Means of Grace, Hope of Glory
Wednesday, December 9, 2020 at 3:18PM The Means of Grace, Hope of Glory blog has moved web sites.
We are now on the Order of the Ascension web site at -
http://www.orderoftheascension.org/means-of-grace-hope-of-glory/
All posts prior to November 11 , 2020 will remain on this site.
Tuesday, November 10, 2020 at 8:22AM 
For he remembered that they were but flesh, * a breath that goes forth and does not return (Ps 78:39)Sunday's sermon discussion was God’s People trying to figure out how to be faithful. It was a blessing to be part of that.
“We need to empathize”
“Write our representatives and ask them to support programs that will serve people on all sides, maybe infrastructure.”
“I’m still so angry”
At Morning Prayer today was the first part of Psalm 78. The writer understands that God is still angry. He has done “wonderful works.” He “worked marvels— “split open the sea and let them pass through”, “gave them drink as from the great deep”, “gave them grain from heaven.” And even though God had done all this “Their heart was not steadfast toward him.”
You see. God “gets” our anger. God “gets” our frustration with those who are so misguided.
But in the end God “get’s this – “For he remembered that they were but flesh, * a breath that goes forth and does not return” (Ps 78:39)
And God doubles down on it --
and be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. (Ephesians 4:32)
But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. (Matthew 5:44)
We are drawn to the solutions of our politics and self-help books. None of it bad stuff in itself. Sometimes helpful stuff.
It’s not in our control to get those we disagree with to see it our way. It’s not in our power to get them to apologize. It’s not in our power to have government be as we want it to be without consideration for them. Our journey through this life includes them. How annoying!
It is in our power to be kind, tenderhearted and forgiving. It is in our power to move our minds from our frustration and anger, from our assumptions of control and power, to another place. To God’s pathways of grace.
rag+
Wednesday, November 4, 2020 at 6:22PM 
The important way forward for all of us, in this time of so many overlapping worries, is to focus first on the things that we can control, and try to set aside those that we can’t. Mother MariclairOn election day, after coffee and prayers I found myself laughing -- “Election day is finally upon us, and never has the nation felt so much like a Christian Scientist with appendicitis.” Bishop Peter Eaton started his reflection with that line. For me, it captured my own sense of anxiety and apprehension. Something that ran deeper than whether my candidate was going to win.
My inbox gathers a collection of political columns (left, center, and right), news sources, and diocesan and parish newsletters. Some days I read them; on other days I delete them. For the past few days I've made a point to at least skim. They are filled with advice for managing our fear and foreboding.
Take deep breaths. Be hopeful. Love and serve someone else.
I'm not making fun of them. It all helps. Yet, there's more. The more has to do with living in Reality.
It's no mistake that Henri Nouwen saw the counterpoint to illusion as prayer. Prayer and reality, God and Reality.
We don't need talk therapy we need cognitive therapy. We need to change our ways of thinking about control and influence. It's not a new idea for most of us. In fact, it may be so commonplace we don't see our own confusion.
God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.
Is not just for those in AA.
For today, I'll share the words of several people about coming to terms with our illusions about control; about sin and human limitation; about God and Reality.
If we regard our lives from the perspective of faith, and of eternity, we are challenged to meet difficulties in a particular way. If we don't like something, and we are convinced in good conscience that we are right not to like it, we can either try to change it, or to change the way we think about it, looking for the glimpse of glory. Neither of those things may be easily done, but at least then we are actively engaging with our lives. What Harold Macmillan called 'events' may be beyond our control, but our conduct and our self-understanding is within our control. This isn't Pollyanna-ish or the philosophy of Candide; it is about the perspective of faith, which is surely what we seek to learn in Christian living. Michael Bowie, Newsletter Advent 1, All Saints Margaret Street
The important way forward for all of us, in this time of so many overlapping worries, is to focus first on the things that we can control, and try to set aside those that we can’t. This has been my mantra throughout our time of Covid, and it has helped me tremendously when I manage it. This doesn’t diminish the importance of what our country is going through right now, nor does it minimize the weight of the outcome of this election on the civil rights and the lives of so many in our community- it simply anchors us in a place of empowerment, and shifts our perspective. Mariclair Partee Carlsen, Rector, St. Mary's Hamilton Village, Philadelphia.
The Church is never anxious at the changes and changes of this fleeting world, though as individual Christians we often are. It is not that the Church is unconcerned with human affairs, for the Church must be concerned with all this. What we mean is that, while the Church has one foot on earth, it has the other foot in heaven, and the vision of God is the balancing that we need especially in times of social unrest and national division. Here too is hope, for the life of God is undivided, full of the peace that passes all understanding, and it is this reality that the Church is called upon to live, whoever is the President, whatever else is going on in our political life. So today we participate, as good citizens should, but we participate with a deep assurance that God is all in all and our ultimate security, even on this election day, and not an individual or a party or a particular political system. Bishop Peter Eaton, Diocese of Southeast Florida
In the current chaos, I’ve come to appreciate Marcus Aurelius’s maxim that “The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.” Andrew Sullivan in a recent "The Weekly Dish"
Related
We no longer know what to do
Trust, listening, complete messages, and cooperation
Contemplation – Intercession – Action
The unfinished work
A list of all postings
"The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended" was written by John Ellerton, 1826–1893. You can find it in the hymnals of many churches. It is the official evening hymn of the British Royal Navy and the Royal Australian Navy. The hymn was selected to be sung as part of the celebrations for the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897 and was also sung at the Hong Kong handover ceremony a century later.
During the Second World War “The Day Thou Gavest” (sung here at a Commemoration office) was sung every Sunday by British prisoners of war held by Japan. The hymn was sung "to give them comfort and strength to carry on". In 1945 when Japan surrendered in Tokyo Bay “the ship’s band of HMS Duke of York, the British flagship, was joined by the massed bands from all the Royal Navy ships present and struck up a hymn as the flags of all the allied nations were lowered from the signal yards. The name of the hymn was “The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, is Ended.”
"The music inspired the Navy’s official historian, Admiral Morison, on board the Missouri, to pen this benediction to the American sailors, but also to all the American soldiers, airmen and Marines of the Second World War:
Nothing could have been more appropriate to the occasion than this Sunday evening hymn to the Author of peace and lover of concord. The familiar words and music, which floated over the now calm waters of the Bay to the American bluejackets, touched the mystic chords of memory and sentiment, reminding all hands of the faith that had sustained them through travail and sacrifice. It brought sailors back to base and made them feel their Navy had achieved something more than a military victory.
Sunday, November 1, 2020 at 8:18AM 
We thank thee for thy mercies of blood, for thy redemption by blood, For the blood of thy martyrs and saints shall enrich the earth, shall create holy places. From such ground springs that which forever renews the earth. Though it is forever denied. T .S. EliotI look on the wall and see the images of 29 saints. There’s Jon Daniels and Frances Perkins, Allan Crite and Christina Rossetti, Frank Weston and Bernard Mizeki, John Keble and Lydia Sellon, Robert Dolling and Sister Constance and 19 others. I pray the Office with them each day. In the months of Pandemic, they and the plants are faithful companions.
They all belonged while not fitting in. There were people uncomfortable in their presence during their earthly lives. I wouldn’t be surprised, if even now in Glory, they have a certain joyous discomfort with one another. That’s the thing about the saints isn’t it—we’re in community with them even if we don’t understand them, like them and strongly disagree with them.
In one sense this is a part the of the earlier postings:
To be in community with people that we don’t understand, we may not like, and we disagree with
To be in community with people that we don’t understand, we may not like, and we disagree with #2
I found myself gazing at the icons this morning and understanding the discomfort of so many others. And I also thought of Eliot’s writing on Thomas Becket. These, now in glory, are gifts of God to humanity to show us God’s love, to warn and lead us back to God’s ways.
This morning’s reflection from Bishop Peter Eaton begins with Brene Brown’s distinction between belonging and fitting in. “By ‘fitting in,’ she means that instinct that we have to be calculating in our responses, actions, and thoughts so that the group into which we wish to fit will find no objection to our presence and participation. This is, of course, something we all learn to do very early.”
He goes on to explain and critique Brown’s understanding of belonging.
But “belonging,” Brown says, is different. And she is absolutely right. To belong is not the consequence of calculation, but of vulnerability, and she also remarks that the first person to whom we ought to belong is ourselves. I like Brown’s work, and she is extremely thoughtful about vulnerability, creativity, and courage, so I think that I know what she is getting at. There is an obvious sense that we must occupy a place of integrity in ourselves if we are to be able to be in any relationship of consequence with others. Yet for those who profess the Christian faith, to belong first to ourselves is as precarious as handing ourselves over to any other unreliable person, hoping that such a refuge might be a tabernacle for everlasting. If I were to depend on myself for myself, it would be a disaster (as it often is when I do precisely that). For those who profess the Christian faith, our first belonging cannot be to ourselves; our first belonging must be to God. Ours is not a self-help religion, but a grace-filled religion, and only God provides the reliability that enables the security that makes true vulnerability possible.
All the saints on my wall had to work out a life not focused upon “fitting in” but on a belonging that was “a place of integrity” in themselves and finally a belonging to God. The Rule of the Order of the Ascension includes this quote from Thomas Merton.
Our vocation is not simply to be, but to work together with God in the creation of our own life, our own identity, our own destiny-to work out our own identity in God, which the Bible calls 'working out salvation’ is a labor which requires sacrifice and anguish, risk and many tears.
That task belongs to us all. We who are not understood, not liked, and in disagreement with others—that is to say all of us. Those who seek to ignore and expel others and those who are ignored and expelled. All working together with God, “working out salvation.” As Fr. Kevin is want to say, “Need to give one another some slack.” Or as Bishop Peter puts it, a belonging not grounded in "fitting in" but on love.
As we give thanks to God today for all the saints whom the Church has recognised for this obvious belonging in their lives, it does us no harm at all to ask ourselves what keeps us from handing ourselves more completely over to God’s belonging. This first belonging will enable all the other belonging our hearts desire, for we shall come to every other relationship with that fundamental integrity that is illumined by light and truth. And such belonging is grounded not in calculation, like “fitting in,” but on love.
Almighty God, you have knit together your elect in one
communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son
Christ our Lord: Give us grace so to follow your blessed saints
in all virtuous and godly living, that we may come to those
ineffable joys that you have prepared for those who truly love
you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with you and the Holy
Spirit lives and reigns, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
rag+
The Anglo Catholics - a collection of icons
Friday, October 30, 2020 at 10:21AM 
There were several responses received to the posting of “To be in community with people we don’t understand, we may not like, and we disagree with.” Three are offered below. I add some of my thoughts at the end.
From Fr. Kevin Corbin Smith, St. Clements, Seattle –
I've had several conversations with people struggling with their feelings about those on the other side of the political spectrum, mostly family members they value, and how to respond to them in a manner that reflects their faith in a subtle way.
I'm reminded of a woman in my first parish with whom I had totally opposite views on the LGBTQ issue. Her comment to me was, "Well, Father, we don't have to agree. Jesus says nothing about agreement. But he does say we have to love each other. And I can DO that." She and I never agreed, but became dear friends. The parish was a safe place for the both of us.
Fr. Lowell Grisham, OA -
Just a quick reaction after a quick reading. This is a terrific piece. So helpful.
I once visited with a divorcing couple to help them define safe boundaries for their continued participation in the parish they both loved. I think they put into their divorce decree that George got the 9:00 service and Sylvia got the 11:00 service. That was enough to allow them to be civil and cordial at parish things when both were present. I was pleased about that.
A few times, I remember having to be the person protecting the oddball who made people uncomfortable. Talking about being able to be a community who can embrace one whom everyone else cast off worked for those who were able to grow into that part of the gospel. That sense that we were the parish that welcomed oddballs became part of the parish identity. I didn't mind it when a less mature couple left over their discomfort, but I sure missed their nice big pledge.
We tried once to set up safe boundaries for a convicted sex offender to return. He was unwilling to accept the conditions, so he didn't return.
A failure I remember... way back before I knew anything about transgender transition a parishioner began a transition process from man to woman. I did my best to be welcoming, but the discomfort was too much for him. I failed to create a process to help. "His" wife was an every-week heart-of-the-parish person and was uncomfortable with the transition. It was inevitable that she would end up in the parish, with or without him. I think I just played passive "nice guy" until the discomfort from the wife and community was too great for the transition. I've felt bad about not stepping up ever since.
My response –
Sometimes we don’t know how it is that we are making space for people. I’m pretty sure that with you it has to do with the climate you helped establish.
Looking back, I can see a few times in my own parish where that might have been true. There was a couple that ran a porn bookstore at Saint Elisabeth’s. Oops wrong way to say that. They were parishioners at Saint Elizabeth’s ran a porn bookstore in Center City.
Then there was Angelo in the Trenton parish. Many years later I learned that he felt he had to leave the parish a year or so after I had moved to Maine. He was a major in the National Guard while being liberal about his politics. That wasn’t enough for some of the lefties in my parish. They gave him a hard time until he felt he had to leave.
Lowell’s response -
There was a wonderful black woman who gave us her best shot. We tried our best. Oh, we tried. We utterly failed, and she left, hurt again by white folks who just don't have a clue. I'm so white, I don't know what we did. And we were talking with her the whole time, trying to learn. My associate Suzanne is the most loving, pastoral priest in the whole Anglican communion, and we just couldn't make the bridge. That's not quite what we are talking about, but it's what hit me when you talked about the Guardsman not making it in the lefties parish.
My response –
God bless us. We do try.
My 8 am Mass congregation in Trenton was all white, all over 70, all pottery worker families whose grandparents came over from some English town to make Trenton toilets. It was Rite One with no touching at the Peace.
Black woman in town to visit a family member in the nearby hospital came one Sunday. At the Peace she reaches around to the people in the pew behind her. There was just the slightest pause and they grasped her hand. Even exchanged it with one another. The following week we returned to normal.
Same crew. Joined for about 18 months by a man with Tourette's. He had a very vivid vocabulary. Made for some interesting responses in the liturgy. They didn't leave, avoid, or ever say anything to me about it.
They all came to the marriage liturgy for Melissa and me. We were doing our shared homily and dance-around-the-altar rite from Julian of Norwich. They sat all that out but were clearly happy to be there.
Someplace along the line they had been formed. Some mix of mellowing with age and Grace.
People's discomfort has been weaponizedThis writer asked that their name not be used.
Wow I really, really appreciate this post.
I have felt deeply torn up about the ways that people's discomfort has been weaponized. And then I second-guess myself in wondering if I am being an asshole, or full of ego, or just a really bad Christian -- and, because most of these little dramas are happening outside of the church, but people do know I am a Christian -- I worry that possibly I am scandalizing people. This gives me a couple more tools to think with about this.
My request –
Could you say more about what you mean by the discomfort being weaponized? What does that look like to you? Example?
The response -
There are times when someone's expressing how they feel carries an implicit message: Do something about this. Either, stop doing the thing you are doing, or start doing something else.
Once I was told that putting someone's name on the Prayers of the People list was inappropriate. There'd been a messy parting of ways; people in the parish had taken sides; some people had been asked / told to go away. I had put someone's name on the prayer list a few weeks in a row.[1] Someone confronted me and asked whether I was the one who had written the name -- "One of them, at least," I said. They told me that hearing the name in the prayers felt to them like being struck. I said, "Oh." I probably should have said, "I'm very sorry to hear that." But it was clear that I was supposed to hear this person's discomfort as in itself dispositive -- one and only one action could follow from it; I should stop writing that name on the list. Because if I didn't, then clearly, I didn't care about their discomfort.
It often feels to me that having a question raised can be experienced by the listener as betrayal. People feel so panicked and threatened, in a world where battle lines are everywhere, that their bodies and brains are on high alert for signs of danger. When I am surrounded by people who are scared and alarmed, it is hard for me to stay calm. This isn't just because anxiety is contagious. Panicked creatures are dangerous; they can turn on you. So, I am afraid of being attacked in turn. But the alarm is rarely overt; it's in a thousand small ways that we are constantly attuning our antennae, and aware that other people are doing the same.
Well, that's it, I guess. I suppose it is clear that I find it all incredibly disheartening. Staying oriented in prayer is about the only thing that is reliable as a release -- and only if I don't treat it as a "cure." When I remember St. Silouan's words that the mark of the Christian is love of one's enemies, then I realize, Oh Yeah, I signed up for the Intensive course. And I no longer feel so entitled to having people assume the best about me every single time.
Follow up thoughts
This may be at the heart of the Gospel assumption. Our Lord’s command that we “come to terms quickly” is often ignored because those involved assume that “coming to terms” or reconciliation, means that the parties have to come to an agreement about the dispute.
Jesus and Paul appear to be more interested in how people can live in community with those they disagree with.
I see two aspects of the pastor’s role here.
The rector of a parish, over the years, can establish a climate of acceptance, empathy and engagement. Success will always be partial. The key is a mix of personal example and the nurturing of an apostolic core. Kilmer Myers wrote,
The story of every parish should be a love story. ..One possible definition for a parish is that it is God's way of meeting the problems of the unloved. This meeting between God and the unloved, the unwanted, takes place in the preaching of the Word, in the Sacraments, in the social life of the parish made possible by the climate of acceptance which is engendered by those who have been baptized and confirmed in the Catholic faith. One of the main tasks of the parish priest is to train the militant core of his parishioners in such a way that they understand as fully as possible the true nature of a Christian parish. (Light the Dark Streets)
The second is the willingness of the priest to stand between those seen as “different” and those who would, because they feel uncomfortable, shun or expel.
There are times when we “stand at the gate,[2]” when we “stand in the breach.[3]” We work to bring people into the City, and we, on rare occasion, stop someone from entering. We sometimes are in a struggle with those we lead, and we make space for them to learn and grow.
In the Liturgy for Good Friday that last collect includes this –
we pray you to set
your passion, cross, and death between your judgment and
our souls, now and in the hour of our death.
The example of the congregation’s intercessory prayer being perverted has special power. Intercessory prayer is one of the church’s ways of standing in the breach. Here, in this community, all are prayed for.
We hold them on our heart before God. We commend them to God’s compassion. Everyone—the offended and the offender, those within the gates and those outside. And in that action our hearts are enlarged. Our stone hearts are turned to flesh.[4] Our blindness of heart, our pushing away those that offend and hurt us, are changed as we pray for them.
rag+
To be in community with people that we don’t understand, we may not like, and we disagree with
[1] This is an especially interesting example as intercession for others is a way in which we “stand in the breach.” (see below)
[2] A place where counsel was given, and the city protected. There are ways in which people, at risk to themselves, place themselves at the gate.
[3] Psalm 106:23 “So he would have destroyed them, had not Moses his chosen stood before him in the breach.” And Ezekiel 22:30 “And I sought for anyone among them who would repair the wall and stand in the breach before me on behalf of the land, so that I would not destroy it; but I found no one.” And, John 3:16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
[4] Ezekiel 11:19-20 and 36:25-26