Another Take on An Old Story

Fred Plummer, from the Center for Progressive Chrisitanity, recently published this article.  It is a description of the Jesus of history that takes a little different tack -- not the usual Bethlehem-Nazareth-Jerusalem cycle with which we are so familiar.  I want to share this with you so that you can read and digest some of the insights that simply come with the reading. Don't be put off because it comes from a source that is labeled "progressive." There is nothing avant guard about it.  Feel free to comment after you have read it.

Just Click here to read the entire article. You won't be disappointed.

How Shall We Evangelize?

Because of its geographical distance, Ireland was out of the loop of the first round of major evangelization by the church. When it was evangelized by Saint Patrick, it operated underneath the radar of Roman control. Thus, its breed of Christianity grew up independently of much of the rest of the church. It was, to use modern missions terminology, an indigenous church.

Depending on who you listen to, Ireland was thoroughly Christianized between one and three generations–incredibly rapid growth by anyone’s standards. Thus, it becomes a great model for us to study.

George Hunter, in The Celtic Way of Evangelism that spells out the Celtic strategy for doubling groups contrasted with the Roman way:

“Bluntly stated, the Roman model for reaching people is: 1) Present the Christian message; 2) Invite them to decide to believe in Christ and become Christians and 3) If they decide positively, welcome them into the church and its fellowship. The Roman model seems very logical to us because most American evangelicals are scripted by it! We explain the gospel, they accept Christ, we welcome them into the church! Presentation, Decision, Assimilation. What could be more logical than that?

The Celtic model for reaching people works like this: 1) You first establish community with people, or bring them into the fellowship of your community of faith. 2) Within fellowship, you engage in conversation, ministry, prayer, and worship. 3) In time, as they discover that they now believe, you invite them to commit. “

This seems the perfect model for the way we do things at St. Mark’s.  With the tremendous efforts spent by the parish in reaching out into the community through its Jubilee Ministries and intentional hospitality the number of people touched daily by the “small” congregation provides an excellent foundation for the Celtic Model.  Last month alone, nearly 300 hundred people and were touched in one way or another.  That constant and abiding statement of care, concern, and presence is St. Mark’s way of fulfilling our baptismal covenant:

“Celebrant      Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and
                 fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the
                 prayers?

People          I will, with God’s help.”

-BCP, 304

Thanks to Josh Hunt information on The Celtic Way of Evangelism

by way of Sharon Pearson’s blog “buildingfaith”

Memorial Day 2011

"According to news commentator and Episcopalian Jon Meacham," wrote The Rev. Carolynne G. Williams,canon for pastoral care and elder ministry at the Cathedral of St. Philip in Atlanta, GA, " less than one-half of one percent of Americans serve on active duty in our combined armed forces. I was shocked at the number."

Our armed forces and the families of those serving are huge, in my mind. My father, who died in 2002 at the age of 75, served in World War II. My uncle Art, who is like my second dad, survives at age 88. He served not only in World War II but also in Korea. My cousin, Matthew, served in Vietnam, and a mentor and friend in the priesthood, Msgr. Bill Galagher, served in the First Gulf War (Desert Storm). Others dear to me fortunately served in peace time postings.  I was forunate that those who served and that have been dear to me were able to come home. We all know some, however, whose loved ones served gallantly but did not return.

Those that, as Lincoln said, "gave the last full measure of devotion," deserve at least a moment of silence out of respect and thanksgiving for the great sacrifice they made. When I was younger, in my hometown, the morning of Memorial Day was a sober affair.  A parade featuring living veterans in our community made its way from one war memorial to another. At each, an honor guard gave a wreathe was laid, there was a volley salute, taps was played and a moment of silence followed. This took most of the morning, timed to end at the main memorial in the center of town at just about noon. All flags were at half-satff until the noon bells rang. It was then that the somber celebration turned its attention to family, picnics, and events marking the beginning of summer.

Many veterans are buried in St. Mark's Cemetery. We mark their graves annually by placing small national flags at their headstone. Market Square in Lewistown is dominated by the War Monument. While we can sometimes fantasize about the gallantry of those who have fought our battles, they fought not for their own glory, but that we might have peace. So, in the words of Civil War General John A. Logan, "We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance."

How will you remember our war dead on this Memorial Day? Is this just another long weekend for you? Is this weekend just another opportunity to tap the screen of your iPad to download a coupon for a great sale? Don't misunderstand me. I do these things as well.

But, I believe that when we look into the eyes of those who have served our country and we have the opportunity to talk with them, we should seize the moment. There is pride and stability represented in those men and women. There is a respect that yearns to be shown in the midst of our overlooking the humanness of their experience. In our hurriedness, we tend to forget the costs of war, not only of munitions and logistics, but the priceless human costs of those that gave their lives and those who return, whose lives are forever changed by their experience.

On this Memorial Day, in the midst of our long weekend of sleeping in, shopping, rounds of golf, beach trips and finishing those last three books, all of which are wonderful and fun things to do and be a part of, let us pause for a moment or two to recall, reflect, and remember those who have protected our great nation and its place in the world.
Have a good Memorial Day.

Hot Cross Buns

It is one of the peculiarities of the observance of the great fast of Lent that several of the customs surrounding it have to do with food:  pretzels, simnel cake, and hot cross buns.  Hot cross buns are perhaps the strangest of these customs as they are sweet rolls that are eaten on the most important fast of all, Good Friday.
The origins of this very English custom are not entirely clear.  It has been suggested that hot cross buns originated in the pagan cult that preceded Christianity in Britain.  But the earliest historical mention of them is traced to a 12th century English monk who is said to have marked buns with the sign of the cross in honor of Good Friday.  A 14th century record tells how a monk of St. Albans distributed spiced cakes to the needy on Good Friday, inaugurating an annual tradition, though he carefully guarded his recipe.

Whatever their origins, there were certainly ideas associated with these buns that some would regard as superstitions.  Hot cross buns were eaten after sundown to break the Good Friday fast. In the Middle Ages, they were believed to have powers of protection and healing.  People would hang a hot cross bun from the rafters of their homes for protection through the coming year.  And if someone was sick, some of the dried bun would be ground into powder and mixed with water for the sick person to drink.

In the reign of Elizabeth I, when Roman Catholicism was banned, making the sign of the cross on the buns was regarded as popery and the practice was banned.  But neither Church nor State could suppress the popular custom, so legislation was enacted to limit consumption of hot cross buns to legitimate religious occasions such as Christmas, Easter, and funerals.  The familiar nursery rhyme, “Hot cross buns,” derives from the call of the street vendors who sold them. You can sing it too!

There are various recipes for the buns, but an authentic recipe should include currants and a cross either incised on the top of the buns or painted on with a sweet glaze.  Here’s a recipe to make your own hot cross buns.
Hot cross buns! 
Hot cross buns! 
One a penny, two a penny, 
Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns! 
Hot cross buns!
 If you haven’t any daughters, 
Give them to your sons!
 One a penny, two a penny, 
Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
 Hot cross buns!
 If you haven’t got a penny
 A ha’penny will do.
 If you haven’t got a ha’penny,
 Well God bless you.

- with gratitude to Sharon Pearson

Half Way There

Well here we are – about half way through Lent.  I’ve learned something again for the umpteenth time – some thing I have always known – I am a sinner.  On Ash Wednesday, I wrote about how Lent can be like a mirror in an unavoidable place that shows us an image of who we really are.  As of today, Lent 2011 has succeeded. 

As I set out on my Lenten journey, I promised to write a reflection for this blog each day.  In that, I have failed.  I promised myself that I would exercise each day to improve my health.  In that, I have failed.  I promised not to take sweets.  In that, I have failed.  Without going into much more detail, I can safely say that in every discipline that I undertook for this Lent, I have failed. 

That might be cause for great discouragement. 

However, the opposite is true.  My failures at these undertakings is only the mirror showing me that on my own, with my own strength, I cannot attain the life that God calls me to live.  My failures starkly remind me that without grace, I can do nothing well. 

It took three weeks to get here.  Now I can get to the business of letting God be God in my life.  I can finally put away the fantasy that I can do all these things on my own.  Am I throwing in the towel on my Lenten disciplines?  No way.  Only now, I have learned again that I can only succeed by the grace of God.

Hail, Mary, full of grace!

The prayer, "Hail Mary," is more than the cry of desparation of a quarterback on the football field as he lets loose a high, long pass that may or may not result is tremendous gain. "Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee" recalls the greeting of the angel Gabriel when announcing the plan of God to make Mary of Nazareth the vessel that would bear the world its Savior. This announcement, or "Annuciation," is recounted for us in the Gospel of Luke. On this day, exectly nine months before the celebration of Christmas, marks the conception of Christ in the womb of a simple Jewish girl from Nazareth. It recalls not only the announcement (which may have been quite startling to a young maiden) but also the deep confidence and trust that this woman had in the God of her ancestors. With confidence, she responds, "I am the handmaiden of the Lord, let it be done to me as you say."

We celebrate this day to call to mind that sense of confidence. It couldn't have been easy for Mary to contemplate what lay ahead for her. She was not yet married, yet she would be with child in a culture that looked on such events with great disdain. Having apparently violated the terms of her betrothal to Joseph, she would have been an embarassment and grave disappointment to her parents. Joseph would walk away from her. She would be shunned by her community. She would be labeled a "loose woman" for the rest of her life.

Still her answer was clear and unequival, "Let it be done." Interesting, too, is the fact that God did not foist his will upon her. He had chosen her and it would remain with her to decide whether this momentous action would take place. God had placed the salvation of the world in the hands of this youngster. What inner character enabled her to undertake this tremendous work. Bearing and rearing children is not easy in any age and is daunting even for adults that have planned for it. Having been betrothed to Joseph, Mary certainly knew that having children was in her future. But now? Even before she was married?

How many others did Gabriel approach but said, "No. Not me. That's not for me. Go away." Was Mary the only one? We will never know. But it is interesting to think about how special this particular woman was. She is the model for faith, like her ancestor Abraham, who had confidence and trust in God so total that he risked absoultely everything to answer God's call.

Today, the Church asks us to examine our own reponse to the call of God. Each of us, though not asked to become the God-bearer to a broken world, is called to accomplish something for God. Lent is the time when we take the time to search our hearts for what that might be. How willing will we be to say, "Let it be done to me as you say" when we discover what that is?

How Suffering Can Teach

For many years, the well-known Dutch priest and theologian Henri Nouwen pastored the residents and staff of the Daybreak Community in Toronto, Canada. Daybreak is a residential facility for the mentally challenged. The residents face many difficulties: savage inner voices, physical paralysis, epileptic seizures, disordered speech and thinking. The residence is filled with what many of us would conceive as frightening, even repellent, conditions.

Nouwen knew about revulsion. But he also came to know something important: those whose illness is visible teach us about our own brokenness. The residents of Daybreak might have been visily limited, but all of us are limited in one way or another. Often limited by invisible disabilities, we are bound by our secrets every bit as firmly as Nouwen's parishioners were bound by obvious weaknesses. "After years of living with people with mental disabilities," he wrote, "I hae become deeply aware of my own sorrow-filled heart."

Suffering can do one of two things: It can cause us to close down, or it can help us to open up. We close down in a vain attempt to protect ourselves from further pain, but it is a useless attempt. The way of human life is not the avoidance of pain. The way of a truly human life is to move through pain into love, to see ourselves in the suffering of others and others in our own suffering. This is one reason we reflect so carefully upon the passion and death of Christ during the season of Lent. As Isaiah's "Suffering Servant," Jesus shows us a truly human path.

For more on Henri Nouwen, visit www.henrinouwen.org/