Psalm 46:10 Be still and know that I am God.

The magazine "A Northern Light" had a repeat of an 1886 article which advised the reader that noise and busy-ness was not a sign of work being done. I t reminded me of a truism in engineering one of my college fraternity brothers was fond of repeating, "If a part makes a lot of noise, replace it, it is going to fail." Quietly doing one's job without fanfare or hullabaloo is not only efficient, but effective.

Coincidentally, my spiritual director, Marie, has asked me to think on the idea that God may not want or expect us to "do" anything. It might be our calling to "be" for God.

It is who we are that may encourage, enable or even drive us to take one action or another. We are not doing it "for God;" we are doing it because it is in our nature. That is also simply "being" for God. But I think Marie was calling me to consider taking a break from activity and spend some time in quiet and reflection.

My sister sent this to me. I remember seeing it in the theaters when I was just a lad...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVh75ylAUXY&feature=player_embedded

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.