Self-Expansion or Common Enterprise?

"We're an overconfident species." So writes columnist David Brooks in The Modesty Manifesto printed in this past Friday's New York Times.

He goes on to write that "there's abundant evidence to suggest that we have shifted from a culture that emphasized self-effacement -- I'm no better than anyone else, but nobody is better than me -- to a culture that emphasizes self-expansion."

This is possibly, he believes, a reason for some of our current problems in the United States. We have so inflated our sense of self, so fallen into narcissism, that political leaders are no longer motivated to listen to those who disagree with them, making it nearly impossible to reach the sort of compromise, let alone consensus, that allows us to make the difficult decisions that will have a long-term impact on the United States.

"Citizenship, after all," he writes, "is built on an awareness that we are not all that special but are, instead, enmeshed in a common enterprise."

I think Brooks is on to something here that speaks directly to a central challenge for congregational life in these early years of the 21st century. We in the church are trying to create religious communities in an age in which people are looking for personal spiritual fulfillment. In other words, it seems to me that so often people seek a church because they are yearning for self-expansion.

Understand, please, that I'm not being critical. Too many people have been hurt or pushed down by the church, their schools, or some other institution (or even their families). As Jesus did with the woman who committed adultery (see John 8:2-11) we need to lift people up, proclaiming to them that they are not condemned but loved. There are a lot of people out there who need some healthy self-expansion.

Yet didn't Jesus invite us to give up our selves and follow him? Are we not inviting people into a divine community, into a religious citizenship that is, to use Brooks' words, "enmeshed in a common enterprise"? To create this community, don't we need to invite people to look beyond their own personal fulfillment to work for the fulfillment of the whole? And is it not true that, paradoxically, each of us finds our truest sense of fulfillment when we give our selves over to the Jesus we experience and make manifest together?

So, it's Lent and for those of us who gathered at church on Ash Wednesday, we've been invited "to the observance of a holy Lent, by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God's holy Word" (Book of Common Prayer, p. 265).

There's a lot of "self" in that invitation, but somehow I'm thinking that all of this spiritual "work" I'm supposed to do during Lent is not supposed to be all about me, that it's not all about my personal relationship with Jesus.

What might happen if, during Lent, we focused on our relationships with both Jesus and each other, if we focused on our "common enterprise." That might even lead to some transformation, an expansion not simply of the self but of the community.

I'm thinking that -- perhaps -- that could be just what Jesus wanted.

Peter Gomes: Authentic and Faithful Disciple

The Rev. Peter Gomes, the Plummer Professor of Christian Morals and the Pusey Minister in the Memorial Church at Harvard University, died this past Monday, February 28. This is a tremendous loss for the Harvard community, but I believe also for the church in the United States.

I did not know Gomes. I never met him and never heard him preach (though I wish I had). I've read one of his books and know I should read more.

There are a variety of places you can read about his life and achievements: on the Harvard Divinity School website, on Wikipedia, and in obituaries in the New York Times and the Boston Globe.

I want to share one quote I read in the paper this morning. In 1996 Gomes said this in an interview with the Boston Globe:

"[My mother] always told me that I must invent my own reality. Reality will not conform to you. You must invent your own and then conform to it. So I did. I am an authentic and an original . . . I will not allow myself to be known simply as an African American, no more than I would allow myself to be known as gay or conservative. They are all bits and pieces of a work in progress. I am a child of God."

Wouldn't it be nice if we could all live with this sort of authenticity? What might the world look like if we had enough security to live as fully and courageously as the people God created us to be? What might the world look like if we all recognize and admit that we are works in progress? What might the world look like if we could see each person we meet as a child of God instead of the through the lens of our own reality and perspective?

This, I believe, is the essence of what we are called to create as leaders of Christian communities. We need to create communities that invite people to discover who they are as children of God. And once they have discovered this (or begun to see themselves as works in progress), we need to be communities that support and equip people to live authentically and faithfully at home, at school, at work, and in their neighborhoods and communities.

Isn't this why the church exists? Isn't this why Jesus told us to go forth and make disciples?

Thank you, Peter Gomes, for living your authentic and faithful life so publicly for the rest of us. May you rest in peace.

Who are We Serving?

Easter is late this year so we're still a long way from Ash Wednesday. That means there's only one thing to call this time of year: it's parochial report season! If you don't know what a parochial report is, consider yourself fortunate. Parochial reports are annual reports to the Episcopal Church and dioceses that every congregation needs to fill out. They measure . . . what exactly?

OK, they measure how many members a church has, how many people (on average) attend each Sunday, and how much money your congregation has.

And this data means . . . what exactly?

What it means most years is that the Episcopal Church is a declining church. I don't have any numbers since 2008, but assuming the trends have been followed in 2009 and 2010 we continue to be a shrinking church.

And yet to put it that way is to assume that our congregations are not vital, that we have no faith and are simply struggling to survive. I suspect this is true in more congregations than we want to admit, but I also know that many are vital in ways that aren't easily measured. And I'm willing to bet that the vital ones are focused more on Jesus than on parochial reports.

I'm a subscriber to a congregational development group on Yahoo. I will admit that a lot of days go by when I don't read the posts. But I opened the email today and was immediately challenged. A diocesan staff person in North Dakota had asked about what to do about tiny churches (really tiny, with 10 people coming on Sunday morning). Should they be closed? Should they try to change? I found the response from a woman in Wisconsin fascinating (I'm editing a bit to give some context and not quote the entire post).

"The struggle [is] trusting the leadership -- of members asking themselves and each other -- Who do those people in the collars want to serve, who are they going to serve? Are they serving themselves? Are they serving God? Are they serving us? Are they serving others? Whoa -- the people in the collars and in the positions of authoriy and leadership do not have it easy -- because the motivations of their hearts are always being judged by people while being moved by God in Christ."

I appreciate her empathy but I'm challenged by her questions. As one of those "people in the collars," who am I serving? Is my biggest concern average Sunday attendance or is it proclaiming the gospel and making disciples? And if it's the latter, is it really possible to measure success?

Who are we serving? I believe the correct answer is Jesus . . . right?

I wonder what report he's looking for.

A Real Family Story

If you are looking for a poignant, sad, but beautiful story that will remind you what is important in life, I strongly suggest reading "Against All Odds, a Beautiful Life" in the January 24th edition of the New York Times.

The article tells the story of Maurice Mannion-Vanover who died at age 20 on January 14th. So often when I read news stories of young men dying it is because of violence -- whether that violence is at home, in their neighborhoods, or in war.

Maurice's story, however, is a family story. When Maurice was a baby he was adopted by a gay couple. Eventually, they adopted another boy, also. Maurice was not expected to live more than 6 months after his birth, but he managed, despite many challenges, to live until he was 20.

What I love about this article is that it tells such a normal family story, filled with happiness and pain, struggle and joy, commitment and separation, sadness and love. The fact that the family at the center of this story is two gay men and their two African-American adopted sons doesn't really matter. They are a family that has endured illness, divorce, and death. Like any other American family they stood together at Maurice's funeral and grieved his untimely death. Because that's what families do.

In the midst of the sadness, can we celebrate how normal this non-traditional family is? Can we start to accept that a family is defined not by external appearances or sexuality but by love, commitment, faith, and a life shared together?

Oh yes! One other detail I love. They are members of St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Montclair, NJ. They had a parish home that accepted and embraced them. If anyone tells you that religion isn't a good thing or that the church judges instead of loves, tell them Maurice's story. Tell them about the Episcopal Church.

And when you tell the story, don't forget to mention Rocky. He's the horse! I'll stop typing so you can read the article.

This story will definitely preach!

Honoring a New Hampshire Saint on Martin Luther King Day

Jonathan Myrick Daniels, a native of Keene, New Hampshire, was killed in Alabama on August 20, 1965. He was a 26 year old Episcopal seminary student who gave his life so that an African-American teenager, Ruby Sales, would not be harmed. He is rightly considered a Christian martyr and a saint of the church whose feast day on the church calendar is August 14.

Daniels and Sales are two of the countless people--people of different ethnicities, religions, ages, backgrounds, and political beliefs--who participated in the civil rights movement and helped to bring about the transformation of our nation.

I'm reminded of Daniels today because of an excellent column in today's Boston Globe by Adrian Walker, "On King holiday, honoring heroes," that focuses on Daniels passion and sacrifice. Beyond his willingness to give his life, Daniels' commitment, as a white northerner, reminds us that real transformation in our nation--a transformation that is ongoing today--comes when we open ourselves to those who are different from us.

As Ruby Sales said (as quoted in Walker's column): "If I had never met Jonathan Daniels, I would have only had a monolithic view of white people and he would have had one view of black people. We opened each other's worlds so we could see each other's humanity. That's really what the movement was about."

Following Jonathan's and Ruby's examples, perhaps the best thing to remember on this Martin Luther King Day is that the world will only become a better place when we open ourselves to relationships with those who differ from us, with those who are often separated from us. When we do this, we not only "see each other's humanity," we create community.

I highly recommend taking a few minutes to read Walker's column in the Globe. Not only does he give a fuller picture of Daniels' life and commitment than I've giving here, but he articulates the essence of what this national holiday is truly about.

Take Away the Arrogance and Hatred Which Infect Our Hearts

Six people killed and a member of Congress in critical condition in the hospital. The tragedy in Tucson has saturated the news as people try to respond and comprehend what happened. In what has become a common rite in western society, people have been leaving flowers, keepsakes, and notes in support of Congresswoman Giffords and those who were killed and injured.

Lost in the midst of this tragedy is one reported in the Boston Globe on Wednesday, January 12th in an article titled "Students Mourn Nebraska School Administrator Slain by Teen." A school principal was shot last week by a student she had suspended earlier in the day. Later that same day the student killed himself.

It seems at times, doesn't it, that we live in a society gone mad. I'm not sure if these sorts of things happen more often than they used to or if we just hear about it more because of the overload of information that comes to us. Whatever it is, I wonder what my response is to be to this as a Christian person. These events happened far away from me and my life really has not been changed by them. But do I just let them pass or is this a call to live in a new way?

I'm not sure what the answer is, but I know where I start in situations like this. I start by praying the prayer "For the Human Family" found on page 815 of the Book of Common Prayer.

O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus Christ your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Once I've prayed the prayer, the question becomes: How do I put this into action? It's fine to place my faith in God and wait for God's "good time" to bring the divine purpose into fulfillment. But that doesn't mean I bear no responsibility for the society in which I live today.

As Christians, one of our primary calls is to create community, a special sort of community that lives by faith, hope, and love despite the differences that might divide us. As God's people, as the Body of Christ, we have it within our power to make a difference by showing the world that there is another way to live together.

What might happen if we took seriously not only praying this prayer, but also living it?

Even the Snow Praises God

It's January 12th and we're getting our first "real" snow day of the season in New Hampshire. This seems a good time to lift up a prayer to God using the words of Canticle 12 from Morning Prayer in the Book of Common Prayer.

Invocation
Glorify the Lord, all you works of the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.
In the firmament of his power, glorify the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.

I The Cosmic Order
Glorify the Lord, you angels and all the powers of the Lord,*
O heavens and all waters above the heavens.
Sun and moon and stars of the sky, glorify the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.

Glorify the Lord, every shower of rain and fall of dew,*
all the winds and fire and heat.
Winter and summer, glorify the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.

Glorify the Lord, O chill and cold,*
drops of dew and flakes of snow.
Frost and cold, ice and sleet, glorify the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.

Glorify the Lord, O nights and days,*
O shining light and enfolding dark.
Storm clouds and thunderbolts, glorify the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.

Doxology
Let us glorify the Lord: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit;*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.
In the firmament of his power, glorify the Lord,*
praise him and highly exalt him forever.