Disconnected Despite the Progress

I've not kept up with my hope to post each day (or almost). A big reason for this is that I'm not particularly disciplined when it comes to keeping a journal, whether electronic or not. Another reason is simply the reality of keeping up with the fullness of life while trying to stay connected with what is going on in Anaheim at General Convention. I have a parish to manage, people to care for, a family that includes two teenagers and a new puppy, and several evening commitments (my son's baseball games). Beyond that, there simply seems to be too much to keep up with at Convention. I can't quite imagine how the deputies and bishops get through it all.

What strikes me as most central in my struggle to find time to blog is a rather apathetic view toward the convention. I know this triennial gathering is important and I know decisions made there impact my parish and me. However, so much of what I read feels like something that is great for the insiders but not necessarily a highlight for those of us at home.

I had a conversation this morning with a young woman who was in Anaheim for the first few days of convention. One of her observations struck me. She is in her mid-20s. From her perspective, most of the people there were "old." Now, she is not trying to say they are out of touch or over the hill. Her point was that she suspected many of those participating were retired because they are the ones who can give up all of this personal time to be there. Laity who work need to give up about 2 weeks of vacation to participate. She also observed that there did not seem to be a lot of people who were new to all of this, that a lot of deputies appeared to have been at several conventions.

This leads me to wonder about the people whose voices are not heard in the central gathering of the Episcopal Church. Where are the voices of . . .

• the young adults who are hard to find in the pews of our churches
• the laborers who couldn't conceive of giving up two weeks of vacation (if they even get any) to attend such an event
• the people who participate faithfully in a local Episcopal congregation but have no particular loyalty to the Episcopal Church
• the unchurched and "no longer going to church" who don't care what we do or feel that what the church offers is not relevant to their lives

All of this brings me to these questions:

• Are our structures and our polity truly inclusive?
• Are we willing to listen to the voices of those who stand on the margins? (and by that I mean the margins that we don't see well, not the ones that we talk about all the time)
• Is the way the church is structured an obstacle to engagement and invitation?

I'm not denying the importance or necessity of General Convention. I simply ponder what it means that I, as a priest with good reasons to pay attention, feel disconnected. If I am not sure how much of this is relevant, what are others thinking?

Having written all of that, I will at least express hope in one item of legislation to come out of General Convention. Resolution D025 has been adopted by both the House of Bishops and the House of Deputies. In short, this resolution affirms that ordination is available to anyone in the church through the discernment process outlined in the Constitution and Canons of the church while also affirming our desire as a denomination to be a part of the Anglican Communion. What does this mean? That all baptized Christians can be ordained, if the process they follow is aligned with the canons of the church. The moratorium on gays and lesbians being elected and consecrated as bishops, which began at the convention in 2006, has been lifted. This is a huge step toward full hospitality and inclusion.

While much of what happens at convention may seem disconnected from congregational life, this is something that is very much connected to who we are as a church. If nothing else comes out of convention, this is something to celebrate.

So, yes, I feel disconnected. But I still celebrate the progress.

Unity and Hospitality

The headline in the July 11 Convention Daily reads, Restraint, or welcome by the Episcopal Church? Several articles the Daily discuss issues surrounding community and the church. How can we be a united body when we disagree? Are there limits to our hospitality? Who is welcomed and who is not? Who decides?

While much of the discussion at General Convention surrounds the inclusion of gays and lesbians in the church (especially focused on the consecration of bishops) these are not the only people who struggle to be fully included. There is an article about young adults finding their place and voice in the church and another about the consent of the newly elected Bishop of Central Ecuador.

For all of the legislation that is being discussed and adopted at General Convention, the most important discussions happening over the 10 days of convention are the ones about issues that are difficult, if not impossible, to legislate. How open and inclusive will we be? What lines will be drawn? Can we be both inclusive -- allowing for the diversity that creates -- and unified?

The Rt. Rev. Barbara Harris, the first consecrated woman bishop in the Episcopal Church, asked this question in her sermon during the Integrity Eucharist on July 10: "What right does anyone have to draw lines beyond to whom God's grace, care, and favor extend?" I believe she gets at the heart of the tension here. Who has the right? Who draws the lines? And where are the lines drawn, if at all? Do we draw them at ordination? Do we draw them at baptism?

Richard Hooker, the 16th century Anglican priest and theologian, wrote that there were two churches, the invisible and the visible. The invisible church is the one only God can see for only God can look truly into our hearts to see who is faithful. The visible church is the one we can see. Since we are not able to see into people's hearts and souls, we must be as open and comprehensive as possible, making sure the boundaries of the church are as wide as they can be. Since we are not God, we are not the ones who can close the doors and put up the fences that separate us.

Hospitality and welcome are risky. To be truly open means that we must accept and welcome those who differ from us. It means we must accept others as our brothers and sisters in Christ, not based on agreement or similarity but on our common faith in Jesus. Unity, then, comes out of our relationship through Christ, not out of our agreement and similarity.

I'm not sure what will come out of convention, but I hope that in the midst of our congregational life we can open wide our doors and our hearts. Let's not try to be God by drawing the lines of what and who is acceptable. Let's practice love and hospitality, not by drawing lines but by creating openings in the boundaries so all those who seek God's grace, care, and favor can find it with us.

Ubuntu and Non Sibi

An email I received in response to my last post about ubuntu reminded me of the philosophy of non sibi, a core value of Phillips Exeter Academy. My wife works at Exeter and my son recently graduated after four successful years there. Several members of Christ Church are faculty, staff, parents, or students. In that sense, Exeter has had a profound influence on the life of my family and community.

As explained on the Exeter website, non sibi is included in the school's seal (I've put the seal here, though it is hard to see the words): "Across the sun, symbolizing the rising sun over the sea of knowledge, is 'Non Sibi, or 'Not for Oneself,' testifying to the philosophy at Exeter that the wisdom gained here should be used for others as well as for oneself."

We live in a world too often defined by the "Bernie Madoff's" of society, those who seek only their own gain at the expense of others. We need more non sibi practiced in society, more people who think not only of themselves but they take seriously the idea that "the wisdom gained here should be used for others . . ."

I think one of the reasons I have found General Convention so uninteresting in the past is that so much of what happens there seems disconnected from life in the world and in the congregation. In many ways, it seems like a lot of "navel gazing," an internal focus on the church and the church's agenda without a real sense of focus on how we live out the call to share the compassion, peace, grace, and love of Jesus with the world.

Perhaps ubuntu can help us to reshape our understanding of community, give us a new vision of who we can be, so that we can be a part of reshaping the world to conform more closely to God's desires for creation. Perhaps we can learn from other communities, such as Exeter, so that we can consider not the church's agenda for itself but God's agenda for the world.

What might the world look like if we live by ubuntu and non sibi? I hope the wisdom gained from General Convention can be used for others as well as for ourselves.

General Convention and Ubuntu

The 76th General Convention of the Episcopal Church began this week in Anaheim, California. I will admit that following Convention in the past has not been high on my priority list. Often, from my perspective, the work of this triennial convention does not seem to have a huge direct impact on me outside of a few particular issues (for example, the consent of General Convention to the election of Bishop Robinson in 2003 clearly impacted my ministry and the life of my parish community).

This year, I'm going to try to pay a bit more attention to what is going on. To help keep me disciplined, I thought I'd make some blog entries giving my "home front" perspective on what is happening 3,000 miles away. We'll see how this goes and whether I can keep up some sort of daily (or almost daily) discipline -- not only to blog about convention but to read from the multiple resources available online to learn what is going on!

The theme of General Convention is ubuntu, an African concept of interdependence and community. It can be summed up in the phrase on the convention logo, "I in you and you in me." Presding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori spoke about ubuntu in her opening address to the convention on July 7. With strong language, she called into question “great Western heresy—that we can be saved as individuals, that any of us alone can be in right relationship with God.” It is this cultural focus on the individual that is at the root of so many of our struggles today both in the nation and in the world.

In contrast to this, ubuntu reminds us that we are stronger together. "I can only become a whole person in relationship with others,” Jefferts Schori said. “There is no I without you and in our context, you and I are known only as we reflect the image of the one who created us." We were created not to be isolated creatures, but to live and work together in community. As it says in the first chapter of the book of Genesis: "So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." Together we are the image of God.

The challenge that Jefferts Schori is offering the convention is less about legislative decisions and more about how we will live, work, and minister together. What kind of church will we be? What sort of people will we be? Will we be looking after our own needs and listening only to our own perspectives? Or will we listen to others, especially those who are different from us, in order to reflect the diversity of God's creation and promise?

Desmond Tutu, for whom unbuntu stands at the heart of his life and work, wrote:

In God’s family, there are no outsiders. All are insiders. Black and white, rich and poor, gay and straight, Jew and Arab, Palestinian and Israeli, Roman Catholic and Protestant, Serb and Albanian, Hutu and Tutsi, Muslim and Christian, Buddhist and Hindu, Pakistani and Indian – all belong. . . . God’s dream wants us to be brothers and sisters, wants us to be family. . . . In our world we can survive only together. We can be truly free, ultimately, only together. We can be human only together, black and white, rich and poor, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Jew. (Desmond Tutu, God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time as quoted in Diana Butlter Bass's book, Christianity for the Rest of Us)

That is an expansive sense of community, to say the least!

Living by ubuntu will be quite a challenge during a 10-day legislative session in a time in which there are deep divisions in the church about our understanding of authority, human sexuality, and interpretation of scripture and church canons. We can only pray that the presiding bishop can lead the church into a new cultural understanding of and appreciation for our need to be an interdependent body of Christ.

The challenge for those of us at home is to make ubuntu a reality in our local communities and congregations. How might we do that? How might we live and work so that we manifest God's promises and hopes for creation and human community?

Stripping the Altar at Home for Holy Week

Today is Good Friday. Being the middle of the day, the time when scripture says that Jesus was crucified, it is quiet. The church is open for silent prayer (our liturgy is in the evening). A couple of people have come for reconciliation. The church office is now closed for the weekend. The phone is not ringing. Except for the choral music I am playing from iTunes, it is quiet.

This is one of my favorite times in Holy Week. I appreciate the quiet of Good Friday afternoon, a break from the busyness of the Holy Week preparations. All of the liturgy booklets are done, we've experience the Sunday of the Passion and Maundy Thursday, and the fullness of preparations for the Great Vigil is still almost 24 hours away.

Last night, during the Maundy Thursday liturgy I had one of those frighteningly intense experiences that come rarely. I was feeling particularly uninspired throughout the day as I prepared my sermon. I was definitely not happy with what I had to offer. Perhaps it was that discontent that allowed me to be open to the Spirit, to abandon my plans and allow another to speak through me.

Before the liturgy began I was standing in a corner of the church, a corner I never stand in. From that vantage point, I could see outside through the windows of the church. I saw two women taking a walk on a beautiful spring evening, apparently oblivious to the fact that we were gathering for worship in Holy Week. I then looked at the congregation, smaller than in the past for this liturgy, and I began to wonder if what we were doing had any real connection to the lives of people in the parish and in the community. I began to think that possibly we had this all wrong, doing this ritual and worship in the church. Perhaps we are supposed to do this in a way that connects with our lives. Isn't that what the Incarnation (God becoming flesh in Jesus) is all about anyway, the divine connecting with our daily lives?

I then thought about Passover, that it had begun the evening before. For Passover, Jewish families do not go to the synagogue but spend that first night at home, around the table, sharing a sacred meal and sacred rituals at home. They might invite friends and family over. Whoever is there, the ritual occurs in a normal, daily place -- the family table. In this way, Passover -- the ancient festival that celebrates Israel's deliverance by God from slavery in Egypt -- becomes connected to the daily lives of those who participate.

Is it possible that Christians have gotten it wrong over the centuries? Is it possible that we've so associated our ancient rituals with "going to church" that they've lost any connection to our daily lives? If so, perhaps this explains to some extent why we are losing our "memory," our collective connection to the stories and rituals that remind us who we are and who God is in our lives.

As Maundy Thursday reminds us, we participate in these rituals so we can remember. "Do this in remembrance of me," Jesus says. To remember in this way is not simply to be reminded, but to bring into the present that which happened in the past. When we remember, we are reconnected with the divine promise and can find the hope and faith that sustain our lives.

What might happen if we took the Holy Week rituals and did them at home? What might happen if, instead of decorating for Easter, we stripped our tables as we strip the altar; if we washed the feet of each other at home (or some equivalent act of service; if we put up the stations of the cross throughout our homes to remind us in every room of Jesus' journey to death? What might happen if we waited to decorate for Easter late Saturday night or early Sunday morning? What if we got up at dawn on Sunday and only then welcomed Easter with a spring table cloth and flowers and decorated eggs?

Might we become more connected to the realities of what Holy Week is about? Might all of this become more connected to our daily lives? Might we experience more closely Jesus' sacrifice? Might we embrace Easter more fully? Might we remember more clearly who we are and what God has done for us through Jesus?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it seems worth a try. It is clear to me that society around us, and even many of the people who sit in the pews on Sundays, are disconnecting from the story and the rituals we've practiced for two millennia. If we don't find a way to reconnect them to God through the stories, we will move even closer to a sort of Christian amnesia.

So, this Good Friday, take Jesus home with you. Strip away Easter for 36-48 hours. Let your homes be as barren as the altar at church, stripped of all ornamentation until Easter. Stay in the quiet and remember, remember that God loves us enough to die that we might live.

I'm guessing if we do this, Easter will be that much more glorious.

Apples to Apples in the Dark: The Side Benefits of Earth Hour

Earth Hour just ended on the East Coast. Throughout the world today homes, businesses, and cities have turned out their lights from 8:30 to 9:30 PM wherever they are in the world. The purpose, of course, is to raise awareness of the need to reduce our energy usage so we can take better care of our planet. I'm not sure how effective this sort of thing is, but it feels good to participate in a global event.

Perhaps the best part of this was the opportunity to spend an hour playing a game with my family. Now that Earth Hour is over we have each gone on to our separate "activities" (computer, TV, etc.). For that hour, however, without the benefit of lights (and choosing not to use computers and watch TV) we let go of the usual distractions to have some fun together.

Maybe that's as good a lesson as any from this experience. The power that consumes precious and non-renewable resources on our planet can also consume time and energy that we might otherwise spend together as families and communities. Technology provides so much that is positive, and I would not want to give up any of it. But occasionally "fasting" from all of it provides the opportunity for simpler joys in life.

Candlelight and a game of Apples to Apples provided an hour of laughter, conversation, time together, and, I suspect, some good memories. That is worth an hour in the dark. Reducing our carbon footprint a tiny bit at the same time makes the experience all the better.

Thanks be to God!

Can We Embody the Compassion of Jesus Without being Political?

The other day I participated in an ecumenical breakfast meeting with some of the local clergy. The clergy association, if one can even call it that, is very informal and does not gather much in Exeter. A primary challenge for us is a theological divide between mainline churches and evangelical churches. Most of my interactions are with the pastors and people of the Congregational Church (UCC) and the Unitarian-Universalist Society. The breakfast was a good event and showed some promise for how we might find some common ministries in which a broader group of churches could be involved.

As a follow-up to the meeting one of the pastors sent an email invitation to all of the clergy asking us to attend a meeting next month with our state senator. I'm not sure that I will attend, but only because the meeting falls on my sabbath day, a day I try to reserve for rest and recreation. Having told the other pastor I might not attend, I did not think any more about it.

I was surprised the next day to read an email from yet another pastor declining the invitation because one characteristic of her denominations covenant of ordination is that pastors will not be involved in politics or use the pulpit to endorse political candidates or directions. This surprises me not because of the commitment of a pastor to stay out of politics but because I do not see the meeting with the state senator as involvement in politics or endorsing a politician. For me, this is a way for clergy to stay connected to the systems of power in our state that influence the lives of our congregations and our members.

My intention is not to be critical. I respect this pastor's feelings and I agree completely that clergy should not make political endorsements (the IRS would agree with this, also!). I bring this up because it raises questions for me about the role of the church in society.

• Is there a difference between involvement in politics and partnership with political leaders to explore and deal with systemic issues?
• Am I being political if I speak out against injustice?
• Can I effectively proclaim the presence of the reign of God in the world without engaging political processes?
• Does the separation of church and state mean that the church needs to stay out of the state or does it mean that the state is supposed to give the church freedom to express and live out its beliefs and values?
• Is it truly possible to separate religion and politics?

I am not a particularly political person. I don't participate in campaigns and I don't endorse candidates. Although I am a registered Democrat that is only because I want to vote in primaries. I prefer to think of myself as an independent. I don't encourage people to vote one way or the other for candidates or issues. I would never preach a sermon that endorses any one person or issue.

For many years I believed that clergy should be pastoral, not political. But over the past few years I've come to a new perspective. I believe that congregations need to work for a purpose larger than themselves, for a common good that impacts the needs of society as a whole. This mission would be impossible if we failed to participate in conversations and actions in the political realm?

We are called not simply to announce God's reign. Christians are called to embody it as Jesus did. Is it possible to be the Body of Christ in the world without being political? Isn't being political really about how we interact with power and authority to bring about justice? Are we not called to meet that power and authority with compassion, grace, peace, and love?

Every denomination, every congregation, and every pastor needs to answer these questions as seems best for them. It is not my place to say which answer are right and which are wrong. As an Episcopalian whose denomination has a long tradition of bridging the religious and the political worlds, I believe we must participate in the political conversation. The church can not stay silent in the face of hunger, poverty, homelessness, and other issues of injustice in our world. Religion can not be a purely private endeavor in a world that yearns for meaning, compassion, and wholeness.

Sabbath day or not, perhaps I'll participate in that meeting next month. I want to make sure I'm a part of the conversation.

Global Warming and God's Covenant with Creation

At Christ Church, one of our parish commitments for Lent both in 2008 and 2009 has been to look for ways that we can be better stewards of the environment. In my sermon on the First Sunday in Lent (March 1) I focused on Lent has a season in which we seek to renew the covenant God created not only with humanity but also with all living creatures. This covenant with all of creation is made clear in Genesis 9:8-17. Notice how many times in a few verses God refers to creatures other than humans.

God said to Noah and to his sons with him, "As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth." God said, "This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth." God said to Noah, "This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth."

So, how do we renew this covenant and our interdependence with God's creation? At Christ Church we are collecting ideas for what individuals and families have done, continue to do, or will do to take better care of our planet. Understanding our stewardship for creation as a way of re-establishing our covenant with God helps us to understand that reducing our carbon footprint is not simply a social action to reduce global warming. It is also a faithful action of partnership with our Creator to bring wholeness to our home. Simple steps such as changing to compact fluorescent light bulbs, lowering your thermostat to save energy use in winter, walking instead of driving, reducing use of plastic bags, and increasing the amount you recycle become acts of love for creation.

Here's something else you can do. I just signed up to participate in Earth Hour on March 28. Earth Hour began in 2007 when 2.2 million homes and businesses in Sydney, Australia turned off their lights for one hour. In 2008, the movement went global with 50 million homes and businesses in the world turning off their lights for one hour. This year, the goal is for 1 billion people to participate. Earth Hour this year will be on March 28 from 8:30-9:30 PM (in whatever time zone you are in, I believe).

Why not add your name to the list and participate? Go to www.earthhour.org for more information. It's a simple action, really, and it won't make a great deal of practical difference for global warming. But symbolically it is a way we can act globally to make a difference. This is one way we can stretch our community boundaries in order to work interdependently for a common good.

So, what are you doing to reduce your carbon footprint, to renew the divine covenant with God and all of creation? Or what action will you take for Lent and beyond? Leave a comment and share your ideas and actions. The more ideas we share the more we can learn from each other and the bigger difference we can make.

Finding the New Commons in the Congregation

This post is adapted from a recent column I wrote for the newsletter of Christ Church in Exeter, New Hampshire.

As I write this I’m sitting in rehearsal for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. This was Christ Church's third annual Youth Theatre production. I had the privilege of being a part of the cast this year. Another adult and I have shared the parts of Jacob and Pharaoh. I can not put into words what a joy and inspiration it has been to share this experience with the youth and adults (about 170 volunteers in all) who made this production possible.

Over the past few months I have spent a great deal of time writing and talking about the church as a “new commons.” While this has been the primary focus of my doctoral thesis (which has taken so much time I've not been posting much in my blog!), it has also been a part of Christ Church's discussions about our identity and mission as a parish community. For a fuller description of the “new commons” you can see read my annual address to the parish from the annual meeting (you will find a link online at www.christchurchexeter.org).

Participating in Joseph, I have come to realize that our youth theater ministry is a perfect example of a new commons. It exhibits what I believe are the six essential characteristics of the new commons.

• Through their work together to prepare a show the cast and crew created opportunities for conversation and connection that bind them together in transformed relationships.
• These relationships deepen trust and agency – through this deepened trust they empower each other to offer their best for the good of the whole.
• While there are well-defined boundaries, the ministry is inclusive, welcoming a wide range of people to participate in virtually infinite ways.
• Diversity is a hallmark of the youth theater community. Only a little over 25% of the cast comes from Christ Church. The youth who participate represent a variety of faith communities in the Exeter area. Some of them do not participate in any faith community at all. Yet all are welcome and valued.
• For several weeks they have worked interdependently. I have listened as the director and musical director have solicited the ideas of the cast and put them into the show. I have seen crew members find solutions to challenges in the sets and costumes. This is a community in which each person’s gifts are honored, valued, and incorporated into the whole.
• Finally, they are working for a common good, a good beyond themselves. Joseph reached out into the community in ways that are impossible to measure. People have been touched and changed. The youth themselves have been transformed in ways we cannot imagine or predict, but ways that will impact the common good of our society for years to come.

This ministry is but a microcosm of Christ Church. It represents the best of who this parish is and what it can do in the world. This ministry helps us to see what congregational mission and purpose can be, the reason God has placed the church in the world. Imagine what might happen if we applied the same creativity and energy to all of our communities. Imagine what might happen if, instead of focusing on polity and property, we focused on fostering these six characteristics in the church as a whole. How might we be transformed? What a difference might we make in the name of Jesus?

A Faithful Response to a Recession

This is a column I wrote for the January edition of "The Anchor," the monthly newsletter for Christ Church, Exeter, New Hampshire. It seems fitting to post it here.

Unless we have our heads buried in the ground (a hard thing to do during the winter in New Hampshire!) we know that the economic challenges facing our nation are serious. We are living in a recession, perhaps the worst economic struggle since the Great Depression in the 1930s. People across the nation and the world are frightened, anxious, and uncertain.

Christ Church, like so many other congregations, is not immune from this. Endowment income will be down this year and, understandably given the economy, so will pledges. We are going to have to sustain ministry with less money. And I suspect it may get harder before it gets better.

So, what do we do, as individuals, as families, and as a parish community? I’m not an economist or a financial planner, so I cannot offer practical advice. So, let me offer three things we can do as Christians in the midst of challenging economic times. These ideas will not make us more economically secure, but they may serve to transform us and those in our community.

Express Gratitude – If you have food in your refrigerator, clothes in your closet, a bed to sleep in, and a roof over your head, you are richer than approximately 75% of the rest of the world. Over 50% of the world’s population lives on the equivalent of $2.00 per day. We live in a society that always tells us that we need more. Isn’t this the perfect time to appreciate what we have and to express our gratitude to God?

Pastor and theologian Brian McLaren says that expressing gratitude is an act of defiance. When we are grateful, we accept and appreciate what we have instead of focusing on what we do not have. When we express gratitude, we defy the messages and advertisements that tell us our lives are defined by the things we accumulate. We define our lives by our blessings, not our losses. What difference might that make in the way we see the world and live in it?

Give Generously – This may seem counter-intuitive, but if anything, this is a time to be more generous, to share our abundance with those who need it the most. The need of those who live on the economic and social margins is growing at the same time that the resources available to help them are decreasing. To give generously requires us to decide what we really need in our lives and to share in whatever way we can. In an article I read recently the author encouraged readers to “Give your passion. Give your time. Give your skills. And, if you still can, give your money.” New Hampshire ranks near the bottom of the United States in per capita charitable giving at the same time we rank near the top in per capita income. There’s no better time than an economic crisis to change that.

Live with Hope – Catholic theologian Walter Burghardt wrote this in 1982: “You must be men and women of ceaseless hope, because only tomorrow can today’s human and Christian promise be realized; and every tomorrow will have its own tomorrow, world without end. Every human act, every Christian act, is an act of hope. But that means you must be men and women of the present, you must live this moment – really live it, not just endure it – because this very moment, for all its imperfection and frustration, because of its imperfection and frustration, is pregnant with all sorts of possibilities, is pregnant with the future, is pregnant with love, is pregnant with Christ.”

We live in difficult and challenging times. Yet the light of Christ continues to shine. Let it shine through you. Be the light that illuminates the darkness. Express gratitude. Give generously. Live with hope. Be the presence of Christ in the world.