With singleness of heart as thy servants and for the common good . . .

That it may please thee the inspire is, in our several callings, to do thy work which thou givest us to do with singleness of heart as thy servants, and for the common good  . . . (The Great Litany, BCP p. 151)

On November 5, 2009, a mass murder took place at For Hood, near Killeen, Texas. Nidal Malik Hasan, a U.S. Army major and psychiatrist, fatally shot 13 people and injured more than 30 others.

Since that dark November day, so many other acts of violence have plagued our land, Sandy Hook, the Navy Yard, school killings too numerous to mention here.

But the 2009 Fort Hood shootings have a particularly cruel irony: a man sworn to do no harm as a physician became a mass murderer.  I wonder if this doctor, whose calling went so terribly astray might himself have been saved – along with the many that were killed and maimed – if he had found the blessing of supportive and honest friends, who could have helped him see the truth, rather than the ideological fanatics by whom he was so deeply influenced, people who located all evil in their common enemy. How things might have been different if he had somehow gained a sense of himself as an individual, apart from this group and its expectations.  I wish that it had been so. I with a heart that passionate and devoted could have spent itself into old age, serving Allah in peace, with the education and skill that were God’s gracious gifts to him, instead of bringing premature death on innocent people through a murderous blaze of hatred and death.

So many of the other perpetrators are, after the fact, described as loners, as people who cut themselves off from others. These are at the extremes, but I wish that all of us had the support we need, the blunt honesty of a caring friend when we need it, the private space for the family and marital and personal intimacies we need. I pray for this, for you and for me. I work for it in my life, and hope that you will, too.  

The Rector's Easter Message

Many years ago, I was engaged in a program that taught catechists (Sunday school teachers) how best to understand how and what they taught their students. In the course of one class discussion, Tom, a middle-aged gentleman, lamented that catechism classes used to be simple. Students memorized the answers to various questions so that when queried by the bishop at their confirmation, they would know the accepted answer.  Familiar with this complaint, I asked the class of adults a simple question: “What is a sacrament?” They looked sheepish and puzzled wondering what answer would be acceptable to me, their mentor. Finally, I said to them, “C’mon! You know the answer . . . a sacrament is an outward sign instituted by Christ . . . .” They all smiled, breathed a sigh of relief, and felt vindicated in their complaint. But then, I asked another question, “All right, now what does that mean?”

Therein is the tough thing about Easter. When asked about Easter, we are eager to repeat what we may have learned: it is the day when we celebrate Christ’s rising from the dead.  Yet the challenge for us is always the next question, “But what does that mean?”

How would you describe the meaning of Easter to a group of young and eager faces? To questioning teens? To adults for which memorized answers no longer suffice?

I think we all approach Easter like the first disciples, in a spirit of confusion and near disbelief.  At first, those who were closest to Jesus failed to understand the meaning behind this glorious miracle. Only later, with the coming of the Spirit of Wisdom and Knowledge, the Spirit of Understanding and Fear of the Lord, did they begin truly to piece it all together.  So, too, we need to piece things together anew – to discover the power and impact of the Resurrection in our individual and communal lives all over again.

So . . . what does it mean for you to share in the risen life of our Savior? What did Christ’s triumph over sin and death do for us here and now? No complex theological answers allowed! Take some time this Eastertide to look at our lives and discover what is different about us because we have been redeemed “by the blood of the Lamb” and invited to share the life of the Risen One.

A tall order, this. For now, though, let us simply bask in the light and rest in the joy that comes to us because of Easter. Let us rejoice in the message that “He is risen. He is risen, indeed!” 

“Be not afraid, the one for whom you look is not here. He is risen and has gone ahead of you . . . “

Let us rise and go to find him with open and joyful hearts.

With every wish for a truly joyous Easter, I remain

David+

The Rev’d Dr. David Alan Zwifka

Rector

The best way out is always through

"The best way out is always through."
                                       -- Robert Frost

While the quote is Robert Frost, the focus is on Christ. Recall the garden of Gethsemane. "Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." We can relate. A long, difficult road may lay before us -- a relationship that is breaking down -- a diagnosis of dementia in a loved one -- a terminal disease -- loss of a career because of "down-sizing". All of it is somehow connected with dread expressed by Jesus as he clearly saw his fate that Thursday evening so long ago.

We can pray earnestly with him, "Let this cup pass from me." Yet, our entreaties seem unanswered . . . or are they. 

Perhaps the answer isn't one we really want to here. We would prefer to hear, "OK. Forget about it," but it seldom if ever happens that way. Rather the dread deepens, the difficulties, struggles, and suffering become more poignant to the point when we think we, like Jesus, are sweating blood. Yet, even as the situation progresses, are prayers are being answered. 

"The best way out is always through."

If the cup of suffering had passed from Jesus, there would have been no resurrection, no definitive event to mark God's ultimate triumph over sin and death. 

"The best way out is always through."

Each time we face extraordinary difficulties, we are challenged in a way similar to Jesus in the garden. We are tempted to beg God to take away the difficulty, make it easier, lighter, or non-existent. But if our prayers were answered, we would not find out how strong we are in God's grace. We would not discover the spirit at work in the healing of our hearts. We would not discover the immense support of family and friends when time are hard. 

Jesus' dread was deep and complete. It was about giving up his life. He understands fully the suffering and dread of human beings. Confident of that understanding, we face our suffering knowing full well that we have an Advocate that is always near us to give us strength and lead us to peace. 

Hosanna! Son of David

Palm Sunday is quick upon us. In many churches worship begins with a retelling of the entrance of Jesus into the holy city of Jerusalem. In this “triumphal” procession he is acclaimed as the Son of David, a term that clearly means, King of the Jews.

The liturgy of the day, however, quickly turns its attention away from such effusive affirmations and toward the rather somber remembrance of the Lord’s passion and death. Was Jesus still a king? That’s a question only we can answer.

What kind of king are you looking for?

Traditionally, kings were seen as an embodiment of the people over which they ruled. Thus, an attack on the king was an attack on the people. In the Scriptural portrayal, this embodiment is a two way street: when the king turns from God, the people often pay the price, and, when the people turn from God, their king suffers.

In Jesus day, the title, Son of David, clearly aligned Jesus with the first dynastic king of Israel. David, the mythic king, was far from perfect but was always seen as favored of God. Thus, someone truly of David’s line, would bring prosperity and victory over oppressors. Perhaps this is the kind of king the folk of Jerusalem saw riding in on an ass. However, circumstances proved otherwise. Jesus was the king who suffered not because of his own wrongdoing but because of the waywardness of God’s people – a people who valued power and wealth and political freedom over matters of the heart and matters of true justice.

The year of Jubilee proclaimed by Jesus at the beginning of his ministry fell woefully short of its promise at the end. For all of his work and teaching, society remained much unchanged and, perhaps, even more recalcitrant than when he started. He proved not to be the king of “power and might” as was his father David, but the king of inward change . . . a king of hearts and minds.

What kind of king are you looking for?

Is the king we look for the one who will vindicate us or is the king we look for the servant king that accomplishes change by the sheer force of example? Is the king we search for one that will bring us prosperity or is this king a king of service and justice?

What kind of king are you looking for?

How shall we answer as our Holy Week begins?

Worship - A Life or Death Matter

As part of our Lenten program, I have the good fortune to host a Bible study series using the Morehouse “Embracing series”. This program features renowned Scripture scholar and preacher, Walter Bruggemann and focuses on the prophets and contemporary culture.

In the first segment, Bruggemann states that for the prophets, worship is a life or death matter. He observes that through the centuries, we have “narcoticized” our liturgies removing any sense of provocation.

“Life or death matter.” What would happen in our congregations if we actually treated our worship in that way. Not in the sense that every rubric must be followed precisely (although that’s not a bad idea) but that we begin to worship like there is something genuinely at stake. The way most Chrsitan churches worship today, observers may experience our worship and quickly conclude, “There’s nothing important going on here. We’ll just go through the motions one more time.”

To worship in this manner requires us to realize that we are as much enslaved to the culture in which we live as the Israelites were enslave to Pharaoh. What is at stake in our worship is the liberation of a people. God calls us to a continuing critique of our lives, the culture in which we live them, and our response to the transformative love of Christ.

“What difference does it make?” Is our worship like being on narcotics or, as Annie Dillard says, a true understanding of Christian worship would urge us to wear crash helmets!

Sometimes Life Just Sucks

. . . and we have to deal with it.  That may have been something the prophet Jeremiah said. Jeremiah truly had a hard time of it. 

Jeremiah, son of Hilkiah the priest, most likely had a fairly happy childhood. As part of a respected family, he probably experienced deference and a comfortable living. However, as he grew and came to experience a prophetic call, this life would become a fond memory, worth of nostalgic longing.  Perhaps, it was because he had this positive experience and lost it in the course of his faithful ministry, his lamentations over the decline and defeat of Israel became even more profound. His diatribes against the infidelity of Judah as they turned once again to the worship of idols are strong and clearly stinging indictments. In fact, they may seem at times to be downright vitriolic. This brought many of the naysayers among his listeners to plot against him and even to bring physical harm and maybe even death. Even his priestly kin were drawn in. And when God assures Jeremiah that he will be protected, God tells him in essence, "If you think it's bad now, just wait!"

When you’re feeling like Jeremiah, you might have the urge to lash out at someone, even if they had nothing to do with your feelings. Here are some ideas that might stop you from blowing up and help you get to a happier place.

• Get informed. Once you figure out what might be causing you to feel badly, you can do something about it. Many resources exist to help you find information on tons of different issues, including depression, family and relationships. Look for suggestions on how to manage your feelings and where you can get help.
• Talk to someone. Talking to someone you feel comfortable with, like a friend, teacher, parent or counselor, can be a great way of expressing your feelings. These people might also be able to help you identify why you are feeling bad and work out strategies for dealing with it.
• Chill out. Sometimes getting some space away from what is making you feel this way or a change of scenery can be helpful. This might include going for a walk or listening to your favorite music, reading a book, going to the movies, or whatever works for you.
• Express your feelings. Writing down your feelings or keeping a journal can be a great way of understanding your current emotions in a particular situation. It can also help you come up with alternative solutions to problems. Express your feelings in a way that won’t cause bodily damage to yourself or another person.  Try yelling or crying into a pillow, dancing around the room to loud music or punching a pillow. I often turn on some dramatic classical music and conduct the orchestra with all the might I can muster.
• Get creative. Find things to do to distract yourself from feeling bad and that get you thinking creatively. This can include drawing a picture, writing a poem, or playing a game. Even though you might not feel like it at first, even a little creativity might be enough to shift your mood.
• Take care of yourself. Feeling bad may be your body telling you it needs to take time out, and pushing yourself physically might just make things worse. Take time out to spoil yourself by doing something that you usually enjoy. Even though you might not feel like it, exercising and eating well can help. Getting plenty of sleep is important, too.
• Reconnect with God. More often than not, we find that these bad feelings can get overwhelming when we drift away from our relationship with God. As bad as things got for Jeremiah, his connection to God was the means by which he saw his way clear. 

I can't say with any confidence that any of these things would have made Jeremiah feel better about his plight. I can say that they have worked for me and have helped me overcome some very dark days.

The By-stander Effect

Faith Rowold recently reflected on a phenomenon that social psychologists describe as the "by-stander effect": the more people around a situation that requires action, the less likely anyone is to actually respond. Researchers seek reasons why this happens but it might be reduced to simply thinking that "someone else will do it."

Someone else will give the guy on the corner something to eat. Someone else will organize the yard sale for the parish. Someone else will visit the lonely looking lady that sits in the back pew.

But Scripture call us out by asking, "Why are you waiting to show mercy? Why are you waiting to lend a helping hand?

How often do we think that help will come from some other external source? When we do that, we forget the simple truth that we are literally the "body" of Christ: we are God's hands on earth. Only through us can God show others that they are loved by the God who loves us.

Christ has no body but yours,No hands, no feet on earth but yours,Yours are the eyes with which he looksCompassion on this world,Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,Yours are the eyes, you are his body.Christ has no body now but yours,No hands, no feet on earth but yours,Yours are the eyes with which he lookscompassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
                               --Theresa of Avila