Covenant

What is covenant? The Anglican Communion seems to be in a furor over the breaking of covenant. The Episcopal Church of the USA is in an uproar about what appears to me to be accusations of the breaking of covenant.

In the Bible, God offers Covenant with the created several times. Each time the created break the covenant. Each time God follows up with another covenant. We are constantly called to be, think and act like members of a covenant. The offer stands and we can choose to be or not to be in relationship with God. If we fail, God tries again.

I see the Universal Church as an on-going covenant. We're asked to believe and act as though we are believers that we are all one, through communion with God. I also see us continually failing, and see God continuing to offer paths to communion no matter how broken our side of the covenant.

All that said, a word from the jailhouse lawyer in me: Neither side in the current battle is right.

The literalists are saying that the Word cannot be altered by the changes in the culture of the World in which it is immersed, and therefor they have a right to break away. They ignore the (small "t") truth that logically, if covenants and agreements cannot be broken, then they have no argument before law to take away assets with them when they go. The original covenant of each parish should not be altered by the culture in which it is immersed...

The progressives are saying that the Word is constantly being revealed and that new understandings reveal new meaning. Well and good, but apply that evenly, and the original covenant of each congregation must also be re-examined in the light of new revelation.

Last week's New Testament reading from Ephesians is being ignored by both sides, but especially by the dissenters. They seem to be unable to put aside their anger, and it is leading them into slander and libel, as seen from this one set of eyes. Now I hear that South Carolina Diocese is rattling their chains. First, the Bishop is being led into falsifying his pledge to remain in the ECUSA. He either lied to obtain sanction or he had plans to violate the covenant. Either way, I am hurt by another clod falling off the continent. Second, if the covenant feels like chains, they should throw them off until the concept of covenant fits their theology better.

I have remained an Episcopalian despite the hurt, betrayal and faithlessness I perceived. My formation as a member of a denomination defined by covenant and compromise and my desire to worship in communion, even with those who hurt and/or provoked me, was stronger than my desire to hurt or provoke them. Eventually, piece by piece, my heart has been healed and my communion with God and my siblings in God's Church strengthened. Not strengthened by agreement, but by the commonalities, the joint struggle to remain a parish in the Episcopal Church, but also to do mission and ministry together in difficult times and situations.

What next, God? What can I do to help? Speak, Adonai, your servant is listening.

Dan's Sermon

My pastor gave a sermon today about the crowd the day after the feeding of the 5,000. he talked about us (the crowd) just not getting it. We want a miracle each and every day, and we don't understand that we ARE being fed. When asked, we quote Scripture, but we don't listen to the words we're given: Love God and each other. We are commanded to be in relationship: relationship to God and to each other.

My mind drifted a little, and I thought of my concentric circles of living. With the pastor's sermon, the bull's eye became God, around that, me, and around that my family and in-laws, around that my friends and around that my community, and then outward. The sermon said that there are only two: the bull's eye, which is God, and then the rest of Creation. Hm. No wonder we cite Scripture instead of obey it! It's easier!

Rainbows

There is in Rochester a bridge over the Genesee River. On one side is the Kodak Hawkeye plant (which during WWII manufactured bombsights and now that Kodak, Bausch and Lomb and other Rochester companies no longer actually MAKE things, has been let to ITT for some purpose no one knows) and its employee parking. On the other side of the bridge is the Maplewood rose garden park and the YMCA. On the bridge is a perpetual rainbow. Driving across westbound in the morning and eastbound in the evening, the mist from the cascade directly upriver floats in front of you, and the sun shines through it. It is a visual caress. No matter the season, there are people who make a special trip to use that bridge rather than the one a mile south or north.

I choose to drive up St. Paul Street to go to church two or three times a week so that I can cross there rather than downtown or at Bausch Street. I carry that rainbow into church with me. I have that image of God's creation when I hear the priest say, "and this fragile Earth, our island home," and the people respond, "By your will they were created and have their being." (BCP p370) Then my heart sings and that rainbow shimmers in my mind's eye.

The Roof

When I was 12 and thirteen, we lived in Alpena Michigan. One of the industries there was a roof shingle manufactory. They made an asphalt shingle that stood up to wind and lasted. But they were outshined by new self-sealing shingles that were easier to install. As I sat here today gazing out my office window, I realized the house across the street has the shingles. They are at least 40 years old, and are covered in moss, but the roof is intact. Not a single lifted or curled or bare-of-gravel shingle to be seen. I imagine myself in the position of the owner of that factory: he had a wonderful product, he made it at a reasonable price and employed several people in a good business. Bu he was done in by a lesser product that was easier to install, even though it did not last as long. People were willing to go with the cheaper (in labor costs) product to their own detriment. How would I have reacted? Would I have become bitter, disillusioned? Would I have started making the lesser product? How would I have decided? I don't know how he decided, but even the best asphalt roofs don't last more than a lifetime. Soon the house across the street will get a new roof that will only last 20 years. Will it matter?

Wygelia

Just as the lilacs rhododendrons and azaleas faded away, the wygelia started blooming. In my neighborhood, the perennials are a sedate parade, one following the other, so that there is always something joyous to see. I look forward to the asian lilies and hostas as I revel in the odor of the lindenbaums and privets. I am blessed with the gift of a new flower every week until the kale is covered with snow.

I have been thinking much of late on the conversion experience. Some worship communities put heavy emphasis on that one bright moment of mystery and awe when God's Love overwhelms the senses. I have many of these, triggered by a mere flowering bush, or a baby's chortle, a teen's energetic lissomeness, or a sparkle from a craggy old face. A realist would say that the red cardinal's song is not caused by his heart bursting with joy, but by his inborn need to mate. But why can't it be both? Why can't I overlay scentific reality with my own joy? I promise not to forget the cold just because I am warm. And I promise live from crest to crest instead of cleft to cleft.

Cold Daffodils and the 10th Commandment

My neighbor planted his bulbs near the house; because there is a big overhang on my house, I chose to plant mine in the front yard, next to a big boulder. Next door, the daffodils were in full bloom when the spring snowstorm hit us. I had been sad because I had no daffodils, but now mine are in bloom.

I have had a hard time my whole life being covetous. My friends had Norman Rockwell families. I was an Army brat. I had short hair, my schoolmates had Beatles and Stones hairdos. Cars, muscles, money, social skills, adventures, other people have always had what I want. I was resentful, but it never translated into a drive or ambition. Now, as others are having their midlife crises, I am finally happy not to have something. I am now realizing that the internal babble of jealousy flavored my life but never motivated me: I didn't make decisions based on wanting to be like others.

The fineness of the distinction struck me with those daffodils. I wished my bulbs would come up earlier, but I wasn't about to move them. I just forgot for a while that they all would bloom for the same length eventually. I let my envy make me unhappy by focusing on someone else's blessing instead of my own. The 10 Commandments by being proscriptive, tell me to stop but they don't tell me how. The two the Jesus gave, are prescriptive, telling me how to act.

The daffodils have provided me with a clarity. Instead of being jealous, of wishing I had his flowers, I can rejoice in his because I can enjoy them, and rejoice also that I get a double helping, because when his are through blooming, we both still have mine to enjoy.

I have been doing that, without understanding that I was participating in it. I rejoiced with and for Brad at his ordination, beng glad I had a part in advancing it. Ditto with Alicia and Bryan. I have thrilled to Deirdre's becoming a granny, and have admired the physical beauty. I have enjoyed other people's possessing things without jealousy. Seeing others happy can make me happy.

Dark days are in your mind

Why is the day so foreboding? It is within my own expectations and judgments that gloominess arises. The dogs are truly in the moment: "I am tired, I am hungry, I hear a noise, I see a movement, the one I love is home again." Me, I worry about how the one I love sits morosely, I worry about whether I am doing the right thing to accomplish my mission, I worry that I will grow old and ineffectual before I am done.

I woke today before the alarm went off. I lay in bed looking out at a light grey, almost pearly sky and rejoiced in my breathing, luxuriated in warmth and comfort and thanked God for his gift of those things. But as soon as I got up, I started complaining. My back hurt, there was dog hair on my face, the floor was chilly, my day was too full. Oh, and the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and taking my measly retirement plans along with it.

And yet I have been told that I appear to be a cheery person. I really do look for the positive. So there is a dissonance between the person who is "on duty" for others and the dark poet of my privacy. Who is real? Next Sunday is Easter. Am I a Passion Sunday person, like Mel Gibson, or am I a resurrectionist? Ecclesiastes or Mel Brooks? Know thyself, Bob. And don't evangelize until you are sure of what you believe!