, red doors of Trinity Church. How in the world can the people of this parish -- people with real lives full of real concerns -- possibly catch a vision for participating in God's mission in the world if their priest is little more than a private, on-call chaplain or religious functionary who rarely (if ever) gets out of the confines of "the office"? How can I expect people to share the Gospel with their friends and neighbors in an authentic fashion if they don't see me leading the way?

Jesus once told his disciples to "Go into all the world..." (Matthew 28:19ff). Augustine left the familiar world of his monastery and traveled to what was then the wilds of England. Jackson Kemper wholeheartedly invested his heart and soul in people and places far from many of the comforts of his earlier life. Surely the least I can do is go into never-wilds of Wauwatosa and creatively spread a bit of the Good News of God in Christ! I'm fairly certain there are people here who need to hear it.

Lord God, in your providence Jackson Kemper was chosen first missionary bishop in this land, and by his arduous labor and travel congregations were established in scattered settlements of the West: Grant that the Church may always be faithful to its mission, and have the vision, courage, and perseverance to make known to all people the Good News of Jesus Christ; who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Dullness: The Path to Greatness?

Last week, I received a link to a recent op-ed piece from The New York Times by David Brooks. The article was entitled, "In Praise of Dullness". In it, Brooks summarizes the ongoing research in the field of organizational behavior, which seems to give witness to a counterintuitive truth: the best and most effective leaders aren't very charismatic or inspirational. In fact, the traits most evident in great corporate leaders are at the other end of the spectrum. The most successful CEO's (according to the research) are, "humble, diffident, relentless and a bit unidimensional. They are often not the most exciting people to be around." If you'd like to read the entire article, you can find it here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/19/opinion/19brooks.html?_r=2

Since this article was shared with a list-serve group (of mostly clergy-types), I've been interested to read their responses to Brooks' comments. Almost unanimously, the respondents have found this ode to dullness reassuring. Finally, we can let ourselves off the hook for not being inspirational or charismatic leaders. At last, we can relax in the knowledge that to do our work relentlessly with a careful attention to the details is probably enough.

And yet...I'm not sure we can draw such a clear parallel between the corporate business world and the corporate church one. In the business world, the goals are clear -- minimize overhead and expenses; maximize productivity and profit. In the world of the parish, the goals are a bit fuzzier and lots more difficult to measure.

As I read the Gospel story, much can be said of Jesus and his followers, but "dull" wouldn't necessarily come to the top of my list of adjectives to describe them. I keep hoping that those of us still attempting to follow the Way of Jesus won't confuse faithfulness with dullness. If we do make that mistake, then we ought not be surprised when fewer and fewer people want to walk the path of discipleship with us.

Ascension Day

Almighty God, whose blessed Son our Savior Jesus Christ ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things: Mercifully give us faith to perceive that, according to his promise, he abides with his Church on earth, even to the end of the ages; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen. (Collect for Ascension Day, Book of Common Prayer, page 226)

So where exactly did he go?

Today the Church calendar commemorates Jesus' "ascension". The story is recorded in the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. For forty days following the resurrection, the followers of Jesus experienced his physical presence -- apparently not on a daily basis, but enough to understand that he had been raised from the dead. The accounts of these post-resurrection encounters vary considerably, but clearly by the time the stories were written down the early church considered them to be credible and truthful witness to the events of the days after Jesus' very public death. In the story of the Ascension, after Jesus offers some final words, he is "taken up" beyond the disciples' sight.

Gone.

Somewhere.

And yet...

The Church has maintained through the ages that when "two or three" are gathered in Jesus' Name, he is "in the midst of them". Portions of the Church (including my own) claim that Jesus is "present" in some mystical fashion when the Bread and Wine of the Eucharist is consecrated.

Jesus isn't here.

But he is present, nonetheless.

In the place of authority ("at the right hand of the Father" according to the Creed).

And simultaneously visible in the margins of our world -- in the faces of the poor, the oppressed, the weary, the hungry, the outcasts.

The Church awaits and prays for his return "in glory to judge the living and the dead";

Even as we experience his presence while we work for justice, freedom and peace.

Gone.

Yet present.

But why would it be any other way?

After all he said, "I am with you always...even to the age of the ages."