I just had to laugh when I saw this result, since the level went up when I quoted the BCP.
Monday, May 26, 2008
My Blog Readablility
I just had to laugh when I saw this result, since the level went up when I quoted the BCP.
A Confession
Holy God, heavenly Father, you formed me from the dust in your image and likeness, and redeemed me from sin and death by the cross of your Son Jesus Christ. Through the water of baptism you clothed me with the shining garment of his righteousness, and established me among your children in your kingdom. But I have squandered the inheritance of your saints, and have wandered far in a land that is waste.
Especially, I confess to you and to the Church that I have repeatedly surrendered to rage against my more conservative brothers and sisters in Christ when I have seen them praising schism and when I have seen their complaints against Presiding Bishop Jefferts Schori and the House of Bishops. My anger has been as strong as what I would feel if I saw a priest take the consecrated host, spit on it, throw it to the ground, and grind it into the floor with their heel. I have not become angry because their complaints are without foundation (the most distressing complaints are all plausible). I have become angry because the complaining and their choice of venues in which to do the complaining seems to me to undermine the authority of the PB, the HoB, and of your Church. I even have become angry with those whom I believe are only striving to do what is best for your Church. I find it difficult to see airing their very real concerns publicly and frequently without any apparent contact with those in authority in TEC as anything other than a profound rebellion against the Church, and schism is even more clearly a rebellion. Every rebellion seems to me to be a rebellion against you, my Lord, at its heart, not because you have established human authorities in such a way as to lift them above error, but because when they give a command or a ruling they have usurped your authority in order to do so. This usurpation has never angered me because I see that humans, in their sinfulness, need government to maintain a semblance of peace and justice apart from you, and I also see that proper obedience to human authority forms us in the habits of obedience which might help us obey you better. However, since all authority in heaven and on earth are yours, O Lord, when we rebel against and undermine human systems of authority we have also rejected your authority and have begun to form ourselves in a habit of acting as if we are Lord instead of Christ Jesus. This is why I have become angry. I see them placing themselves on your throne to give judgement on the Church and the world while claiming that you have required them to sit upon your seat of judgement.
I confess, my Lord, that I have also desired to sit upon your seat of judgement, desired the ability to coerce those with whom I have become angry. I long to be able to force them to be silent in public and express their concerns privately with those whom your Church has placed in authority over them, following the pattern I see reflected in monastic customaries and rules and following the monastic tradition which teaches that obedience is expressed as surely in humbly telling one's superior when a task assigned is thought to be impossible or illegal and asking clarifying questions when something is obscure as it is in immediately doing as one has been told.
Therefore, O Lord, from these and all other sins I cannot now remember, I turn to you in sorrow and repentance. Receive me again into the arms of your mercy, and restore me to the blessed company of your faithful people;through him in whom you have redeemed the world, your Son our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Especially, I confess to you and to the Church that I have repeatedly surrendered to rage against my more conservative brothers and sisters in Christ when I have seen them praising schism and when I have seen their complaints against Presiding Bishop Jefferts Schori and the House of Bishops. My anger has been as strong as what I would feel if I saw a priest take the consecrated host, spit on it, throw it to the ground, and grind it into the floor with their heel. I have not become angry because their complaints are without foundation (the most distressing complaints are all plausible). I have become angry because the complaining and their choice of venues in which to do the complaining seems to me to undermine the authority of the PB, the HoB, and of your Church. I even have become angry with those whom I believe are only striving to do what is best for your Church. I find it difficult to see airing their very real concerns publicly and frequently without any apparent contact with those in authority in TEC as anything other than a profound rebellion against the Church, and schism is even more clearly a rebellion. Every rebellion seems to me to be a rebellion against you, my Lord, at its heart, not because you have established human authorities in such a way as to lift them above error, but because when they give a command or a ruling they have usurped your authority in order to do so. This usurpation has never angered me because I see that humans, in their sinfulness, need government to maintain a semblance of peace and justice apart from you, and I also see that proper obedience to human authority forms us in the habits of obedience which might help us obey you better. However, since all authority in heaven and on earth are yours, O Lord, when we rebel against and undermine human systems of authority we have also rejected your authority and have begun to form ourselves in a habit of acting as if we are Lord instead of Christ Jesus. This is why I have become angry. I see them placing themselves on your throne to give judgement on the Church and the world while claiming that you have required them to sit upon your seat of judgement.
I confess, my Lord, that I have also desired to sit upon your seat of judgement, desired the ability to coerce those with whom I have become angry. I long to be able to force them to be silent in public and express their concerns privately with those whom your Church has placed in authority over them, following the pattern I see reflected in monastic customaries and rules and following the monastic tradition which teaches that obedience is expressed as surely in humbly telling one's superior when a task assigned is thought to be impossible or illegal and asking clarifying questions when something is obscure as it is in immediately doing as one has been told.
Therefore, O Lord, from these and all other sins I cannot now remember, I turn to you in sorrow and repentance. Receive me again into the arms of your mercy, and restore me to the blessed company of your faithful people;through him in whom you have redeemed the world, your Son our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Grumbling
One of the few benefits I've ever found for working at Target is that I'm beginning to understand more why St. Benedict is so strongly opposed to grumbling among the monks. You see, grumbling is one of the most popular pasttimes among my co-workers, and it really does hurt productivity and decrease folks inclination to work hard. Unfortunately it's also grounded in real problems in how the store is run. Don't get me wrong, some of the bosses are great, but the employees aren't equally good about doing their job, and it is relatively hard to get fired from Target.
I've also gotten some lessons in the evils of grumbling recently by listening to Anglican news recently. You see, the bishop of the diocese of San Joaquin was deposed, but some folks think that the canons weren't followed to the letter. They even have some reason to think so. The results look similar and mostly seem to be increasing disaffection from TEC among those who are less then happy with the current leadership. It also gets used to say that liberals who care more about their own agenda than canon law are out to get the conservatives by any means possible legal or illegal.
So what might be a more appropriate way of responding to each of the circumstances that are currently leading to grumbling. In the case of Target one could try talking to the Store manager or the HR person. Things might not get better immediately, but at least the store manager believes in doing his job right.
In the case of San Joaquin, it is a little less clear, but as far as I can see once the matter has been mentioned to whichever bishops one knows the matter is best left for them to respond to the question as a house, or not which would be a sort of response as well. One might also ask Canterbury if he will recognize the deposition, but beyond that the matter should probably be left strictly alone.
Perhaps even bringing up these topics here is a sort of gumbling, but I hope I have not slipped to far in that direction while thinking about what I might learn from the bad examples of others.
I've also gotten some lessons in the evils of grumbling recently by listening to Anglican news recently. You see, the bishop of the diocese of San Joaquin was deposed, but some folks think that the canons weren't followed to the letter. They even have some reason to think so. The results look similar and mostly seem to be increasing disaffection from TEC among those who are less then happy with the current leadership. It also gets used to say that liberals who care more about their own agenda than canon law are out to get the conservatives by any means possible legal or illegal.
So what might be a more appropriate way of responding to each of the circumstances that are currently leading to grumbling. In the case of Target one could try talking to the Store manager or the HR person. Things might not get better immediately, but at least the store manager believes in doing his job right.
In the case of San Joaquin, it is a little less clear, but as far as I can see once the matter has been mentioned to whichever bishops one knows the matter is best left for them to respond to the question as a house, or not which would be a sort of response as well. One might also ask Canterbury if he will recognize the deposition, but beyond that the matter should probably be left strictly alone.
Perhaps even bringing up these topics here is a sort of gumbling, but I hope I have not slipped to far in that direction while thinking about what I might learn from the bad examples of others.
Eucharist and Justice
Derek over at haligweorc grumbled (here) last week about a sermon delivered by someone from 815 that seemed excessively focused on social justice. The Anglican Scotist responded in the last comment on that thread and here on his own blog saying that social justice is the church's business, and that we can see this fairly easily by looking at the eucharist. Derek responded here reiterating his position that there's a lot more to the Eucharist than a simple call to social justice ministry.
On the whole I think the Anglican Scotist missed Derek's point. Working for social justice is a wonderful thing, and it is certainly part of the church's business, but it isn't the foundation of the church. The foundation is God in Jesus Christ. There are times when the foundation gets obscured by our drive to do what God has given us to do, even with folks who are genuinely committed to God, and when that happens it is important for us to be called back to our sure foundation.
One can begin to see why this is important, I think, by considering how the the current emphasis on social justice in some circles fits with monasticism, especially contemplative monasticism. In the case of those orders which devote themselves primarily to working with the poor and oppressed the fit is quite good, but the primary work of a Benedictine is prayer and the emphasis on prayer is intensified or underlined among contemplatives. Prayer isn't obviously part of social justice work, especially when there are policies to be advocated for or pamphlets to be distributed. In fact, as a general rule the contemplative life, and to a lesser extent the traditional Benedictine practice of chanting the entire psalter every week, looks like a waste of time to those accustomed to the active life, and to some of those most thoroughly committed to the success of things like the MDG's. After all it doesn't seem to change anything.
And yet I have heard that the one thing that was particularly important to Archbishop Desmond Tutu in his fight against apartheid was the prayers of the rest of the church. In fact while I was visiting Holy Cross Monastery this past January the book read at lunch told of how Archbishop Tutu, when he gave a speech at Columbia (IIRC) while the university was debating divestment, only asked for prayers and made a point of not mentioning concrete acts like divestment even though everyone was expecting him to advocate direct action. To some extent this leads us straight to the question of what prayer does. I'm not sure I can answer that question and I am sure it would take enough space that it would be better to ponder it in a separate post, but maybe just thinking about what the Eucharist is and does might be enough for the moment.
The Eucharist is basically a place in which we encounter the crucified Christ in the readings and especially in the bread and wine, although those signs can also obscure the deeper reality. This encounter transforms us, if we let it, more and more into the image of God, which in part means increasing our love of God and, because of God's love, of neighbor. Sometimes this is manifested in advocacy work, but it can also be manifested by deepening contemplation, theological treatises, or the creation of works of art, including beautiful liturgies, depending on the vocation of the individual being transformed. This suggests that talking only about social justice might encourage the denigration of vocations that don't fit that particular mold, but further thought about vocation really is a topic for another time.
On the whole I think the Anglican Scotist missed Derek's point. Working for social justice is a wonderful thing, and it is certainly part of the church's business, but it isn't the foundation of the church. The foundation is God in Jesus Christ. There are times when the foundation gets obscured by our drive to do what God has given us to do, even with folks who are genuinely committed to God, and when that happens it is important for us to be called back to our sure foundation.
One can begin to see why this is important, I think, by considering how the the current emphasis on social justice in some circles fits with monasticism, especially contemplative monasticism. In the case of those orders which devote themselves primarily to working with the poor and oppressed the fit is quite good, but the primary work of a Benedictine is prayer and the emphasis on prayer is intensified or underlined among contemplatives. Prayer isn't obviously part of social justice work, especially when there are policies to be advocated for or pamphlets to be distributed. In fact, as a general rule the contemplative life, and to a lesser extent the traditional Benedictine practice of chanting the entire psalter every week, looks like a waste of time to those accustomed to the active life, and to some of those most thoroughly committed to the success of things like the MDG's. After all it doesn't seem to change anything.
And yet I have heard that the one thing that was particularly important to Archbishop Desmond Tutu in his fight against apartheid was the prayers of the rest of the church. In fact while I was visiting Holy Cross Monastery this past January the book read at lunch told of how Archbishop Tutu, when he gave a speech at Columbia (IIRC) while the university was debating divestment, only asked for prayers and made a point of not mentioning concrete acts like divestment even though everyone was expecting him to advocate direct action. To some extent this leads us straight to the question of what prayer does. I'm not sure I can answer that question and I am sure it would take enough space that it would be better to ponder it in a separate post, but maybe just thinking about what the Eucharist is and does might be enough for the moment.
The Eucharist is basically a place in which we encounter the crucified Christ in the readings and especially in the bread and wine, although those signs can also obscure the deeper reality. This encounter transforms us, if we let it, more and more into the image of God, which in part means increasing our love of God and, because of God's love, of neighbor. Sometimes this is manifested in advocacy work, but it can also be manifested by deepening contemplation, theological treatises, or the creation of works of art, including beautiful liturgies, depending on the vocation of the individual being transformed. This suggests that talking only about social justice might encourage the denigration of vocations that don't fit that particular mold, but further thought about vocation really is a topic for another time.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
A Fable about Vocation
I wrote this little story (everything not in italics) while I was visiting Julian House in the first week of Easter, and finally got around to posting it with a few revisions early on the morning of April 9th, Dietrich Bonhoeffer's day. I back dated the post to the night it was written.
Once long ago, there was a town on the plains between the mountains and the sea. Everyone around the whole world knew that a treasure of immeasurable value was said to be within a days journey of the town, or two days at the most. This rumor brought many adventurers to the town and the people prospered, although they never went seeking the treasure themselves. They didn't seek mostly because all the treasure they'd ever seen was a few uncut gemstones and some fool's gold. Besides they got plenty of treasure from the travellers passing through, although it certainly had a measurable value.
One day a child of the town announced that she would go and find the treasure and mark the path for others to follow. No one in the town took this seriously, but they happily sold her whatever supplies she asked for and joked about waiting to see her carrying back limitless treasure. Her only response was to laugh and ask how they thought she could carry so much treasure.
She would journey out on one day and return a couple days later. When she returned the people would always ask her if she'd found the treasure, laughing, and tell her to give it up when she said that she hadn't found it yet. After all, there were always plenty of foreigners to provide all the wealth a person could want. This continued for a long time until finally when she returned she said that she had found the treasure and now she was working to mark the path. Still, few believed her even though she had returned with a little treasure. She ignored the naysayers, however, and set about marking the path and making it as easy to follow as possible. She even took the few who wanted to see the treasure with her when she left town. and they always returned with some gold and jewels and tales of an incredible treasure. They also told how the path became quite difficult at times, but their guide was never daunted.
Eventually she grew old and couldn't make the journey any more, but she had become wealthy from all the times she had gone to the treasure, so that was fine for her. Her last instructions to those who would seek the treasure was to follow the sign and never give up, no matter how hard the path became.
Where is this village you ask? What was the sign? Those secrets have been lost in the mists of time and the changing of the world. The village could be anywhere, even your own city or town. About the sign there is even greater disagreement, but I say it is the cross. The only way to find out is to follow whatever sign you think will be a faithful guide and never lose hope, even though the way is promised to become very hard indeed.
-from the mouth of an old story teller I met in my travels.
Once long ago, there was a town on the plains between the mountains and the sea. Everyone around the whole world knew that a treasure of immeasurable value was said to be within a days journey of the town, or two days at the most. This rumor brought many adventurers to the town and the people prospered, although they never went seeking the treasure themselves. They didn't seek mostly because all the treasure they'd ever seen was a few uncut gemstones and some fool's gold. Besides they got plenty of treasure from the travellers passing through, although it certainly had a measurable value.
One day a child of the town announced that she would go and find the treasure and mark the path for others to follow. No one in the town took this seriously, but they happily sold her whatever supplies she asked for and joked about waiting to see her carrying back limitless treasure. Her only response was to laugh and ask how they thought she could carry so much treasure.
She would journey out on one day and return a couple days later. When she returned the people would always ask her if she'd found the treasure, laughing, and tell her to give it up when she said that she hadn't found it yet. After all, there were always plenty of foreigners to provide all the wealth a person could want. This continued for a long time until finally when she returned she said that she had found the treasure and now she was working to mark the path. Still, few believed her even though she had returned with a little treasure. She ignored the naysayers, however, and set about marking the path and making it as easy to follow as possible. She even took the few who wanted to see the treasure with her when she left town. and they always returned with some gold and jewels and tales of an incredible treasure. They also told how the path became quite difficult at times, but their guide was never daunted.
Eventually she grew old and couldn't make the journey any more, but she had become wealthy from all the times she had gone to the treasure, so that was fine for her. Her last instructions to those who would seek the treasure was to follow the sign and never give up, no matter how hard the path became.
Where is this village you ask? What was the sign? Those secrets have been lost in the mists of time and the changing of the world. The village could be anywhere, even your own city or town. About the sign there is even greater disagreement, but I say it is the cross. The only way to find out is to follow whatever sign you think will be a faithful guide and never lose hope, even though the way is promised to become very hard indeed.
-from the mouth of an old story teller I met in my travels.
Monday, February 25, 2008
An Anglican Allegory
Once long ago there was a Benedictine monastery with many brothers and very beautiful liturgy. As is true in many monasteries devoted to a more apostolic life the brothers gave of themselves and their time to a variety of causes, and (when they weren't busy in the monastery) worked among the rich and the poor for the glory of God, and it was very good.
As time passed some of the brothers became unhappy with where some of their brothers were giving their time. This is not an occurance which greatly troubles a wise Superior since in a monastery of any size there are always disagreements bubbling up among the brethren due to the fallenness of hunanity. As long as proper care is taken to help the wranglers grow in charity such situations strengthen the brethren which shows the Lord's power to bring good even from that which began as an evil. Unfortunately, on this occasion the Superior had great sympathy for one set of the wranglers and, acting more like just another brother than the Superior, worked among the brethren to help their view prevail. Because of this the Chapter of the monastery did go so far as to speak negatively about the work of those brothers against whom the grumbles had been directed, but it did not forbid the brothers from continuing in the work. This was greeted with great joy by those who had grumbled against their brothers, and was greeted with complaints by those whose work was discouraged. The worst of the results was that nothing was done to encourage the brethren to grow in charity and the whole of the brethren were disturbed by the haste and onesidedness of the treatment in such a way that obedience began to be undermined.
Shortly after this a new Superior was elected. The new Superior had spoken in defence of the work that had been grumbled about, and as a result of the decreasing habit of obedience his election was greeted with dismay by those who had grumbled and joy by those most committed to the work, and the factionalism in the monastery increased. This new Superior, however, was deeply steeped in prayer and the theology of the Church and knew very well the responsibility of a Superior. As a result both of the malformation that had been going on and the new Superior's care to point all the brethren back to their vocation and to God, confusion spread. This is because the quarrelling brothers had become so accustomed to the idea that the Superior would take sides and generally not behave well that they assumed the new Superior was like the previous Superior with a new set of priorities he wanted to impose on the community. This malformation resulted in many failing to recognize when the Superior called all the brethren to live in charity for all their brothers, causing decreases in charity and an ever increasing inclination to disobedience.
The story has several possible endings. In one the quarreling brothers finally listened to those of their brothers who had never entered into the fight, and embraced their prior obedience and grew in charity. In another the quarreling brothers never recognized how far they had gone from proper Christian charity and eventually some or all of them left the community to live as they thought best to the sorrow of those brothers who remained.
You tell me, which ending should the Communion prefer?
As time passed some of the brothers became unhappy with where some of their brothers were giving their time. This is not an occurance which greatly troubles a wise Superior since in a monastery of any size there are always disagreements bubbling up among the brethren due to the fallenness of hunanity. As long as proper care is taken to help the wranglers grow in charity such situations strengthen the brethren which shows the Lord's power to bring good even from that which began as an evil. Unfortunately, on this occasion the Superior had great sympathy for one set of the wranglers and, acting more like just another brother than the Superior, worked among the brethren to help their view prevail. Because of this the Chapter of the monastery did go so far as to speak negatively about the work of those brothers against whom the grumbles had been directed, but it did not forbid the brothers from continuing in the work. This was greeted with great joy by those who had grumbled against their brothers, and was greeted with complaints by those whose work was discouraged. The worst of the results was that nothing was done to encourage the brethren to grow in charity and the whole of the brethren were disturbed by the haste and onesidedness of the treatment in such a way that obedience began to be undermined.
Shortly after this a new Superior was elected. The new Superior had spoken in defence of the work that had been grumbled about, and as a result of the decreasing habit of obedience his election was greeted with dismay by those who had grumbled and joy by those most committed to the work, and the factionalism in the monastery increased. This new Superior, however, was deeply steeped in prayer and the theology of the Church and knew very well the responsibility of a Superior. As a result both of the malformation that had been going on and the new Superior's care to point all the brethren back to their vocation and to God, confusion spread. This is because the quarrelling brothers had become so accustomed to the idea that the Superior would take sides and generally not behave well that they assumed the new Superior was like the previous Superior with a new set of priorities he wanted to impose on the community. This malformation resulted in many failing to recognize when the Superior called all the brethren to live in charity for all their brothers, causing decreases in charity and an ever increasing inclination to disobedience.
The story has several possible endings. In one the quarreling brothers finally listened to those of their brothers who had never entered into the fight, and embraced their prior obedience and grew in charity. In another the quarreling brothers never recognized how far they had gone from proper Christian charity and eventually some or all of them left the community to live as they thought best to the sorrow of those brothers who remained.
You tell me, which ending should the Communion prefer?
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