On Liturgy

As an Episcopalian, I am a member of a liturgical church. "Liturgy," or "work of the people", consists of the rituals we use in worship to bring others and ourselves closer to God. Liturgy, as the definition implies, is an interactive form of worship. Perhaps that is why I lean so much towards it. Liturgy involves most of the senses (all, if you include incense), and incorporates movement in the form of standing, sitting, and kneeling. We sing, pray silently and aloud, and respond verbally to prompts in the service.

In liturgical style, I prefer "High Church," or liturgy rich in vestments, sounds, sacred music, candles and incense. Some people refer to it as "smells and bells". I find that when done well, a High Church liturgy can bring me closest to experiencing the wonder and majesty of God. That's not to say that "Low Church", a simpler form of liturgy, or "Broad Church", which tries to blend aspects of High and Low Church, can't bring people closer to the divine. It's just that to me, anyway, it's like looking at the familial aspect of our relationship with God. That's important, but it seems that we have emphasized that familial relationship so much that God has become familiar, instead of the Creator of the Universe that deserves our awe and reverence, as well as our love. Be that as it may, High, Low or Broad, it's important that we care enough to do liturgy well. Otherwise it's just a bumbling, unworthy display instead of a fitting offering to God.

Does that mean we'll do it perfectly every time? Of course not! We're simply fallible humans who will bumble at times. But we have to put out the effort. Also, when we do slip up, it's best to simply stop, acknowledge the mistake briefly (if necessary) and then, move on.

Peter D. Robinson, a bishop in the United Episcopal Church (not to be confused with The Episcopal Church, to which I belong), say this about liturgy in his blog, "The Old High Churchman":

"I would also note that we should always celebrate the liturgy with dignity and reverence, preferring a modest service done well to an elaborate one done badly. Reverence is caught, not taught. If our services are slovenly, then we should not be surprised if the people do not value the liturgy as they should."

Exactly.

Have a most blessed Holy Week. May you experience Christ's Passion and Resurrection fully in this journey towards Easter.

Notes from Today's Sermon by Fr. Z. -- Luke 15:25-32

Wow. Just. Wow.

I love a sermon that makes me think, that adds something new to the store of knowledge I carry. Most sermons are good in the sense that they are reminders of things I already know, but forget. This one was powerful because it added more depth to a familiar story. I had a different interpretation in my last blog entry.

The familiar story is usually known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son. You know, the younger son demands his share of the inheritance, blows it, returns home humbled, and his father takes him back with great celebration. The older son is angry because his no-good brother is welcomed home without any reproach while he slaves along, unappreciated. The father tells the older brother that "all that is mine is yours."

Here's what I got from today's sermon:

Reconciliation -- implies that something is not right, something needs to be fixed. Think about reconciling your checkbook and finding that you're two cents off.

The church, filled with imperfect people, offers us ample opportunities to practice the ministry of reconciliation.

Reconciliation at the human level is limited and imperfect because we are limited and imperfect. True reconciliation goes beyond tolerance or getting along. Reconciliation is like a mediated settlement, but we (humans) are not the mediators, nor do we determine the terms of the settlement.

This story could be renamed "The Parable of the Lost Sons". Both sons disrespected their father, who initiates reconciliation.

The younger son basically tells his father, "If you won't hurry up and die, then at least give me my stuff so I can have fun with it." The outrageous thing is the father's response. He doesn't tell his son to get out (get the (expletive) out, is probably how I might put it), but he gives the young man his inheritance and lets him go out into the world.

The word Luke uses for "property" is "bios", or "life." The father divided his life between his sons. Sounds familiar... like the One who gave His life for us.

The younger son squanders his money and ends up taking a job of feeding pigs, considered unclean by the Jews. He truly hit bottom here.

The older brother was also selfish. He was angry because he did all the right things, but saw his younger brother getting even more upon the younger brother's return. His focus was on himself. Doing right so he can gain something for himself. (Ouch. Sounds too familiar here.)

Neither brother reaches out to the other. In fact, the older brother failed his responsibility: to try to convince the younger brother to let go of his stupid idea of getting his inheritance and running. He didn't try to find his younger brother after the younger brother ran off.

The father (Father) is the mediator, the one who reconciles.

Unlike the older brother of the parable, we have a true Older Brother in Jesus. He seeks us out when we lose our way. He seeks to reconcile us to the Father. In Christ, God reconciles the world to Himself. We have the responsibility to spread the message of reconciliation. (2 Cor. 5:19)

The father initiates. His love is outrageous. He gives his sons their inheritance. He runs to meet his younger son when the son returns. He rushes out to plead with older son, when that son is angry and won't join in the celebration.

The theme today is "reconciliation". I find that I have to give up my idea of "justice" in order to be open to God's reconciliation. I have to accept that He has already forgiven me, and that I have to follow that example in how I deal with others who hurt me. Sometimes I'm not dealing directly with someone who's hurt me, but rather, the memory of a past hurt. God's desire is that I allow Him to heal that pain, that I let go of that over which I have no control.

How is God making his appeal through me as an ambassador for Christ? How do we show the world the reconciling power of God? Hmm... that's a tough one to write here. I don't want to get the answer wrong and steer somebody wrong. What I think is that God wants me to step aside, stop talking, and start letting go, start listening to Him. Reading His word, praying, meditation, worship, and Godly counsel are the resources He has given me to help me discern His will.

"Let go and let God," and "Be still and listen."

May your Lent continue to be holy and blessed,
E

A Nice Rendition of the 23rd Psalm -- The Lord is My Shepherd, retold by Rob Lewis

I used this when I taught a Pre-K class in a Catholic School. We have it at home now and I enjoy sharing it with my grandson, S.

The illustrations are charming, if you don't have a problem with God being a big bunny who takes care of the little bunny. The text is understandable to little ones, yet it has a nice, lyrical flow.

Here's the link on Amazon: The Lord is My Shepherd

I'm looking for ways to share my faith with the little guy. Do you start with God first, or do you talk about Jesus? Any particular favorite activities? Right now, I read The Lord is My Shepherd, The Rhyme Bible for Toddlers, and some other children's religious books. We've just started talking about God as the One who made everything. I've taught religion classes, but this is different, more personal, and there's no set curriculum in front of me. So I feel a bit lost as to whether I'm doing it "right".

Happy Lent!

I greeted Fr. Y with those words from the title, and he laughed and said it was an oxymoron. I replied, "Yes, I like that sort of thing."

Well, "Happy Lent" is kind of an oxymoron and...kind of not. I happen to like Lent. When I wrote an article for my old church's newsletter, I learned that "Lent" came from an Anglo-Saxon word for "spring." That kind of stuck on me. When I think of Spring, I think of Spring Cleaning, being refreshed, starting anew. Lent is like that -- Spring Cleaning for the soul.

I like the penitential seasons of Advent and Lent because they are an opportunity to intentionally clean up my spiritual life. Like housekeeping, one should clean up on a regular basis, but sometimes you need to set aside a special time to do some deep cleaning.

In a couple of weeks, I'll meet with one of our priests and say my Confession. It will be an opportunity for me to hear God, through the priest, say "I forgive you." Now, I know that God has already forgiven me, but for things that really bother me, I need to admit my wrongs and hear -- physically -- the words, "I forgive you." From past experience, I know that when I can tell someone the wrongs I've done, get a way for making things right (often referred to as a "penance"), and hear the words of forgiveness, I will feel better. Not only will I feel better, but more importantly, I will have made steps toward repairing the relationships that have been broken by my actions -- relationships with other people and with God Himself.

I like the somber, subdued mood in our worship during Lent. It's a break from the frenetic activity that sometimes invades even our worship space. I find that I can connect with God more deeply. Our music emphasizes our brokenness and need for healing. I appreciate that I can stop and admit that I'm human; I'm fallible -- I don't need to know it all or do it all. My 12-step work reminds me that there is a Power greater than I am, and Lent reminds me of the same.

As for giving something up...this year, not so much. I think I'll go the route of adding something rather than taking away. The reality is that I'll naturally give up something in order to make this "new" thing, whatever it may be, fit. This year, I'm going to add exercise and Bible Study to my life. It will likely mean less playing with the iPhone...oooh, can I do it? Heh. I can with God's help!

I wish you a blessed and most holy Lent. Happy Lent!

Lent's Coming! Quick -- get out the sackcloth and ashes!

Recently, I contributed a Lenten meditation for my former church's collection of writings. I like Lent, with its thoughtful, penitential focus. It's a lot like spring cleaning (the word lent comes from an Anglo-Saxon word for spring, after all) for the soul.

Here's the meditation:

Meditation for the 5th Day in Lent 2010 by Erlinda

Please read 1 Corinthians 1:1-19

There is a saying: “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Unfortunately, this holds true when we look at the state of the Church in Corinth and the present-day Church. Because we have been created to live in community (Gen. 2:18, Matt. 18:20, 1 Cor. 1:9), we have an almost insatiable hunger to belong to something. But often, when we create groups in which to belong, we also create out-groups. When Paul learned that the Church had split into factions, he admonished the Corinthians to strive for unity, “in mind and purpose.”

I have seen the sad results of church splits, whether from personal differences, doctrinal differences, liturgical differences, or any number of things that cause relationships to break down and die. People experience real pain from these splits, and friendships and communities are lost. Worse, people who have been wounded may begin to believe that there is no purpose for a worshiping community. Hearing the Corinthians say, “I belong to Paul”, or “I belong to Apollos”, or “I belong to Cephas”, or “I belong to Christ,” is not much different than saying, “I am orthodox,” or “I am progressive,” or “I belong to Holy Spirit,” or “I belong to St. George,” or “I belong to…” I call it looking at church with a “little c”, rather than Church with a “big C.”

We are going through a time of divisiveness within our Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion, of which we are a part. If we, as a Church, are to survive this tumultuous period, we need to do what Paul told the Corinthians – be united “in mind and purpose.” That purpose is to proclaim – in words and actions – the Good News of Jesus Christ to those who do not know Him. This is too big a task for any small group to undertake. We need to look beyond our differences and cooperate in inter-parish and even inter-denominational efforts. Christ will give us the gifts we need to achieve our goal – to fill the hunger of those lonely souls who need to know the love of Christ and the love of a truly Christian community.

Let us pray: Lord Jesus Christ, give us the strength to overcome the sad divisions we are experiencing in our Church. Help us to use the gifts You have given us to proclaim the Good News of Your presence to those who hunger so much for Your love, Your grace and Your peace. Amen.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Some years ago, I learned that my birthday falls on a special day on the church calendar. We Episcopalians call it the "Commemoration of the Faithful Departed," or "All Souls Day." It's a good time to think about those who have gone ahead of us to the nearer presence of God. We remember how their lives had touched ours, and we have hope that we will see them again. I don't know a lot about the specific customs associated with "Dia De Los Muertos," or "Day of the Dead", but I do believe in setting aside time for remembrance, and not only on November 2.

Today I did something a little different on my birthday. Amidst the celebratory activities, I visited with Fr. Z and celebrated the Rite of Reconciliation, popularly known as Confession. Usually, this is something I do during Advent and Lent, but I felt a need to closely examine and deal with some problems now.

The Catholics consider Reconciliation a sacrament, one of seven. Episcopalians don't see it as a sacrament (we recognize two -- Baptism and Eucharist), but rather a sacramental rite. To be honest, as a former Catholic, I'm more inclined to simply consider Reconciliation a sacrament, as I'm a bit fuzzy on the finer distinctions.

I think Reconciliation/Confession has been given a bum rap over the years. Certainly there have been instances of insensitive or punitive priests, but mostly, my experience has been that of cleansing of the sin that has cluttered my spirit. Sin separates me from my fellows and from God. I find it healing to expose the sin and repent. Of course, God forgives, and has forgiven, even without the presence of a priest. For me, it is useful to confess to someone who is, presumably, a bit further along the spiritual path than I am. It is humbling, and a bit embarrassing, to confess one's shortcomings to someone else. I'd just as soon try to ignore those shortcomings or concentrate on the other person's faults -- especially if the sin involves a conflict with another. When I come to a priest, I realize that God is working through him (or her) during the Rite of Reconciliation.

There is, also, the sanctity of the confessional. I know that my confession will not be part of conversations amongst my fellow congregants. While I know that I can avoid that problem by confessing privately to God (I don't say "directly to God" because I believe that confessing in the Rite is directly to God.), I do believe that another person can provide perspective that I can't usually get by myself.

Penance is also another aspect of the Rite that I appreciate. Not all priests use that word, but in their counsel there will usually be some concrete act I can do to make things right, or at least get on the right road towards that end.

So, I found that celebrating, yes celebrating, the Rite of Reconciliation was a a good addition to my birthday celebration. After all, what better way to celebrate my birth than to be reminded of my new birth in Christ?

Be blessed.

More Wisdom from Gump

My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." Forrest Gump

Sorry I have not given you much to read. Life in the face-to-face world has been very demanding. Since the grandson's mommy decided to go back to school -- a very good thing -- my husband and I have been alternating babysitting duty during the week. I believe that since I give so much attention and care to the children at work, my grandson deserves my fullest attention at home. Actually, that would be the case even if I did not work with kids. So, anyway, I have little time for reading and responding to email and Facebook, let alone stringing together complete thoughts for a blog entry.

This is a rare quiet time in our household. Papa (my husband) is napping, stepdaughter J is reading, and grandson S has finally succumbed to a nap. That gives me -- Nana -- a chance to blog today.

So back to the quote -- life is such a mixed bag. Joy and sorrow tumbling together.

This Sunday is the anniversary of a most joyous day -- the birth of grandson S. He will be 2, and is learning to proudly say so when asked, "How old are you?" He is a delightful playmate, inviting me to see once again through childlike eyes the joys of playdough, coloring, and blocks. My husband has returned from a business trip safe and sound. J is doing very well in school.

There are sorrows too. I heard about friends who have lost someone close to them. I heard about a friend who is dealing with depression and alcoholism. People, myself included, are still dealing with the uncertainties of the economy. I still carry the scars from a pastoral relationship/friendship gone sour.

Since it's Mental Health Awareness month, I'll share a little about my own experience with mental illness. I've dealt with depression for as long as I could remember. There was a time, several years ago, when I thought that living was quite overrated. My thinking was beyond clouded and I said and did things that hurt those I cared about. I spoke with the priest who was my pastor at the time, expressing my sorrow and regret over those hurtful deeds.

His response was not the warm, fuzzy response I expected. He said: "True repentance is doing everything in your power to get well."

These words have been my guide in recovery ever since (Thank you, Father D!). It wasn't enough to be sorrowful. I needed to change course, to do the things my treatment professionals recommended, to get rid of things and attitudes that kept me ill. I needed to be patient, as some changes took time.

Recovery is an ongoing process, and I am constantly on the lookout for signs that I'm drifting into depression. Recently, I experienced a depressive episode caused by a painkiller I was prescribed. Because I was vigilant, I was able to stop that episode before it became more serious.

When you hit bottom, there's nothing else to do but reach up to God. During my most severe depression, I began to pray more regularly. Today I pray each morning as I drive to work. For me, it works because at home there are so many distractions. Ideally, I'd like to go to church and pray. That only works now when I'm able to go to choir practice early and sit in the quiet of the empty church. When I was a Catholic, I'd go to Eucharistic Adoration in the chapel and sit quietly in the presence of Christ in the form of the Eucharist. I need to find/create a quiet space, besides my car, to pray. Any thoughts?

For all those dealing with mental illness, whether personally or as friends or family members, I offer this prayer from the Book of Common Prayer:

May God the Father bless you, God the Son heal you, God the Holy Spirit give you strength. May God the holy and undivided Trinity guard your body, save your soul, and bring you safely to his heavenly country; where he lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.