Reenactment or Resurrection?

I have been haunted for a good while by the comment of a friend and colleague.  He said that sometimes we in the Church are like Civil War Reenacters, dressing up and acting like we are in a Church that no longer exists.  No congregation, large or small, urban, suburban, or rural is immune from this possibility.

At the same time, I am convinced that there is something good (bene esse), even essential (esse) about the fact that the Church, while appropriately expressed in many cultural forms, nonetheless has a culture of its own, which transcends time and place.  One example of this would be clergy vestments.  It is historically interesting that the priestly chasuble derives from an outer garment during the Roman Empire.

But it is more important that it has come to represent the priestly ministry, even to those who have no clue where it comes from.  Liturgical form and ritual actions rise above locality alone.  And so I knew what was going on at Mass in India, even though I didn't understand a word of the language.  This is part of being baptized into the dying and rising of Jesus.

All of this is good, and we need not be ashamed of it, or of expecting people to learn it as they take up and grow in Christian faith.  But it is good as well to be haunted by the prospect that we can get it quite wrong and indulge ourselves in a fantasy world.  The ruins of Christendom are challenging us to sort this out.

Full and Running Over -- Back from India

Just a few weeks ago, Sharon and I returned from a trip to India.  We were there to see a new church building for which our Cathedral had provided most of the funding and to meet face to face with the people of that village parish -- St Paul's, Edayattupadam, Kottayam, Madhya Kerala Diocese, Church of South India.  In addition to visiting this congregation, we were guests of the bishop at the Diocesan Convention (more like a conference to us) and also attended Liturgy at Holy Trinity Cathedral in Kottayam.

In 2008, I had the privilege of attending the Holy Fire Ceremony in Jerusalem on Easter Eve.  Being with the people of St. Paul's, Edayattupadam as they welcomed us and we celebrated with them, in Eucharist and after, now ranks for me alongside the Holy Fire Ceremony as astounding, even overwhelming, experiences of the Resurrection.

Here is some video of the procession around the church following the Liturgy:

The Church of South India is the result of a successful merger of Anglicans, Presbyterians, and Methodists.  These former divisions are part of the ruins of Christendom that came to India with the missionaries.  But their coming together over 60 years ago is a sign of the Resurrection, despite the controversy it provoked at the time. Now, all these decades later, we experienced a Church which is ecumenical, evangelical and catholic.  It is thriving as a minority within a multi-faith culture.  We have much to learn from them as we poke about our own ruins.  We heard their children singing, "My cup is full and running over," and that song continues in our grateful hearts.

Calmly Plotting the Resurrection

In my part of the world, it is time for the final yard clean up before winter arrives.  Raking, blowing  and bagging leaves, trimming or pulling out plants, such are the tasks.  The years form us to know that these are indeed endings, but we also know that they are done in anticipation of another spring a few months on, so we also plant bulbs  Advent is impinging, even for those who would not know or think to say so.

I recently came across a moving expression of this by E.B. White, in a bit from the Introduction to his wife Katherine's "Onward and Upward in the Garden," found in "Autumn: A Spiritual Biography of the Season," (p.16) .  White writes of his wife planting bulbs:

"As the years went by and age overtook her, there was something comical yet touching in her  bedraggled appearance on this awesome occasion -- the small, hunched-over figure, her studied absorption in the implausible notion that there would be yet another spring, oblivious to the ending of her own days, which she knew perfectly well was near at hand, sitting there with her detailed chart under those dark skies in the dying October, calmly plotting the resurrection."

Schmidt, Gary D., and Susan M. Felch, eds. 2004. Autumn: a Spiritual Biography of the Season. Woodstock, VT: Skylight Paths Publishing.

This Preacher Needs Help

If you have not come across this some other way, these are brief video reflections I post on the weeks I am preaching about some of the challenges of the upcoming Sunday's scripture readings.  Feel free to subscribe on YouTube or find them on the Cathedral website or Facebook page.

Angels, Animals, and Saints (and Public Liturgy)

There is just over a month between the feast of Michael and All Angels (Michaelmas) on September 29 and All Saints Day.  Early on in that month comes St. Francis Day (October 4), with the Blessing of Animals in many places.  I have taken to thinking of these weeks as the time of Angels, Animals, and Saints, lifting our vision and imagination to a wide and deep view of creation and beyond, blazing spiritually like the fall foliage in this part of the world.  It begins our movement toward the end of the liturgical and then calendar year.

The Blessing of Animals is another of the ways churches "take it to the streets", not unlike Ashes to Go.  It always generates interest and enthusiasm beyond the regular church going crowd and, in a small city like Erie, usually brings the news media.  I wonder if it isn't another of those signs of the resurrection in the ruins of Christendom?  For this event, the sheer joy of God's creation, bigger than our thoughts and words, looms larger than the troubles of the day.  Affection abounds and wildness gets a foothold in our (reasonably) ordered ways.  Faith, hope, and love are evident all around.  Whatever the challenges to what is happening in our churches in these times, the Blessing of Animals is an example of vitality on the margins where church and culture meet.

Back On...and some Summer Signs of The Resurrection from the Good Sisters

Summer is coming to its end and it is time for me to get back in the saddle.  So I'm reflecting on some signs of the Resurrection I saw in recent weeks .   It is hard not to be aware that there are some challenging conversations going on between the Roman Catholic Bishops and the religious communities affiliated with the Leadership Conference of Women Religious.   These matters are of interest and concern to me, although it is not my place to render public opinions about them.

What I can do, however, is give thanks for some of the work done by Sisters here in the city of Erie.  Just a few weeks ago, the annual Italian Festival was held in the historic Little Italy section of town.  My wife and I never miss it.  Not only does Sharon have a family connection to the Italian immigrants who gave the neighborhood its identity and name, but some of our friends and neighbors are involved in leading the festival.  Whatever it was like in its older heyday (and I often wish I could time travel to see that), it has become a challenged inner city area.  Among those who are working hard to revitalize the neighborhood, not as it was, but as it could be, are the Sisters of St. Joseph, through the Neighborhood Network.

More recently I took part in a Take Back the Site Vigil.  These are occasions when Sisters from the various communities in Erie gather folks to places in the city where murder has occurred.  With Scripture readings, prayer, and blessing, the site is reclaimed from violence for the purposes intended by God.  It was my humble honor to be there.  Here is the scene as I approached the corner:

 
And a report from the Erie Benedictines with a link to more photos on GoErie.com.

I am deeply grateful for the courage and witness of these Sisters, and for their constant hospitality toward me.  They are trusting in God now, without dwelling in the past or being anxious about the future.

Firewater (And a Word about Communion Without Baptism)

Before the memories of Eastertide and Pentecost fade, I want to say something about Baptism as I poke around the ruins.  It is unsure what practices, structures, and institutions of Christendom will persist through these and coming days.  But the core things will for sure.  And the well spring is no doubt the great renewal of Baptism which is unfolding before us.

From the margins of "getting the kid done" (hopefully in private) to something more and more in the center of the Church's life, Baptism is like new water gushing up among the ruins.  Or maybe, remembering Pentecost, firewater.

It has been said that while the first fruit of the Liturgical Renewal was the return of the Holy Eucharist to the center of worship on Sundays, the deeper impact will come as we re-receive Holy Baptism.  I would say that we are still early in the time of the renewal of both of the principal sacraments.  But it is our time and it is an exciting time.

The hotly debated topic of Communion without Baptism will eventually be resolved as we deepen our practice and understanding of the Sacraments on the other side of Christendom.  Meanwhile, I would recommend no official change in policy while we live with some ambiguities in practice (perhaps stretching the concept of the "baptism of desire").

But the more significant "meanwhile" is the bubbling up of new life among us, through Baptism (and Baptismal Renewal).  I have said many times that we never come closer in this life to seeing the Resurrection with our own eyes than we do when we gather to the waters of Baptism.