Thanks to my children I was privileged to experience the U2 360 Tour. Okay, U2 may be on the cusp of an aging band, but they still can get 60,000 people to sing along for two hours, standing a lot of the time.
One critic asked if U2 had moved from a band with a cause to cause with a band. Bono spoke with courage to an Arizona crowd, encouraging them to be the best part of America and support the poor in Africa and around the world. I pray many listened to more than just the music.
It was, for the most part, an intergenerational crowd, not something you experience at many concerts. The appeal of U2 across generations is the hope for possible change that not only Bono, but many in that crowd, pray to see in their lifetime.
One of my friends was privileged to be on the stage in one of the final numbers. She represents ONE, as a participate and as a leader in the Church, she represents some of our best efforts. Thanks to ONE and U2 for their efforts on behalf of the needy. Something considering supporting.
Great music - most worthwhile cause - profound experience - and the best part was I experienced it with my family.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, October 05, 2009
Open letter to DBACKS manager
This is an open letter to the manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks, A.J. Hinch.
Dear Skip (I use that term because that is what the players are supposed to call you, however, I wonder if yours do. Of course some of the young players on the Dodgers call manager Joe Torre, “Mr. Torre.” I’m pretty confident your players don’t call you Mr. Hinch.)
You were quoted in the Arizona Republic on October 5, 2009 that you have two weaknesses you want to work on during the off-season. First, you feel you need to work on manager-player relationships. Second, you recognize you need to improve your in-game decision-making. It is very commendable that you would be so transparent. I would love to be a fly on the wall when your players read those quotes. While your relationships with the players have been well hid from the public, your in-game decision making, well, has been hanging out there for all of us to see.
When you took over the Diamondbacks they were in fourth place and the Rockies were trailing the Dbacks in last. Shortly after the Dbacks turned their team over to you, the Rockies also made a change. Yesterday, at the end of the regular season, I couldn’t help but notice that the Dbacks finished in dead last. The Rockies, on the other hand, who hired a seasoned manager in Jim Tracy (who spent 13 years managing in the minor leagues before taking a major league job), are in the playoffs. That speaks enough of your lack of in-game decision-making. For your information, of course, I realize you have never even managed a Little League game, but in-game decision-making is also known as making managerial moves.
Interestingly enough, Sunday, in the same newspaper, Hall of Fame second baseman Ryan Sandburg was quoted as saying that he has aspirations of managing in the Big Leagues. Of course, he has spent the last three years successfully managing in the Cubs minor league system. My hunch is when he does get the chance to manage, he will be prepared in areas such as manager-player relationships and managerial moves, sorry, in-game decision making.
Here’s a suggestion for you. Instead of making us watch you slog through another season of learning on the job while we pay a lot of money to watch you do what you should have learned at a lower lever, why don’t you volunteer to manage in the Arizona Fall League. A lot of your colleagues honed their skills there first.
I realize you did not hire yourself. But, now that you have the job, and you realize that you have deficiencies, do something about it besides spending the winter playing X-Box baseball with your best friend and general manager buddy.
Dear Skip (I use that term because that is what the players are supposed to call you, however, I wonder if yours do. Of course some of the young players on the Dodgers call manager Joe Torre, “Mr. Torre.” I’m pretty confident your players don’t call you Mr. Hinch.)
You were quoted in the Arizona Republic on October 5, 2009 that you have two weaknesses you want to work on during the off-season. First, you feel you need to work on manager-player relationships. Second, you recognize you need to improve your in-game decision-making. It is very commendable that you would be so transparent. I would love to be a fly on the wall when your players read those quotes. While your relationships with the players have been well hid from the public, your in-game decision making, well, has been hanging out there for all of us to see.
When you took over the Diamondbacks they were in fourth place and the Rockies were trailing the Dbacks in last. Shortly after the Dbacks turned their team over to you, the Rockies also made a change. Yesterday, at the end of the regular season, I couldn’t help but notice that the Dbacks finished in dead last. The Rockies, on the other hand, who hired a seasoned manager in Jim Tracy (who spent 13 years managing in the minor leagues before taking a major league job), are in the playoffs. That speaks enough of your lack of in-game decision-making. For your information, of course, I realize you have never even managed a Little League game, but in-game decision-making is also known as making managerial moves.
Interestingly enough, Sunday, in the same newspaper, Hall of Fame second baseman Ryan Sandburg was quoted as saying that he has aspirations of managing in the Big Leagues. Of course, he has spent the last three years successfully managing in the Cubs minor league system. My hunch is when he does get the chance to manage, he will be prepared in areas such as manager-player relationships and managerial moves, sorry, in-game decision making.
Here’s a suggestion for you. Instead of making us watch you slog through another season of learning on the job while we pay a lot of money to watch you do what you should have learned at a lower lever, why don’t you volunteer to manage in the Arizona Fall League. A lot of your colleagues honed their skills there first.
I realize you did not hire yourself. But, now that you have the job, and you realize that you have deficiencies, do something about it besides spending the winter playing X-Box baseball with your best friend and general manager buddy.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Secular mets sacred
Today, for me, the secular met the sacred. I was called to jury duty and for the first time since being a priest I was called to a jury panel. The judge and the lawyers asked a battery of questions determined to allow anyone who might be prejudice in the case to recuse themselves.
Despite the fact that the defendant was an undocumented immigrant and despite the concerns regarding the use of force, I thought I could rise above all those questions and serve my civic duty.
Then the question was asked if anyone, who for religious reasons, felt they could not be a judge of someones actions - I had to raise my hand. At that point, all of my internal bias' came to the surface and I had to admit that, I indeed, have reason to be prejudice in this case. The judge released me from my duty this day.
I wanted to believe that even given the circumstances and allegations, I could be objective - I had to be honest, because of my own personal convictions, I could not. I wonder what I'll learn about myself tomorrow.
Despite the fact that the defendant was an undocumented immigrant and despite the concerns regarding the use of force, I thought I could rise above all those questions and serve my civic duty.
Then the question was asked if anyone, who for religious reasons, felt they could not be a judge of someones actions - I had to raise my hand. At that point, all of my internal bias' came to the surface and I had to admit that, I indeed, have reason to be prejudice in this case. The judge released me from my duty this day.
I wanted to believe that even given the circumstances and allegations, I could be objective - I had to be honest, because of my own personal convictions, I could not. I wonder what I'll learn about myself tomorrow.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Lutherans
Congratulations to the ELCA for their willingness to allow congregations to choose ministers or lay leaders who may be in "lifelong, monogamous, same-gender relationships." Episcopalians are in communion with the ELCA and now we are in solidarity with their wisdom.
In response to their action, the President of Fuller Theological Seminary, Dr. Richard Mouw, said, "For those of us who have opposed this on biblical grounds, it is bound to reinforce the sense that we are no longer welcome in the mainline."
What? Because the Lutherans and the Episcopalians want to be inclusive that means that in reality they are exclusive? Dr. Mouw, you are the one who is a Calvinist. By the very nature of your theology you are exclusionary and suggest that the non-elect are hopeless and while they are welcome to hang around the door, they are without the hope of ever getting in. Okay, I know you hedge your Calvinism with what you call common grace, but when all is said and done, you are a Calvinist.
I have heard this argument recently from a colleague in the Episcopal Church - he said virtually the same thing - meaning, because the Church, and I, don't agree with him, thereby the Church, and I, are not making room for him. I apologize, but I don't understand. How can inclusive be exclusion?
I wonder?
In response to their action, the President of Fuller Theological Seminary, Dr. Richard Mouw, said, "For those of us who have opposed this on biblical grounds, it is bound to reinforce the sense that we are no longer welcome in the mainline."
What? Because the Lutherans and the Episcopalians want to be inclusive that means that in reality they are exclusive? Dr. Mouw, you are the one who is a Calvinist. By the very nature of your theology you are exclusionary and suggest that the non-elect are hopeless and while they are welcome to hang around the door, they are without the hope of ever getting in. Okay, I know you hedge your Calvinism with what you call common grace, but when all is said and done, you are a Calvinist.
I have heard this argument recently from a colleague in the Episcopal Church - he said virtually the same thing - meaning, because the Church, and I, don't agree with him, thereby the Church, and I, are not making room for him. I apologize, but I don't understand. How can inclusive be exclusion?
I wonder?
Monday, August 17, 2009
Woodstock
This is one of those blog entries I have told myself all morning not to write - I know I am going to regret this - but, I guess that's never stopped from doing things before, now has it?
Last night I watched my copy of Woodstock. Unfortunately, I can't recapture my youth, but hey, at least once in awhile, especially on anniversary events, I can relive it for a few hours.
No, I didn't go to the Woodstock Music Festival. I would have if we lived anywhere near there - but, alas, we lived in Phoenix, I was fifteen in 1969. The documentary was released the next year. I had just gotten my driver's license. Good thing the ticket teller didn't ask me for my ID to get into the "R" rated movie - they did those things back then.
I was transfixed. Three hours, only broken by the interfuckingmission. The music gave shape to my inner life - because my outer life was being pounded into form by church and sports. None of those hammers had matching rhythms. The expected outcomes of each was dramatically out of tune. What to do? Live different lives and don't let anyone see the inner world. Worked for awhile, well sort of, actually not really.
Oddly enough, as I watched the film last night it dawned on me that my incarnational spirituality was being played out before me on the screen. No matter how hard the external pounding, the inner vibrations eventually will ooze out. Mystical experiences need no words - sometimes though, it helps to having something to dance to.
Last night I watched my copy of Woodstock. Unfortunately, I can't recapture my youth, but hey, at least once in awhile, especially on anniversary events, I can relive it for a few hours.
No, I didn't go to the Woodstock Music Festival. I would have if we lived anywhere near there - but, alas, we lived in Phoenix, I was fifteen in 1969. The documentary was released the next year. I had just gotten my driver's license. Good thing the ticket teller didn't ask me for my ID to get into the "R" rated movie - they did those things back then.
I was transfixed. Three hours, only broken by the interfuckingmission. The music gave shape to my inner life - because my outer life was being pounded into form by church and sports. None of those hammers had matching rhythms. The expected outcomes of each was dramatically out of tune. What to do? Live different lives and don't let anyone see the inner world. Worked for awhile, well sort of, actually not really.
Oddly enough, as I watched the film last night it dawned on me that my incarnational spirituality was being played out before me on the screen. No matter how hard the external pounding, the inner vibrations eventually will ooze out. Mystical experiences need no words - sometimes though, it helps to having something to dance to.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Discernment
I’ve had the joy of walking in Ireland from Dublin to Kildare, a pilgrimage of about 120 miles. The second day of our journey we walked almost sixteen miles. Six miles of that was spent walking across White Hill in a blinding rainstorm and a sixty-mile an hour wind. One of our fellow pilgrims suffered from severe blisters and we had to travel at a very slow pace, ensuring that person wouldn’t get left behind.
On the third day we headed to Glendalough, about a seven miles up and down through the Wicklow Mountains. The rain was steady and hard that day, even for the Irish. The day before our map had gotten trashed in the downpour across White Hill. Without a good map, well, at one point we were pretty sure we were lost.
One of the many things I learned on our pilgrimage was, before you think you’re really lost, stop and ask directions. Its one thing to be driving around in a car and be lost and unwilling to ask for directions, it’s quite another to be walking and carrying a forty-pound pack. You don’t want to go a mile out of your way because that means you’ve really gone two miles out of your way because you have to turn around and go back.
While walking lost we came across a couple sitting by the side of the trail having a cup of tea. They both had packs so we figured they were fellow pilgrims. I asked them if they were walking the Wicklow Way.
“Ah,” the man said.
“We are walking the Way as well, but I think we’re lost,” I told him.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked.
“From Roundtree.”
“Well you’re going in the wrong direction,” he said.
“Ok,” I said.
He said, “Where’s your map laddy.”
I pulled out our map. It was a useless wad of soaked paper. The lines bled together in an indistinguishable mess.
“That’s not a map laddy,” he reached in his bag, “this is a map.”
He produced a detailed topographical map sealed in zip lock bag. He proceeded to tell us we were walking in the wrong direction, though somehow we had actually made it the correct turnoff point in the trail. Oh, one small point, we had walked about two miles past the turnoff point. On his map he showed us where we should have turned and what we should look for. We thanked him and started to walk back down the road we had just come.
“Laddies, we’ll walk with you a ways, just to make sure.” He said.
He and his partner walked the next two miles with us explaining in detail how to make our way to Glendalough. I have no idea how far we would have walked out of our way if those two people had not helped us.
At the end of the Gospel of Luke we hear the story of two of Jesus’ disciples walking the seven miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Jesus has been crucified and buried. On the third day some of the women disciples went to the tomb and found it empty. These two disciples had left Jerusalem and were on their way to Emmaus.
They were filled with grief. Their beloved rabbi is dead and now his body is gone.
A stranger joins them on their walk. He asks them why they are so sad. Shocked, they ask if he is the only person in Jerusalem who had not heard about the tragic slaying of Jesus.
While waking along side these two disciples the stranger begins to share the scripture of the promised Messiah.
Eventually, the three travelers arrive in Emmaus and the stranger bids them farewell and starts to walk on his way. But the disciples implore to spend the night with them. The stranger relents and joins them for an evening meal.
As the three sit at their table the stranger takes bread, blesses it, breaks the bread and shares it with his friends. The scripture says their opens were opened to see Jesus Christ in the breaking of the bread.
The scripture tells us that immediately they left Emmaus and returned to Jerusalem to witness to their friends what they had heard and seen.
As Episcopalians this is our three-part story. We walk together sharing in the Liturgy of the Word, trying to gain a deeper understanding of the scriptures. We gather around the Liturgy of the Table. We take the bread, bless the bread, break the bread and we share the bread, expecting that Christ will be revealed in the Holy Eucharist. Then we are sent into the world by the Deacon to be witnesses to what we have heard and what we have experienced.
We do not walk this road alone. We cannot hear nor understand the word outside of community. We break the bread in community and communion because that is where Christ is revealed to us. And together we are witnesses to the world of the sacrament of the Word and the Table.
This lifetime pilgrimage of Word, Table and witness is also a lifetime of discernment. Discernment is done in community with the community.
Discernment is the process of hearing the Word as it is revealed in the lives of the community. We listen deeply to our own Emmaus stories. We are vulnerable in sharing these stories because we know that we are safe as we gather around the mystery of the Table. It is in the community of discernment that we can hear what the Spirit is saying.
The process of discernment is the gift we have to offer. We walk along side one another, listening to the word, sharing our stories, praying for the Spirit to point each of us in the right direction. It’s not an easy process. It takes humility, vulnerability and a willingness to listen to what the Spirit is saying.
Discernment communities that are listening to the Spirit will be transformed collectively as well as individually. The community of St. Augustine’s and the Episcopal Campus Ministry at ASU also known as St. Brigid's Community consider one of our gifts to be that of discernment. In less than three years we have had eleven discernment committees. Listening to the Holy Spirit in community forms the community.
It’s not an easy pilgrimage. Answers are sometimes “yes,” or “no,” or “not yet” or “we are uncertain.” Yet, the Spirit continues to provide a safe environment to walk along side one another. We continue to share our Emmaus stories, breaking bread together and witnessing to others what Christ has revealed to us.
I encourage you as you continue the life long process of discernment to ask questions we are often afraid to ask. If we don’t ask the tough questions we may find ourselves walking miles out of the way to discover the path. I encourage you to walk along side one another especially those whom you may not know very well. These are the ones who you may help the most. I encourage you to be vulnerable enough to share your rain-drenched maps with one another. Someone else may have the map you are looking for. I encourage you to walk the pilgrimage of discernment because if you don’t take the risk for sure you’ll never find your way.
Finally, I encourage you to walk side by side, listening to the Word, breaking the bread together and to be witnesses to what you have seen and heard in community.
On the third day we headed to Glendalough, about a seven miles up and down through the Wicklow Mountains. The rain was steady and hard that day, even for the Irish. The day before our map had gotten trashed in the downpour across White Hill. Without a good map, well, at one point we were pretty sure we were lost.
One of the many things I learned on our pilgrimage was, before you think you’re really lost, stop and ask directions. Its one thing to be driving around in a car and be lost and unwilling to ask for directions, it’s quite another to be walking and carrying a forty-pound pack. You don’t want to go a mile out of your way because that means you’ve really gone two miles out of your way because you have to turn around and go back.
While walking lost we came across a couple sitting by the side of the trail having a cup of tea. They both had packs so we figured they were fellow pilgrims. I asked them if they were walking the Wicklow Way.
“Ah,” the man said.
“We are walking the Way as well, but I think we’re lost,” I told him.
“Where are you coming from?” he asked.
“From Roundtree.”
“Well you’re going in the wrong direction,” he said.
“Ok,” I said.
He said, “Where’s your map laddy.”
I pulled out our map. It was a useless wad of soaked paper. The lines bled together in an indistinguishable mess.
“That’s not a map laddy,” he reached in his bag, “this is a map.”
He produced a detailed topographical map sealed in zip lock bag. He proceeded to tell us we were walking in the wrong direction, though somehow we had actually made it the correct turnoff point in the trail. Oh, one small point, we had walked about two miles past the turnoff point. On his map he showed us where we should have turned and what we should look for. We thanked him and started to walk back down the road we had just come.
“Laddies, we’ll walk with you a ways, just to make sure.” He said.
He and his partner walked the next two miles with us explaining in detail how to make our way to Glendalough. I have no idea how far we would have walked out of our way if those two people had not helped us.
At the end of the Gospel of Luke we hear the story of two of Jesus’ disciples walking the seven miles from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Jesus has been crucified and buried. On the third day some of the women disciples went to the tomb and found it empty. These two disciples had left Jerusalem and were on their way to Emmaus.
They were filled with grief. Their beloved rabbi is dead and now his body is gone.
A stranger joins them on their walk. He asks them why they are so sad. Shocked, they ask if he is the only person in Jerusalem who had not heard about the tragic slaying of Jesus.
While waking along side these two disciples the stranger begins to share the scripture of the promised Messiah.
Eventually, the three travelers arrive in Emmaus and the stranger bids them farewell and starts to walk on his way. But the disciples implore to spend the night with them. The stranger relents and joins them for an evening meal.
As the three sit at their table the stranger takes bread, blesses it, breaks the bread and shares it with his friends. The scripture says their opens were opened to see Jesus Christ in the breaking of the bread.
The scripture tells us that immediately they left Emmaus and returned to Jerusalem to witness to their friends what they had heard and seen.
As Episcopalians this is our three-part story. We walk together sharing in the Liturgy of the Word, trying to gain a deeper understanding of the scriptures. We gather around the Liturgy of the Table. We take the bread, bless the bread, break the bread and we share the bread, expecting that Christ will be revealed in the Holy Eucharist. Then we are sent into the world by the Deacon to be witnesses to what we have heard and what we have experienced.
We do not walk this road alone. We cannot hear nor understand the word outside of community. We break the bread in community and communion because that is where Christ is revealed to us. And together we are witnesses to the world of the sacrament of the Word and the Table.
This lifetime pilgrimage of Word, Table and witness is also a lifetime of discernment. Discernment is done in community with the community.
Discernment is the process of hearing the Word as it is revealed in the lives of the community. We listen deeply to our own Emmaus stories. We are vulnerable in sharing these stories because we know that we are safe as we gather around the mystery of the Table. It is in the community of discernment that we can hear what the Spirit is saying.
The process of discernment is the gift we have to offer. We walk along side one another, listening to the word, sharing our stories, praying for the Spirit to point each of us in the right direction. It’s not an easy process. It takes humility, vulnerability and a willingness to listen to what the Spirit is saying.
Discernment communities that are listening to the Spirit will be transformed collectively as well as individually. The community of St. Augustine’s and the Episcopal Campus Ministry at ASU also known as St. Brigid's Community consider one of our gifts to be that of discernment. In less than three years we have had eleven discernment committees. Listening to the Holy Spirit in community forms the community.
It’s not an easy pilgrimage. Answers are sometimes “yes,” or “no,” or “not yet” or “we are uncertain.” Yet, the Spirit continues to provide a safe environment to walk along side one another. We continue to share our Emmaus stories, breaking bread together and witnessing to others what Christ has revealed to us.
I encourage you as you continue the life long process of discernment to ask questions we are often afraid to ask. If we don’t ask the tough questions we may find ourselves walking miles out of the way to discover the path. I encourage you to walk along side one another especially those whom you may not know very well. These are the ones who you may help the most. I encourage you to be vulnerable enough to share your rain-drenched maps with one another. Someone else may have the map you are looking for. I encourage you to walk the pilgrimage of discernment because if you don’t take the risk for sure you’ll never find your way.
Finally, I encourage you to walk side by side, listening to the Word, breaking the bread together and to be witnesses to what you have seen and heard in community.
Friday, May 01, 2009
After sermon writing ramblings
Do I really have to tell people to not shake hands at the sharing of the peace? Do you think Jesus used hand sanitizer before feeding the 5000 or before breaking bread at his last meal?
"I have guarded myself more carefully against contented people than against contagious diseases." Victoria Wolff (quoted from The Sun magazine)
I wonder if Jesus would want to be confirmed as an Episcopalian? Or be ordained as a deacon or a priest? What would his discernment committee say? Would his vestry approve his request? Would the parish support him financially at seminary? Would his homiletics professor approve of his preaching style? I guess he did have the gift of gathering, but was he entrepreneurial enough?
After sermon writing ramblings -
"I have guarded myself more carefully against contented people than against contagious diseases." Victoria Wolff (quoted from The Sun magazine)
I wonder if Jesus would want to be confirmed as an Episcopalian? Or be ordained as a deacon or a priest? What would his discernment committee say? Would his vestry approve his request? Would the parish support him financially at seminary? Would his homiletics professor approve of his preaching style? I guess he did have the gift of gathering, but was he entrepreneurial enough?
After sermon writing ramblings -
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