A New Place, A New Chapter.

A week ago today I moved onto the campus of the Protestant Episcopal Theological Seminary in Virginia, more commonly known as Virginia Theological Seminary or VTS.   Founded in 1823 it is the largest Seminary in the Episcopal Church.  It is located in beautiful Alexandria, Virginia, and is on a magnificent campus adjacent to that of Episcopal High School, located together in the shadow of downtown Washington, DC.

But while I could tell you facts and figures all day about the school that would tell you nothing about the fantastic community that is found here.

From the moment I moved in and had several folks offer to help me move my stuff in the August heat, to this evening, where a few of us held compline in a dorm common room and celebrated one of my classmate's birthday, my time here has been one instance of welcome followed by another.  Indeed, it's remarkable how close our class has become after only one week together.  Birthdays are celebrated, help is offered, invitations are extended and company is enjoyed.

When I consider that fellowship, think on how interesting my first classes have been, and ponder the tasks ahead of me in the coming semester the prevailing thought I have is "I can't believe how lucky I am to have three years ahead of me in this place."

Times will change: classes will get harder, pastoral ministry will stress, strain will develop, difficulties will emerge, and there will undoubtedly be people that I at times "love to death bless his heart," but knowing that these difficulties lie ahead, I know just as much how fortunate and how blessed we as a class are that we will be facing them together.  

I will aim to keep this blog better updated as this journey starts, blocking out time to write and keep, friends, family, fellow parishoners at St. Andrew's, and whoever else decides they'd like to read my writing updated.  So check back, comment, ask questions, let me know if there's something you'd like me to talk about or cover and I'll aim to let you know what I'm doing, what I'm learning, and hopefully to occasionally provide you with media of the music and liturgy that helps keep me going up here.

Looking forward to the journey!

Peace.

Day 6: The Episcopal Diocese of East Carolina

When I was about 5 years old I was baptised at St. Anne's Episcopal Church in the Diocese of East Carolina at the Great Vigil of Easter.  This was a fortuitous first step of the many I would take in the Diocese.  I could (and have) written at some length about my relationship with the Diocese of East Carolina, but I'm going to leave a good portion of that for another day, as I'm sure my thanks for the diocese can span well more than two or three days, but I will speak primarily about my thanks for what it has done over the last couple of years. 

As anyone who's taken the time to read the bio on the right side of the page knows, I'm a Postulant for Holy Orders (Priesthood) from the Diocese, which means that Dio. E. Carolina and it's Bishop Clifton Daniel III have approved sending me to seminary.  As you can imagine, the process to be entered as a postulant is not a short one and involves approval by several individuals and committees as well as physical and mental evaluations.  The full process to be made a postulant can take upwards of two years (as it did in my case) and once granted ties you to a Diocese through three years of Seminary and two years of ordained ministry in the Diocese, so being comfortable with where you are is extremely important. 

I actually began the discernment process in 2008 in the Diocese of North Carolina where I was working at the time.  While still spending my required year at a parish before the calling of a discernment committee I had to move for work reasons.  I had the great fortune of winding up back in the Diocese of East Carolina where I had been raised.  

After attending the 2009 Diocesan convention, I was able to meet up with many people I had not seen in years, all of whom were exceptionally supportive.  After joining St. Andrew's on the Sound, starting the process over and working my way through my rector, my parish, the commission on ministry, and the Bishop, I could not be happier to be a postulant through this diocese.  It has given me more than I could ever have expected or asked for, and I'm ecstatic that I will spend the next chapter of my life working with and for such an exceptional entity.  

30 Days of Thanks: Day 4

Day 4

In memoriam: The life and service of Elizabeth Edwards

Last year we passed a landmark health insurance reform bill through an unwilling congress and it was signed by the President to mark the most significant change to health insurance of the last forty years.  While the bill was far from perfect and lacked the public option many wanted It was a remarkable accomplishment.  I'm not going to refight the process or the battles over the details of the bill; the important thing is that the bill passed and it's currently benefitting millions of Americans, myself included.  More than Nancy Pelosi, more than Harry Reid, more even than Barack Obama, the person who is responsible for this bill is Elizabeth Edwards. 

I had the honor of working on the Edwards for President staff in the 08 election, and was located at various times both in the Chapel Hill national HQ and in New Hampshire.  I met Elizabeth a few times, and she was a wonderful person; the kind of person who stops and talks to every volunteer in the office to thank them for everything they're doing.  Through and through a decent human being. 

More importantly than her kindness to the least of those in the office was the good she did nationwide.  It may be hard to remember now, but in 2007, no one wanted to talk about health care.  It was a quiet crisis developing that anyone paying attention knew was going to destroy the economy and cost millions of lives if left unattended.  Even so it was not a politically popular topic.  We were in the midst of two wars, a torture debate, outing of CIA agents and the like.  Health care reform was not on many people's minds.  Not many people aside from Elizabeth Edwards, and as a result John Edwards. 

John Edwards was at the time running in third place behind the Hillary Clinton juggernaut and the Barack Obama wave.  He needed to do something to distinguish himself, and this issue was a good way to do it.  It didn't hurt that he and Elizabeth had first hand encounters with the system after fighting Elizabeth's first round of cancer.  On this issue however, John used the bully pulpit of the campaign, and hammered constantly on the impending threat to our society that heath insurance companies were causing.  He pushed other candidates to talk about it and to establish positions, and by the end of primary season, healthcare reform was the second most important issue on voters minds behind.  Eventually it became so ingrained in the mindset of the campaign that public opinion began to shift and people began to call for something to be done.  

None of this would have happened without Elizabeth, pushing hard both publicly and behind the scenes to make sure the campaign drilled in the issue, health care, health care, health care, health care.  Her persistence and drive helped shape the national consciousness to the point that over the desires of the Chamber of Commerce, powerful health insurers and hundreds of millions of dollars spent against it would do little more than turn it into an imperfect form of major overhaul.  

This alone would be significant, but it merely stands alongside the other significant issues she (or she and John) stood almost alone in promoting to the public, most notably poverty, another pressing and often ignored issue that she and John tirelessly advocated.  This fit well with her personality as I experienced it, constantly reaching out to those who are not important, those who are on the margins, and those who toil, for the most part, thanklessly. 

So today, I am thankful for and I am remembering the life and work of Elizabeth Edwards, a decent and hardworking woman, tirelessly striving to improve the lives of those who needed help.  She was someone who did not mock the useful toil, nor hear with a disdainful smile the short and simple annals of the poor.  She and her service will be greatly missed.  May the peace of God be upon her. 

Give rest, O Christ, to thy servant with thy saints, where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting. -Book of Common Prayer, 499 

  

Convention Wrap Up

I am now safely ensconced back home with a cup of tea and I'm beginning the work of mentally processing the results and events of convention. Some, like most of the resolutions and the changes to constitution and canons are pretty straight forward; some, like our resolutions regarding human sexuality, the death penalty, our relationship with the Anglican Communion and especially, the viewing of the movie "Traces of the Trade were a bit more complex, to say the least.

Traces of the Trade is, as I mentioned in an earlier post, a documentary about the descendants of the largest slave trader in United States history. The film attempts to address the continuing and incredible impact slavery has on us to this day. It is an uncomfortable film to watch, especially in a room full of folks who are overwhelming white and affluent. The film is massively ambitious, and though it can be easy to ignore the difficult lessons of the film, facing full on the horror of our history and the incomprehensible things whites did to slaves is embarrassing at some times and outright overwhelming at others. I can only say that it made even me, a progressive political warrior who has worked relatively extensively in black communities and for minority causes to totally reconsider my stance on race and racial politics in our country. Take that for what you will. I would recommend it to anyone and everyone.

As far as the Resolutions went, almost nothing surprising happened. The closest to an exception was a resolution calling on our Diocese to spend more energy opposing the death penalty. I participated in the Resolutions breakout session discussion on this resolution and felt very confident in its chances after hearing that debate. The room seemed to be (almost) of one mind in support of the resolution and, in fact, called on more than one occasion to strengthen the resolution in some ways so it was unambiguous that we were addressing the moral issue rather than any peripheral issues. However, when we came to a vote on this it was the only resolution that required a vote by show of hands (rather than a simple voice vote.) I am immensely relieved that the resolution passed, but was saddened that it was as close as it was (I'd say 60-40 from where I was sitting.) My only real regret of the whole convention, especially considering the relative tightness of the vote, is that I did not rise and speak in support of the resolution. This is one area I feel the Bible is unequivocal and plain. Presented with someone rightly sentenced under the law to capital punishment, Jesus stepped between her and her executors and prevented the stoning from happening (John 8:1-11). We are also told "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord" (Rom. 12:19 KJV.) This totally leaves out that little one from the Ten Commandments "Thou shall not kill." I don't know how much plainer we can be shown our duty specific issue, and it frustrates me that so many Christians still think that a well-thought out, sadistically planned, and precisely carried out killing of any person is acceptible. We are obviously making strides in the right direction as a Church and we are clearly far ahead of our state government on this topic, but I hope we can speed our progress and stand as a moral beacon alongside the Roman Catholic Church on this issue.

To end my recap on a high note, on Friday afternoon, I had the good fortune of being elected by acclamation to serve our Diocese in a three year term as a Trustee of The University of the South. I am obviously thrilled and itching to get to work on whatever my duties may be.

Apropos to the previous paragraph, all I can think to describe convention is this: Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! (Psalm 133) It was, in many ways all a convention should be. It was the embodiment of the Diocese with elected members sitting representative of their respective parishes. It was progressive, but with a tolerance, love and mutual respect between factions that has been conspicuous in its absence from many other meetings outside our Diocese.

It is this characteristic I most took away. Our friends from St. Paul's, Edenton, one of the most conservative parishes in the Diocese was at the table next to us. We interacted regularly and respectfully; Richard worked to modify a Resolution of theirs to make it more acceptable to the majority at the convention; they accepted as legitimate and fair the results of votes (even though I'm sure they were extremely disappointed in the failure of one of their resolutions) and did not show contempt for either the body or the individuals who voted against their resolution.

In the same vein, our reliably progressive Bishop struck a reliably (and unsurprisingly) progressive tone in his address. However, in that same speech, he also spoke at some length about his desire to accommodate many different points of view, and to allow for differences of conscience so all feel comfortable and welcome. He spoke of the areas of common ground we have in regards to human sexuality, and of the respect he had for their position. He was as welcoming and magnanimous to all (and not just the LGBT Community and its supporters!) as anyone could ask of a bishop.

It is a shame the news cameras didn't see that. There will be no clips of the conciliatory efforts made by either bishop or delegates. There will be no clips of us working together on the many things we agree wholeheartedly on, even while fumbling through the dark, trying to find acceptable ground on those things we don't. There will be no clips of the bonds of affection secured between those from the far left and the far right who, even in a short time of living and working together, are reminded of the humanity of those who stand apart; those who can so easily be called "enemies." If nothing else, gathering together reminds us that in spite of our differences we have far more in common than we think, and that though we may not all be of one mind, we are of one body and one prayer. Though we may disagree, we are of one God, one faith and one baptism. May we continue to recognize that, and to recognize our own need to serve the risen Lord in each and every one; as long as we do that I think we will be just fine.

For the 127th Convention of the Diocese of East Carolina, for those who hosted the convention, for the parishes and missions of the diocese, for the Episcopal Church, and for the people who attended and the work that was done this last week, Thanks Be To God!

Day 2, Part 2

After our legislative sessions have ended for the day, I want to reflect a bit on the Traces of the Trade. The movie was somewhat uncomfortable to watch as I'm sure it was intended to be. It is always uncomfortable when someone extends their hand in an earnestly conciliatory gesture and it is rejected, but this happened repeatedly in even the abridged version we saw. It is understandable though when one considers the magnitude of what the attempted apology is for. Put in the position of an African-American in today's still oppressive society, I'm not sure I could accept an apology, either. However, one thing that struck me was when the black producer took the hand of a white descendant of a slave trader and said, roughly, "Yes, I'm angry at 'White People', but when I see you all I see is a good and decent person." If we could step out of 'society' for a moment and recognize our shared humanity, seeing each other in that light might help us to heal our open wounds that we have been so willingly ignoring for most of the last 60 years.


In our afternoon breakout I attended the Resolutions meeting to watch and join the discussion on the resolutions. There were a couple of resolutions from St. Paul's Edenton in support of the Archbishop of Canterbury (standing against the Glasspool election) and in favor of the Anglican Covenant. Those were obviously the resolutions that sparked the most debate. Our standing committee gave consent to Glasspool yesterday which may have mooted one of the resolutions and another pro-LGBT resolution was pulled in light of the Bishops Address.

Happily, a Death Penalty resolution that I am strongly in support of was perhaps made stronger by folks urging us to highlight the immorality and social unacceptability of the Death Penalty rather than highlighting the cost saving benefits. I did not agree that the resolution was highlighting cost-cutting over morality, but I am always in favor of making as unequivocal a stand against the Death Penalty as possible. I sincerely hope the resolution passes.

I am now off to a Service of Reconciliation, again at Christ Church, New Bern. My father will be singing in the service as a member of Schola Cantorum, our Diocesan Choir, and I am very much looking forward to it. Following that, Dinner, a cocktail or two, and a chance to unwind after a surprisingly busy day.


Cheers!

Convention Time!!!

This afternoon the 127th Convention of the Diocese of East Carolina will convene and begin its business. I have the good fortune of attending this convention for the first time as a full voting delegate, having attended previously as a youth delegate, Bishop's page and observer. I also am very excited to be nominated and up for election as the next Trustee of The University of the South (Sewanee), my alma mater. There is not a ton of controversial legislation up this time, though there is a resolution regarding our position on the Ridley-Cambridge Draft of the Anglican Covenant we will be voting on.

The diocese will be addressing also the "Traces of the Trade," the marks slavery has left on our society, a particularly prescient issue in our diocese, who's many ports were the place of entry for many thousands of Africans brought to this country against their will. I will have my computer and phone with me throughout convention and will be blogging and posting twitter updates from convention at @danielstroud and with the hashtag #DECC unless an official hashtag emerges. So here is an invitation to the few folks who actually read this (and hopefully that number will go up over the course of the weekend): PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS BLOG!! Or send @replies to my twitter account or post on my facebook wall and join the conversation. Convention represents everyone from the Diocese and is in communion with the whole of the Episcopal Church, and I for one take my duties seriously and would like to have feedback and input on my thoughts and decisions so that I can effectively serve those who sent me there. So please send your thoughts and prayers and wish us all a safe, productive and harmonious trip to New Bern!

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.

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.

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

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.

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.