Showing posts with label celebration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label celebration. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Happy to be here




I was on the phone last week with an old friend talking about the possibility of being called as the next Rector of St. John’s, Petaluma, and he said I am in the very privileged position of being a second “Founding Father” of the parish.  “Founding Father”—I liked the sound of that, but I also immediately thought about all of you.  The project of renewing this congregation is only in its eighth year, and still has a long way to go, so all of us here today, even those who are newly arrived, can consider ourselves part of the founding generation.  I also thought about how many of our Founding Fathers are Mothers.  I read an interview recently with Philip Jenkins, the leading academic on global  Christianity.  Asked about the role of women in the church in Africa, where, barring an unimaginable catastrophe, there will be a billion Christians by 2050, he said “Even if they are not ordained, women are key among the lay leaders.  Women bring their menfolk in as converts.  If a church doesn’t have a very strong female base and constituency, it is going nowhere.”

The same is true here, of course, and I saw a beautiful illustration of this a week ago yesterday.  I officiated at the marriage of one of our members at her home outside of Santa Rosa, and many of the wedding guests were from St. John’s.  Theresa Peter was the DJ for the event, and after dinner she cranked up the dance tunes.  Jason Klein and I were sitting at a table on the patio outside and we looked up and saw that eight or ten of the Founding Mothers of our church had formed a circle and were dancing together on the other side of the pool.  Now I’m not going to name names, but I can tell you that the church ladies were getting down, and taking turns strutting their stuff into the center of the ring.  And to me that was a vision of what I love about the spirit of the Episcopal Church, and why we have gone to such an effort to keep it alive here in Petaluma.

Because while we prize our formal liturgical worship, and we commit ourselves in baptism to live disciplined lives of prayer and service, and although we value hard work, and intellectual rigor, and the patient endurance of suffering as much as anyone, and while we do not underestimate the gravity of sin and the destructiveness of its consequences, or our great need for forgiveness and the unmerited gift of Christ’s righteousness, we also affirm the basic goodness of life.  We find a lot to celebrate in the common things of the created world, and those ordinary human experiences of love and pleasure, of beauty and belonging, that speak to us of God.  Another one of our members summed it up for me very simply at that same wedding reception last weekend when he said to me, “we really are meant to be happy, aren’t we?”

I think this experience of simply being happy, of being among friends and enjoying life, was central to the mission of Jesus.  When he heard about the murder of John the Baptist he decided to get out of town and lay low for a while, but there were a lot of people, a huge crowd, in fact, who went after him.  They were desperate for some relief of the suffering and hopelessness of their lives and they saw him take off in his boat and followed, walking along the edge of the lake until he came ashore.  When he landed they were waiting for him, and he felt compassion for their misery; so he healed the ones who were sick, and next thing you know it was suppertime.  

His disciples wanted to send the crowd away, but Jesus decided instead to have a picnic.  Everyone sat down together on the grass, and ate their fill of bread and fish, looking out over the lake as the sun was going down.  The young men and women flirted with each other.  The air was full of the laughter of children at play.  No one had to pay, or to cook or clean up.  And Jesus didn’t make a speech to that crowd.  He didn’t announce a new liberation movement to solve all their problems.  He didn’t hold a religious revival meeting for the salvation of their souls.  But for a couple of hours that evening, Jesus helped everyone remember what it was like to be happy.

You wouldn’t think this was such a controversial thing to have done.  But the fact is that one of things that Jesus’ enemies found so threatening about him was that he made people happy.  They were happy around in a way they hadn’t been in a long, long time, and he seemed to enjoy them, too.  “This fellow is a glutton and a drunkard,” grumbled the other religious leaders, “who welcomes tax collectors and sinners and eats with them.”  And these critics were actually pretty astute, because they recognized that nothing is as revolutionary as happiness.  When people experience it, they quite naturally understand that this is their birthright.  They remember how simple it really is, and that it shouldn’t be too much to ask. 

This leads them to some really uncomfortable questions about themselves, but also about the rules and rationales that dominate their lives.  They wonder why they spend so much time and energy struggling to stave off disaster, or avoid punishment, or compensate for their obligatory shame and unworthiness, and so little doing things that make them truly happy.  They question the dogma that happiness is only for the fortunate few, and ask whether anyone really can be happy when the person across the street, across town, or across the border is in misery.  And just as Jesus was not shy about sharing his happiness, he was also willing to raise the questions it provoked, and to press them as far as they took him, which, as we know, ended up being the cross. 

As founding Mothers and Fathers of the new and continuing St. John’s Episcopal Church, we’ve been trying to articulate something about why we’re here.  More and more people are making do without any religion at all, and for those who do need it, there is no shortage of trendy and user-friendly options.  So why go to all the trouble of renewing and rebuilding this parish, when the tides of cultural change seem to be flowing in the other direction?  To answer that question we’ve had Vestry Retreats, and come up with a mission statement, and held Vision Conversations, and Discernment Conversations, and done a lot of speaking and listening by way of trying to say something clear, and compelling, and true. 

And we have been very careful to frame these conversations so it is clear that we are not being selfish, but that we are all about what God is calling us to do, and how we can serve Christ, and love our neighbor.  And maybe we really mean that in all sincerity, yet I also suspect that there is at least a little part of us that believes that this is what we’re supposed to say.  But true spiritual discernment is about letting go of what we think is supposed to be and becoming open to what is, as we see in the living light of the Spirit.  So today I’m saying there may be no shame in admitting that we come to church because it makes us happy, or because we still hope to be, or want to remember what it was like, and because we know that happiness multiplies and deepens when it is shared.  

In a world grown deeply cynical about human beings, that reduces happiness to power and possessions, to entertainment and aggression and sex, we hold on to the happiness of Jesus.  It was the cause he suffered and died for, and that should be enough to tell us that it is not something sentimental or superficial.  It is what he was raised again for, so that his revolutionary happiness would not die, but would be universal and eternal.  We come to church because we insist on believing his promise of being happy, and to listen to his teaching about how to hope and to work, to give and to love, to suffer and to pray, for a truly happy world.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Getting married together





At the reception when Meg and I got married, the beer gave out.  Actually, there was plenty of it—we ordered a quarter-keg of Liberty Ale and I had my best man pick it up that afternoon, after which my brothers took charge of it.  But somewhere along the line the tap got broken, and they spent the whole reception, and several hours back at their motel room after it was over, coaxing a slow dribble of beer from a tantalizingly full container.  The irony was that St. Gregory’s Church, where the wedding and reception took place, is directly across the street from the Anchor Brewery, where that keg had been filled.  So if Jesus had been there, he wouldn’t have needed to perform a miracle.  He could have just sent some volunteers across the street to commandeer a delivery truck, backed it up to the church and started rolling off more beer. 
Now, that would have been gratuitous—the beer wasn’t flowing, but we had wine, and it wasn’t a hard-drinking crowd, anyway.  The altar table at St. Gregory’s is in the middle of a large octagonal hardwood floor, which is sprung for dancing.  And the altar’s also portable, so when you move it to one side, you’re ready to go.  We had a good DJ, and our friends like to dance, so the party was on, no matter what.  But what Jesus did in Cana was gratuitous, too.  Maybe it was a little sad that they were out of wine, but surely they didn’t need one-hundred twenty to one-hundred eighty gallons of it.  And that stupendous quantity is the first clue we have that the point of this story goes beyond the mere fact that Jesus could change water into wine.
The Gospel of John says that this is the first of Jesus’ miraculous signs.  This wedding is where the public ministry of Jesus begins.  No one is sure exactly where Cana would be if it were still standing, but it seems to have been a village in Galilee, not far from Nazareth.  The three “synoptic” gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke, also say that Jesus’ ministry began in Galilee.  But in those versions Jesus does a lot of his work there, in all kinds of settings, in the houses of the people, and by the road and beside the lake.  But this is the only place in John where we see Jesus in the company of the Galilean people, in the course of their ordinary lives.
So you could say that this scene at the wedding in Cana stands for a whole phase of Jesus’ ministry, as he carried it out in the everyday social milieu of the people he knew best.  And it suggests that what he gave them was an extravagant experience of celebration, of participation in an overflowing spirit of gladness and community.  And we can see this by entering into the imaginative world of this story and playing there for a minute.  We just have to ask, “What happens to all that good wine?”
Well the wedding party has already drunk a lot of the cheap stuff, so I suppose the next in line would be the lower-ranking among the invited guests, and then I guess it would be the turn of the servants, who’d be ready to unwind after filling all those water jars.  The news would travel fast, and pretty soon the wedding crashers would arrive, and the servants’ friends would be coming by, and by the next day or the next, folks would be wandering the streets of Cana, giving the stuff away.  That wedding would be remembered as the biggest party in the history of the town, when everyone got to join in a celebration that went on for days.
Now Jesus’ disciples were at the wedding—John mentions that at the beginning of the story and again at the end—and the result of what happened was that they believed in him.  But here again, I think it’s not just the fact that he turned water into wine that made the impression.  It was the way hr transformed an ordinary village wedding into a celebration that overflowed to embrace everyone in the community, where everyone got to share in the joy of the bride and groom.  In this miracle Jesus gave his disciples a vision of a greater and even more inclusive wedding feast, of which his whole ministry was the sign. and at which he is the host.  And if the host, then also the bridegroom.  
The ministry of Jesus of Nazareth, the things that he said and did in the towns and villages of ancient Palestine, was a public demonstration that God really does love us.  Jesus spoke and acted for the God of scriptures like the 62nd chapter of Isaiah, a God who desires his people, who finds them beautiful and chooses them for his very own and pledges faithfulness to them that will last forever.   And in the company of Jesus, those people saw a vision of what a faithful response to the love of God looks like as they united with one another in an inclusive community of abundance and celebration and love.   
Meg and I didn’t worry too much when the beer ran out at our wedding, because it wasn’t really our party, at least not entirely.  It was a church wedding, and I don’t mean merely that it took place in a church.  We threw in a few wrinkles, like a neo-pagan invocation of the ancestors and the four directions, but basically the ceremony was a celebration of the Holy Eucharist like it happens every Sunday at St. Gregory’s.  We invited our friends and family, but also the whole church congregation, and we trusted that the people of Saint Gregory’s would know how to embrace a company of strangers and help them become a worshipping community. 
The husband of the parish administrator turned out to be a pastry chef and gave us an incredible three-tiered cake.  While Meg’s mom and stepdad went to Costco for the food and drinks, some folks from the congregation went to San Francisco’s wholesale flower market, and brought back materials from which they made arrangements and a bridal bouquet.  We recruited volunteers to set up the tables after the ceremony and to bring out the food and to serve the champagne. Various people were photographs, and somebody even brought a video camera.  The church choir sang an anthem.  One of our priests gave the sermon, another performed the wedding, and the third did a beautiful job chanting the neo-pagan invocation to an improvised tone.
In this way we got to have a bigger and more beautiful wedding than a psychotherapist intern and a seminarian could ever have afforded otherwise.  Not that it was perfect.  The tap on the beer keg broke.  Our wedding album, such as it is, is full of blurry underexposed snapshots of people having a wonderful time.  The best portrait of the two of us was taken from behind us as we greeted a line of people after the ceremony.  Meg and I are looking at each other, smiling radiantly, and right between us, looking directly at the camera, is a mentally ill woman from the neighborhood named Audrey who ate practically a whole platter of Costco sushi and drank too much champagne.  A minute after that picture was taken, she was hanging onto us and gushing about how she loved us and this was the best party she could ever remember.
It was a celebration of love, and it was a profound experience for Meg and me to be at the heart of it.  But it was also about a kind of love that modern individualistic ideas about romance don’t do justice to.  It was an occasion for an outpouring of the gifts of a whole community, a community that expanded to embrace a whole company of strangers, where we all danced together around Jesus’ table to a single song of joy.  And in that sense it was the continuation of a wedding feast that started a long time ago.  It was about Meg and me, but it also shone with a glory that was manifested in a place called Cana, the glory of the love that God bears toward everyone, and what it will look like when we’re all married together.   

About Me

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Petaluma, California, United States
I am a priest in the Episcopal Church, and have been (among other things) an organic farmer and gardener, and a Zen monk. I have a lifelong interest in social and spiritual renewal on the basis of contemplative discipline, creative nonviolence, and ecological practice. In recent years my work has focused intensely on the responsibility of pastoral ministry in the humanistic, evangelical, and catholic branch of Christianity known as Anglicanism. I'm married with a daughter, and have three brothers and two parents.