On the Feast of Stephen

“When they heard this, they were furious and gnashed their teeth at him. But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. "Look," he said, "I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him. Meanwhile, the witnesses laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he fell on his knees and cried out, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." When he had said this, he fell asleep.” Acts of the Apostles 7:54-60


Stephen was a deacon in the early Church, called to aid the apostles when the rapid growth of the Church had made necessary additional administrators. St. Stephen was, unfortunately for him, the first martyr of many for the Church.

It seems a bit unusual that today of all days, the day after one of the most joyous of the year, we choose to remember and feast St. Stephen, someone who was murdered for the church. It would seem to fit better after Easter where it would serve as a nice parallel to the crucifixion, with the caveat that though we experience eternal life through Christ, he alone can conquer death. Instead we celebrate today; the day after a birth, mere moments after reflecting on the awe of a new birth and the joy of a Messiah come, a martyr who killed brutally.

This jerks us back to reality. This move in the calendar forces us back into the hardship of life after allowing us a day to celebrate. Though Christ has come, he has not come to cure all of our ills. His call to service is one fraught with risk. What this baby asks of us is not always going to be easy, and in fact it will rarely be so. We will be called to give up our jackets to those who have none, to welcome back those who have wronged us, to love the unlovable, heal the sick, sacrifice ourselves for others. Through Stephen, we must be reminded of the sacrifices Jesus made for us and recognize that, for most of us, we will have far less asked of us, and should offer our sacrifices joyfully.

And everyone, those called to make sacrifices both large and small should remember to do so as Stephen did, with their eyes and hearts turned to God and full of forgiveness.

"Bidden or Unbidden, God is Present" or "A Christian Defense of a Secular Christmas"

This winter, people across the country will gather together, exchange gifts, eat dinner with their families, and celebrate Christmas.

For a distressingly large portion of the population, this celebration will include no trip to any church, no reading of Luke, and no acknowledgment of the spiritual reason behind this holiday so near and dear to so many. They won’t hear a choir sing “Once in Royal David’s City” by candlelight. They won’t take communion with their family. They won’t have the good fortune of hearing a compelling message of peace on earth and the story of the birth of one who came to reconcile us to God.

It would seem that their Christmas would lack any presence of the Divine.

But bidden or unbidden, God is present.

There are those who say Happy Holidays to us, rather than Merry Christmas. Those who get a bit too into decorating the house with lights, or perhaps over-doing it with presents. Maybe they worry too much about having a massive spread on the table and are stressed about the looming credit card bills. They may seem to focus solely on the material aspects of this holiday.

But bidden or unbidden, God is present.


There has for several years, at least according to our friends at Fox News, a so-called “War on Christmas” has allegedly been raging. Legions of secularists have supposedly been shunning all spiritual associations of the holiday and have been returning to some form of modern Saturnalia. I haven’t noticed anything of the sort, but I’ll accept for arguments sake that they’re out there. These people who are “secularizing” Christmas are out shopping for presents and food to spend a special time with their families. While it may be true they do not intend to go to church or celebrate along side us as we welcome Jesus, are they not gathering in their own way with love in their midst?

And bidden or unbidden, God is present.


Around this time of year, it is not just devout Christians who increase their charitable donations. Many will give to Toys for Tots. The Salvation Army collects millions of dollars through their bell-ringers. People will gather with those they see only once a year and break bread together as a family. Good Cheer and generosity are commonplace. Tens of millions will give presents, living for the look of joy on the recipients face when just the right gift is given. People will gather together in an atmosphere of palpable love, a once a year ritual that offers comfort and joy.

And bidden or unbidden, God is present.


There are times of the church year that, while conducive to introspection and deep theological thought, can cause us to get caught up in the significance of worship and ritual and cause us to forget the importance of the presence of God in simple and everyday interactions. When a family gathers together and share their stories of the past year over dinner, laughing and loving, remembering those ties that bind them together, God, who is but love, is there. When a single mother who works two jobs plows through another 16 hour day to give her child the present he so desperately wants, God is there. When someone volunteers to distribute meals at the soup kitchen on Christmas Eve, God is there. When the troops in WWI stopped shooting at each other long enough to play a Christmas Eve soccer game, God was there.

It is easy to declare that the reason for the season is to have rears in the pews for an hour on Christmas Eve to sing carols and nod off through a sermon. It’s easy to demand that everyone say “Merry Christmas” rather than “Happy Holidays.” What is perhaps more difficult is to recognize the presence of God in these seemingly secular situations.

It is impossible to deny that at this time of year, people are more generous, more hopeful, more loving. Maybe it’s the scent of evergreen in houses, the presents people receive or the smiles that abound, but for a month people are happier. They more often think of others, serve more, and love more and for this I am especially grateful. Though this isn’t bumping up church attendance, it is showing people God's love, whether they know it or not. While many would condemn these rather secular celebrations as missing the point of the holiday, I am wonderfully happy that for a little while, people put the better angels of their nature on display, and can experience the presence and love of God, bidden or unbidden.

Second week of Advent

Advent is commonly known as the season for waiting. We commemorate the waiting of the Hebrews for their Messiah. We acknowledge our waiting for the second coming. We revel in the waiting for Christmas, and the joy and excitement that it brings.

Waiting, however, is generally no fun.

Waiting conjures images of one standing in line with a letter to be mailed at the post office, a deposit to be made at the bank, or God forbid, the interminable line to get your drivers license renewed. Waiting emphasizes our inability to do anything as we sit at the mercy of the worker or teller or clerk. In that aspect, waiting can offer us something. It does remind us that we do not have absolute control over what will come. Though it is good from time to time to be reminded of our powerlessness, waiting is too passive a term for this season.

When we welcome company into our home, we do not simply wait, we prepare. There are dishes to be washed, carpets to be vacuumed, pillows to be set out and food to be cooked. It is an active time, especially when the guest is an honored one. Though advent is often said to be a time to slow down, I think it would perhaps be better not to slow down, but rather to change our focus. As the world around us turns to more goods, more services, more consumption, we should be just as active, with our efforts towards bringing the Kingdom to earth. We are called to be even quicker to love, and to make even more haste to be kind. We should take more time to appreciate our family and friends, and to give thanks for all the blessings we have received. The way we best prepare for the Kingdom is to work to bring it about here on earth. And if we are truly praying for “Thy will to be done on earth as it is in heaven,” then we should be focusing our salvation in this life, rather than just using salvation as the carrot to the stick of eternal damnation

Unlike many denominations, we in the Episcopal Church seem to talk very little about “Salvation.” It seems a very icky and overly evangelical term to many of us, especially those who grew up in the South being asked about “their personal Lord and Savior” often enough to make even the Archbishop of Canterbury question whether there was a just and loving God. The connotations that come with that word are often uncomfortable enough to keep us from openly addressing it as an issue. This is something that needs to be addressed and the Advent season is the perfect time to do so. While we are spending our time preparing (not waiting!) we should be working towards making ourselves whole, and living more fully into the Great Commandment.

Loving our neighbors, and serving those less than us bring us closer to God, and thus closer to salvation, to wholeness of soul. Our goal needs to be to try our best to get it right today, here, now. It is a choice we have to make, to live into that relationship. We can’t just wait until we croak and then let God do all the work. We need to be doing our best to live and grow in that relationship here and now, today, not tomorrow or next week or next month. By working on the fullness of our relationship with God, and our relationships with each other, we do real work towards our wholeness and therefore our salvation. More importantly, it gives us a chance to prepare ourselves for the Kingdom, both in this life and the next. And that is what advent should be all about.

First Week of Advent

This years Advent could not have come at a better time for me. With the hectic holiday season, my regular vagabond status, and an exceptionally busy schedule of late, it has been easy to get caught up in the day to day minutia of life. Fortunately, this season calls us to quiet, introspection and waiting. For me personally, with one more campaign season right around the corner, which will in all likelihood be my last as a professional, it gives me a chance to center myself and remind me why I do what I do. It also is a reminder to me that the pitched political battles that we engage in trying to push our agenda require constant examination to make sure we are, as President Lincoln put it, on God’s side.

One of the readings for the third of December is from Matthew, and it consists of Jesus foretelling our attempts to enter the kingdom of heaven. He says,

“On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?” Then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.” Matthew 7:21-27

We all (hopefully) try to be moral people, but particularly at this time as we reflect on the coming celebration of the birth of Christ who was perfect, we must remember that we are all fallen. We are imperfect, and despite our best efforts we frequently find ourselves in rebellion from God’s will. We must be wary of proclaiming absolutes, else we find ourselves proclaiming our own wishes as divine wisdom. Today’s reading warns us that speaking in “Jesus’ name,” working in “Jesus’ name,” and issuing “litmus tests” as to who is Christian or has God on their side comes with a rather significant risk. We must keep in mind that as sure as we may be of what we may wish, we must always be open to the possibility that we may not be right, and our certainty in ruling the lives of others might, in the end, weigh heavy on us.

On the Execution of John Allen Muhammad

As I sit writing this, a man is about to be murdered. The killing is all but being shown on national television. It is being done with cheerleaders, and not a single dissenting voice. A Roman crowd, calling for an execution. I feel sick watching it.

At this moment, the drugs are, in all likelihood, coursing through the veins of John Allen Muhammed. The man, almost without doubt, committed heinous crimes, and is guilty of the unconscionable crime of taking another life. Now he is about to pay for it.

And we’re cutting to commercial: a commodification of human suffering and death, in a way more real and shameless than your average Tuesday news coverage. The irony is not lost on me that the first commercial is for China, perhaps the single largest human rights violator in the world.

As Muhammad is put to sleep, paralyzed and has his heart stopped, I can’t help but reflect, on the irony of the situation, apart from the China ads. We sit glued to the TV watching the talking heads, and all we see are voices calling for revenge, seeking their own personal gratification through killing. They say “justice” but they mean “vengence.” They seek to make themselves feel better through killing a man who is no longer a threat to anyone. They seek pleasure through killing. Is this not worse than feeling nothing at a death?

We wonder why the death penalty has such wide support here in the United States. We alone of the first world, as a society, murder our own citizens. And here on TV, we see why. The execution gets nothing but encouragement. One says Muhammad is going to shake hands with satan, one talks of how he wishes he could push the button, one says he wishes he could execute the seventeen year old child who also participated in the horror.

And we hold ourselves up as the “moral leader” of the world. Please.


At 9:11pm on November 10, 2009, John Allen Muhammad is pronounced dead. There were cheers from many. I am disgusted.





The greatest irony in all of this borders on the comical. Muhammad, the famed “Beltway Sniper” was trained in his art by the government who tried so hard to murder him.




Stepping out of my obvious staunch anti-murder belief, it would appear there are very few more fit to be put to death than John Allen Muhammad. He was guilty almost beyond conceivable doubt, and the crimes he committed were unconscionable. He felt no remorse for his crimes, or at least he claimed to feel nothing. He attacked at random, leaving not even the meanest justification for taking the lives of those he cut down. As many would say, he had it coming. And they will sleep well, knowing he has entered eternity.

Cases such as John Allen Muhammad’s will never be effectively used to convince people the death penalty is an expensive, ineffective, cruel and inhuman punishment. Cases such as that of Cameron Todd Willingham, an almost certainly innocent man executed in Texas for allegedly murdering his daughers (whom he lost in a fire) in spite of absolutely overwhelming evidence of evidence of true innocence, will always work. With an innocent man murdered in our name after a pathetic defense, and shameless political wrangling from the Governor attempting to cover his own political future by burying exculpatory evidence, it shows everything that is wrong with the Capital Punishment system in America. Willingham, however, has in death the sympathy of millions, and elicits uncomfortable feelings even in the staunchest death penalty advocates. Muhammad’s killing elicits a sense of sick pleasure.

One of those executions shows America as a misguided society trying to work, albeit slowly, towards justice.

One shows us at our worst, collectively relishing the act of killing.

I believe the latter reveals far more about who we are.



And it embarrasses me.

Tragedy and The Mountain

When I was a student at The University of the South, very little was worse than opening my student email account and seeing an email from Dean Pearigen with the title “Death Notice.” My class was particularly harshly inducted into this rite when one of our classmates, Philip Cole, was senselessly gunned down in Athens, Ga. Over the years, we would receive several more, though thankfully no more were students. Seeing that ambiguously titled email always caught my breath, accompanied by a sick feeling waiting for the email to open, always afraid it would be a friend, and knowing that our small community had lost a member.

Thursday morning, that feeling returned through a new medium. As I was walking to a lunch in downtown Raleigh, I checked twitter on my phone. I was greeted with a sickening message from @univofthesouth...

“University mourns students killed in early-morning accident, http://bit.ly/lfx37”

Though I graduated in ’07, I still have many friends on the Mountain, including my girlfriend’s little brother, whom I am quite close with, and indeed, strongly encouraged to attend our Alma Mater, and those feelings came rushing back. As I hurried to click the link, all I could think about was how awful things were and were going to be on The Mountain.

When I read the article, I immediately re-tweeted it and posted it on Facebook. I did that knowing that I had several followers who were Sewanee Alumni, and obviously many Facebook friends who were Alums that I knew would be interested. Like James Lum (C’ 09) who wrote eloquently on this event here, I was amazed by the rapidity with which the word spread among my friends, and at the sincerity of the outpouring of thoughts and prayers.

Lum wrote so well on that, I don’t feel there is much to add. What I have to offer is my take on why I, and perhaps others, feel so connected to the place.

Sewanee is small. It is small enough that it is possible to know in passing, if not well, nearly every person on campus. More than its size, however, what stands out most about it is its civility. We are, for the most part, kind to one another. We work together, we see each other frequently and we live together and socialize together. Even though we frequently comment on divisions within the school, they are minute when compared to those at most other universities. This familial feeling enables us to have an even more empathetic response when there is a great tragedy like the one we experienced last week. When something horrific happens, it is not just to a student attending the University we attended, but it’s one of our friends. No matter who they are, we remember someone from our time at Sewanee of whom they would remind us.

Sewanee is Arcadian. It’s tranquil idyll feels safe. Doors are unlocked, bikes are left unchained, and backpacks are left by the door. We attribute this to the honor code, but it is really more due to the feeling of community that permeates the place. There is a sense of safety, and comfort, a sense of protection and congregation, that I have yet to see anywhere else. This only serves to increase the shock when tragedy happens, but it also help to soften the blow as we all realize, even those of us no longer physically on the mountain, what a fantastic communion we share.

There are no words to adequately describe the hurt and pain the families of Katy Christianson and Kathleen Beach are going through. There is no way to describe the events other than tragic beyond measure. They were acutely felt by the entire Sewanee Community.

But therein lies our hope. If we are to try to truly live into a community that respects and values each member, if we are going to do our best to respect each person, and “do unto others” we have a great, albeit not perfect, example of that community on top of a Mountain in Tennessee. We have seen that in the reaction of the Sewanee diaspora to events on The Mountain time and time again. Those who have lived there recognize that and carry it with them. That is why Sewanee has been, and will forever be, home to me and to many others who have spent time there.


As I prepare to head up this weekend for Homecoming, to the place I love more than any other, it will be with something of a heavy heart. We, as a community, lost two of our own, and we all felt it, from whatever distance. But even that feeling of loss leaves me grateful that there is somewhere so special, so dearly loved, that so many with only a shared sense of place could feel so deeply this loss.

And I remember what my father, who has only visited Sewanee a few times, said upon learning of the events of last Thursday. They struck me as worth remembering, not only in hard times, but in those which are happier.

“Sewanee gets into the blood of ALL who go there whether for four years or four days.”

May Sewanee stay in our blood and in our hearts, good times and bad, and may it always remind us what is possible when brethren live and dwell together in unity.

Ecce Quam Bonum

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

Three points is three points is three points. Sometimes you have to tell yourself that.

After scraping out an ugly win against Trinidad and Tobago (Trinidad and Tobago! scraped out!) the US Men's National team is back at the top of the table for World Cup Qualifying. The ugly 0-1 victory almost wasn't after a couple of valiant efforts by TnT on the goal, helped along by a lackadaisical US defensive effort that looked more like something you'd see out of a U-12 rec team, with the obvious exception being the always impeccable Tim Howard.) After an embarrassing home loss to Mexico in the CONCACAF Gold Cup followed by another drubbing at Azteca in Mexico City, the US needed a statement win against the team at the bottom of the World Cup Qualifying table. Needless to say, they did not get it, instead confirming fears that the US is a spotty and inconsistent team capable of occasional brilliance. Regardless, they got the win and are again atop the hexagonal going into the final stretch.

With that in mind, we should take a look into the next two games which are also the last of the WCQ campaign. These results of these final games will determine whether or not the US makes it to South Africa for 2010. The first game is in Honduras, and against a team sitting on the cusp of their first World Cup Finals appearance since 1982, and their second ever. The US and Honduras have been frequent opponents over the last year, with the US winning every meeting. That being said, any trip the US Men take south of the Rio Grande has a high potential for trouble. Honduras is hungry, and with a World Cup berth on the line, our boys will have to bring their A-game. We have had a couple of scares with the Hondurans lately and they are not to be underestimated.

The last game of our qualifying campaign will be against Costa Rica at home. After a stunning 3-1 loss to CRC in San Jose, the US cannot afford to let up before the finish line here. With the table as it stands, Costa Rica is in the play of spot for the confederation, and though that may change with the next round of games. Having made the last two World Cup Finals, they will not want to start missing them now and will surely be loaded for bear.

So with two games left, the US is in a favorable position to qualify, but not a position without risk. With any luck, Bradley won't use these games to experiment with different players, or allow those who have not been producing to find their groove. It was a relief to finally see Brian Ching sitting on the bench for the last two game after an awful summer which he spent conspicuous only in his inability to produce chances. Though certainly a good player with his club, he has routinely fallen short on the world stage. Conversely, I would like to see more playing time from his fellow Dynamo player Stu Holden, who has quite possibly booked his own ticket to South Africa with his play this summer. Holden has been a force in the midfield, setting up many chances, showing a dangerous shot, and contributing significantly in the defensive third. Several others have also shown their chops (Feilhaber, Altidore, Davies, etc) while most of the old guard continues to impress (Donovan, Bocanegra, Howard, etc.) Things look good for the US qualifying, but the more important question is how. Will they scrape along doing just well enough to be respectable, or will we see the type of brilliant play that brought them to the finals of the Confederations cup and put them two goals ahead of Brazil. They have shown they are capable of stunning play, when it counts. Let hope they realize just how much it does over the next month.

Why I'm Episcopalian

I was recently asked a question by my friend and fellow Sewanee Alum Eric Wilson why should/would someone support the Episcopal Church. What follows is the first part of what will be, I hope, an interesting dialogue between us. I will post his responses, as well as mine for any who are interested to follow.

As for the Dearth of posts lately, it's been a rather hectic time at work. It does appear that my contract will be finished this weekend, and that the grant money is not there to keep the position going. Therefore, I will in all likelihood be much better about regularly posting. Also, with another big must win soccer game tomorrow for the US Men's National Team, Expect the next post to be on that. We didn't start Brian Ching last time and we not only scored goals, we won. Will Bill Bradley learn from his past mistakes? Will he again use the two most exciting American forwards since Joe Gaetjens? Find out tomorrow as the US Men take on Trinidad and Togabo on ESPN Classic.






Why I'm Episcopalian.


Today, I was asked a question I had admittedly not put enough deep and challenging though into.

“Why should someone want/would someone support The Episcopal Church?”

I offered up two answers. The first was this. “The [same] reason anyone should be in any church, because they discern a call to fulfill their baptismal vows in a certain church.” Though I could have worded it better, I believe that is a succinct stating of my belief. We are called by God to serve as the body of Christ on earth, and by that token, to not only be a member of the church, but to BE the church, one, holy catholic and apostolic. If this is indeed our general calling, it is up to us to discern where we are being called to live out our baptismal vows.

I believe any denomination in any religion is a flawed entity, I do not think The Episcopal Church, or any other sect can claim an absolute and final knowledge of God or of any divine plan for us, and therefore do not think there is by definition any “better” denomination. (I am exempting, of course, certain organizations that label themselves “churches” like Westboro Baptist et al.) I believe that one could be called to live out their faith in any number of churches, and that many faithfully live and serve across myriad denominations. Much as I feel called to serve in the Episcopal Church, I fully believe it is quite possible and indeed common to faithfully be just as Christian in the Catholic, Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, Church of Christ, or any other of the myriad denominations.

Accepting the view that faithful Christians can be members of any number of churches, he real question then has to be, why am I Episcopalian, and why do I believe that the Episcopal Church is a Church with something to offer.

The easy answer to that question is that I was baptized and raised in the Episcopal Church. That however is a cop out. Being raised in a denomination is no reason alone to stay within a certain Church. There is relevance, however, in the story of how my family came to be Episcopalian. With both parents raised Southern Baptist, and I myself being born into the Baptist church, under the “raised that way” reason we should all still be within that church. However, events happen and circumstances change.

While in the Baptist Church, there was an elderly man who was terminally ill and quickly dying of cancer. He had never been baptized and wanted to be so before he passed. Painfully sick, he was too frail to undergo the full immersion baptism required in the Baptist Church. After meeting for a short time, the leaders in the Church decided it was not possible to baptize him by sprinkling of water, and told him they would not be able to administer the Sacrament. The man died a short while later without the comfort of baptism. There are few things I have heard of that seem more antithetical to the teachings of Christ than the injustice that was visited upon him.

It was under these circumstances that we left, and after a bit of church shopping, we came to what is perhaps the polar opposite of the SBC in the Episcopal Church. Unlike our experiences at our past church, and true to their own motto, the Episcopal Church welcomed us.

Many criticize the Episcopal Church for being doctrinally weak, and excessively broad. It has been said that we have no backbone, or that we refuse to take a stand. This has at times been shamefully true. In the 1960s it took the horrific murder of a young, affluent, white Episcopal Seminarian who jumped in front of a black teenager and caught a shotgun blast to jar the church into helping those of different race. Conversely, we sometimes look to social justice to replace theology, which many argue is what is occurring in the current debate over monogamous gay clergy.

One reason I respect the Episcopal Church, however, is that it is out there, warts and all, to be seen by everyone. For the most part, there is an honesty, and a willingness to discuss and discern together and in the open that I feel many denominations lack. There is not an attempt to hide discussions, or to prevent debate. Rather, we attempt to engage in a dialogue and determine to which direction the Church is being called collectively. It is at times contentious, but rarely does it come to the point of schismatic departure. This is because of one of the other complaints against the church, it’s doctrinal weakness.

Where many see a doctrinal weakness, I see a strength. I have many friends in the church who are politically and often theologically opposed to my beliefs. Unlike many denominations, the Episcopal Church recognizes that we can read the same Bible, love and serve the same risen Christ, and still, faithfully come to differing conclusions. I feel that the church, rather than being weak, is strengthened by the differences in belief we hold. I firmly believe that the church is better for having all of those who disagree, however sharply with me. As Paul spoke of in his letter to the Corinthians


4Now the body is not made up of one part but of many. 15If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. 16And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," it would not for that reason cease to be part of the body. 17If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? 18But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. 19If they were all one part, where would the body be? 20As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

1 Corinth, 12:14-200

I believe that that body works best when all parts are involved, and I believe a broad tolerance, whether high church or low church, conservative or liberal, cradle or convert, helps to grow the body. With that range, we help to balance each other out, and offer us a broader understanding of our call as a denomination to serve God, through Christ.


Having addressed in broad strokes why one should (and I do) support the Episcopal Church, I’d like to get briefly into why I personally feel so called to support, be a member of, and work for the Episcopal Church.

I believe that the most important verse of the Bible is this, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. The second is like it, you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”(Matt 22:36-40”

There are generally two main ways of looking at the rest of the Bible through that statement. Many people say that you are loving your neighbor by directing them towards all of the commandments and laws laid out by the rest of the Bible. Many others interpret that as meaning that the Law and the Prophets must be interpreted through the lens of that statement. That primarily you are to love God and love your neighbor, and that all other rules are guidelines to aid in the execution of those commissions. I fall squarely into the second group. I believe that first and foremost, the God we serve is Love (1 John 4:8), and that the best way to love and serve God is to serve our neighbors. Though the trap of substituting social justice for theology can certainly go overboard, I think that to an extent, working for social justice, is one way of serving God. I believe that the focus on those ministries in the Episcopal Church is something that has always appealed to me. My thoughts on this will certainly be fleshed out over the course of our dialogue

Lastly, though I certainly have issues with the Episcopal Church from time to time, I feel that a true calling must be a call to something rather than just a discomfort with where one is. I believe that there have been many who have been called away from the Episcopal Church, as well as many who have been called to it. However, I do not believe that one should up and leave over any disagreement. Since I feel I have been called to the Church for now, it will take me feeling and discerning a call TO somewhere else, rather than just a discomfort with the church to move me elsewhere.

All of that being said, I still maintain that if one does not feel or discern a call to the Episcopal Church, they should perhaps look elsewhere. This is not to say we would not love to have them, but if God is calling someone to serve his church in another denomination, it would be folly to try to stand in his way. And after 1,600 words, I find myself back at my original statement. The reason someone should support the Episcopal Church is because they feel and discern a call from God that they should live out their Baptismal vows in the Episcopal Church.


Having written that, I feel it falls pathetically short, and fails to cover much of what I feel and believe. Hopefully, some of it will work its way into our discussion.

On the Death of Ted Kennedy

The night of April 4th 1968, riots raged across many, if not most, major metropolitan areas of the United States. Martin Luther King Jr. had been murdered in Memphis, and tensions finally reached their breaking point. Everywhere, that is, but Indianapolis. That night, Robert Kennedy spoke to a crowd, mostly black, that was expecting a political speech. Instead, he had to give the news that the standard bearer for the civil rights movement, the man who was going to lead blacks out of oppression and bring them as full members into society, had been shot and was dead. His extemporaneously given speech conveyed his empathy to the crowd, reminding them that he had also lost a family member to a white assassin’s bullet. He knew their pain, and he mourned with them. He called for love, forgiveness and understanding, and for that night, the cycle of violence was broken.

It was, perhaps, the most impressive speech a Kennedy has ever given. An amazing demonstration of the victory of love and forgiveness over vengeance and anger. An inspiration to all who work to combat hate, prejudice, and oppression. Proof that sometimes, just sometimes, the good guys can win.

That night showed what one man could do. It showed that reason and cooler heads could prevail. It showed what was right with America. It was one of the tiny ripples of hope that Bobby talked about. The ones crossing each other to build a current that would help sweep down the walls of oppression. It was a remarkable thing.

Two months later in another city was another gun, another assassin, and another slain leader. Bobby Kennedy also fell. The political history of our country is a shamefully bloody one. Many have been killed, and there is rarely anything positive, any consolation we can take from the event. Fortunately for Bobby, there was one, if only this: perhaps the second greatest speech given by a Kennedy, Teddy’s eulogy of the third brother he had lost too young.

He quoted liberally from Bobby’s speeches. He spoke on love; what it meant to him, what it meant to his brothers, why it’s important. He spoke to our aspirations, and our future, reminding us that even the most incremental change comes with challenge and danger. He told us why its important to strive continually for improvement, both of ourselves and of our nation. Perhaps most importantly, he laid out, in barest terms, what it means to be a good public servant, or for that matter a good Christian.

“My brother need not be idealized, or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life; to be remembered simply as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it.”

I know of no higher praise one could give.

Teddy, the last of his brothers, spent the rest of his life living his brothers’ legacy. Though by no means a perfect man (particularly in his personal life), none of them, and surely none of us are. As a public servant, he carried himself with dignity, and when he saw wrong he tried to right it, when he saw suffering he tried to heal it, and when he saw war he tried to stop it.

While his brothers were all taken at very young ages, their meteoric lives and tragic deaths cementing them in the collective psyche, Teddy toiled on after them. Though they had but a little time to create those ripples of hope, Teddy’s years in the senate enabled him to help build the tide that would sweep away much of the injustice of racism, sexism and socio-economic discrimination. He wrote the Americans with Disabilities Act, the Family and Medical Leave act, and created COBRA, to ensure those who lose their job have an opportunity to keep their health insurance. He helped raise the minimum wage, and was a constant opponent of discrimination in any form. He opposed the Iraq war, calling it the most important vote he ever made and his early endorsement helped propel Barack Obama to the nomination, an election night victory, and to his swearing in as the 44th President of the United States, when we as a nation showed that though much work remains, it is possible for anyone, regardless of the color of their skin, to rise to the highest office in the land.

Though he would be the first to admit he was not a deeply flawed person, he was a fantastic legislator, and when he went to vote, his mind was on those who are the least in society; those without a voice, without an advocate, and without protection. There are very few today who serve with that as their chief goal. The nature of politics and fundraising dictates that certain interest groups have sway over a politician. With his seat, Ted rarely had to worry about a challenger, he rarely had to worry about big business, and he could always beat his corporate opponents. He was free to carry on his family’s legacy. He knew that much had been given and that much was expected, and he worked tirelessly to repay the blessings he had recieved.

It will be impossible to miss his presence in the senate in the coming years as we debate wars, safety nets, and health-care, his signature issue. His loud voice for the voiceless will be sorely missed by all who needed him. As the last public figure of his generation, he carried the legacy of his family, shaping and molding its image, and keeping the issues that were important to him and his brothers in the forefront.

With the last of the Kennedy Brothers returned to the dust, all that is left is to eulogize them. I can think of no better way to remember them than Teddy’s own words..

They were good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it.

May we forever remember the sacrifices they made for us, and the good they did.

Thoughts on St. Lawrence and the debates of the day.

August 10th is my birthday, which happens to coincide with the Feast of St. Lawrence of Rome, Deacon and Martyr. While following @liturgy on twitter, I saw a link to his story and was profoundly moved by his actions. Working in politics, I appreciated the perspective we so frequently are missing that was offered by his tale. As his story hung with me for days, I felt the need to write something. I, like many others, needed a reminder of what service is and realized it was time for everyone, myself included, to take a step back from the debate we're having and remind ourselves of the need for civil discussion, and to never forget what a lasting mark a bit of well timed good humor can make.

I apologize for the length, I assure you most posts will be significantly shorter than this.

On St. Lawrence...


In these days of considerable tension, we see both a Church and a Nation torn apart by dogmatism, fundamentalism, ethnic strife, and theological and political disagreement. We hear pejorative words thrown around in the news constantly: socialism, communism, disingenuous, fundamentalist, deathers, lunatic fringe, and so on. We hear a somewhat more civil, thoughtful, and honest though no less contentious debate raging throughout the Church. It is moments like these that can make one wonder whatever happened to that bit of Matthew: “Blessed are the Peacemakers...” That part seems to have been often overlooked of late.

Though the subjects are valid for earnest and honest debate, for the most part they have been boiled down to their basest parts. Once a debate degenerates into talking points, there is no real listening. Some view this as obstinacy on the view of the participants, but who can blame them? When I was younger we had a radio station change formats, and for 24 hours straight, while sorting out their library, they played Prince’s “Party like it’s 1999.” After a few minutes in the car, we realized that we had listened to the song several times. The same thing repeated over and over very quickly became background noise. We already knew what was being said, there was no need to listen.

Unfortunately our current debate is about as interesting as a song on repeat. “Grandma Killers!” “Lunatic Fringe!” Though a decent band name, listening to that on repeat is neither productive nor useful. These are also most certainly not words that build up.
Likewise in the Church, we have a debate raging one that would appear more civil, but is impassioned nonetheless. As we debate full inclusion of those who lead, to use the sanitized term, “Alternative Lifestyles” one would think that the very existence of the Church as an institution is at risk. Without trying to over-trivialize the faithfully held positions of each side, if I did not find it so sad, I would probably find funny the thought that an institution that outlived the Roman Empire, survived crusades, wars, invasions, the Black Death, repeatedly proven scientific contradictions to fundamental dogma, and has operated over the span of three millennia could be destroyed by a member’s or clergy’s choice of partner.

It speaks to the quality of life we lead these days that our concerns are on sexuality. We no longer have to worry about many of the things that enable our very existence. Though the hungry and poor are still with us, we no longer are scrapping from meal to meal, or hoping that the winter is not so long as to starve us. Though our health-care system is far from perfect, we can cure basic diseases. Though our government has its flaws, we are free to speak our mind, and practice our religion in a way very few of our ancestors could. These luxuries were not around in Rome in 258.

During the reign of Valarian, Christians were persecuted, tortured and executed with frightening regularity. As Bishop of Rome, Sixtus II was an obvious target. His deacons, were also obvious targets. One in particular was more valuable to Valerian than the rest. As his longtime teacher and soon to be martyred Bishop was being led to his death, Lawrence followed behind calling after him. “Where are you going, my dear father, without your son? Where are you hurrying off to, holy priest, without your deacon?” Lawrence was still alive because he was in charge of administrating the Church’s goods. The Prefect of Rome gave him three days to gather all the treasures of the Church and present them to the prefecture.
For three days Lawrence scrambled frantically around Rome, collecting the jewels, money, food, holdings and other goods of the church. As soon as he could find them, they were distributed them to the poor, the sick, the elderly, the widowed, the infirm, the blind, the mute and any others who had need. He assembled a delegation of these to go with him to the prefect in three days time.

As the morning arrived, St. Lawrence reported dutifully to the Prefect of Rome with his delegation. When asked for the treasures of the Church, Lawrence held out his arms, presenting those behind him. Those rejected by society. Those in need. Those with nothing. Those whom the prefect would not notice if he were alone in a room with them.
“These” said Lawrence, “these are the treasures of the Church. And the Church is truly rich, far richer than your Emperor.”



Those were the fights of Lawrence’s day. We talk of an existential fight over the soul of the church. We talk of Schism. We talk as if our very earthly existence is at stake, and yet, none of us face the executioner for our beliefs. Lawrence, as he was being roasted alive on a gridiron for his faith turned to his executioners, and said, “Turn me over and have a bite. This side’s done!” earning him a spot as the patron saint of comedians, no less. Lawrence found joy in his sacrifice. Our calender is full of martyrs and confessors. Full of leaders and idealists. We venerate these people. We hold them up as paragons of decency. We aim to join their communion. Why do we seem so loath to do more than say so?

If Lawrence could find humor even in his martyrdom, surely we can soften our tempers with a joke. If Lawrence had the courage to show the prefect what was truly valuable, surely we can take a look at those who would be affected by legislation and hear their story. If Lawrence can exemplify the sacrifices that our faith can require, surely we can sacrifice a tiny fraction of that to ensure the poor are properly cared for. If Lawrence could make a sacrifice of his life to protect the Church, surely we can sacrifice our obstinacy to hear and tolerate the views of others, accepting that though we are not always of one mind, we are of one body. As John Says in the reading for St. Lawrence’s Feast,

“You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me, yet you refuse to come to me that you may have life (John 5.39:40).”

In another reading for the day Paul tells us that those who rely on The Law are cursed, for no one can follow them perfectly. It is through our faith in Jesus, that we are saved. It is his example that we should follow, knowing that we will fall short, and knowing that it is only through him we are yanked from the grips of fear, anger, selfishness and death.

We should follow the example set for us by St. Lawrence and aim to serve each other, as we are all spiritually poor having fallen short of the law, rather than seeking enforce the law on others. “Use every man after his desert, and who shall 'scape whipping?” wrote Shakespeare. “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” writes Paul. It is both a religious and secular truth.

In spite of this, we continue to put ourselves on a pedestal. Though there is no crime in trying to better the world, advance your belief or push an agenda, we must also remind ourselves of the cost of pride. We are prone to accept that as our beliefs are right, and our opponent’s are wrong, and beyond that that we are right and they, as people, are of less value due to their differing beliefs. It is at times like these, when we reach the fever pitch of debate, as the pot begins to boil over, as the match hovers over the fuse, that we must remember what and who really matter. Winning a debate may be satisfying, but that is not a service. The discussions we are having regarding sexuality and the Church, and regarding the nations health insurance system are important, consequential things. They should be treated with the appropriate amount of seriousness. What we should remember as we start in on a rant, or try to tear down an opponent, especially one who is attempting to tear down us is this.

When given the opportunity to buy his life with the wealth of the church, Lawrence did not. He instead followed the example set for him. He gave everything to the weak and then declared that it was not the vestments, not the jewels, not the silver or gold and not the land that was important, but the least among us who are the treasures of the church. It would seem in this day and age, that we could all use a reminder of this, and try to follow his example.

Here we are!

Though new to the world of blogging, I will try to keep this interesting and on topic as best as possible. A personal complaint of mine about the blogging world is a lack of substance. Long or short I will try to make sure my posts are substantial. Some will be longer than others. Feedback is welcomed and I hope to encourage thought and on occasion discussion. And so, it is time to give it a whirl.