tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4665751265868423422024-03-13T08:19:03.272-07:00Vicar of the Old NorthReflections of the Vicar-in-Charge of the Old North Church in Boston.Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-8947950882102766882022-09-19T10:31:00.010-07:002022-09-19T10:53:59.569-07:00Changed from Glory into Glory: A Symbol of the Best of Us<p> </p><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOQ7FQXlNcNa99isX4rWbaVhiDKjrz59m3M9B11VJKyJ0OvbS9Dfya--TzDFyiKZ_LeC1sq1YAQLrzMndjcRw5lEoKCflCACmUOx9H01k4x8foFCqkrvob0cunmVMOxutkRDQ4qRjMVtSjcLRqDprfEquh00vBxNimuljw0GvrblNNhCougY-yVjw/s1024/Royal-Cypher-Eliz-2-Black.svg.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="910" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOQ7FQXlNcNa99isX4rWbaVhiDKjrz59m3M9B11VJKyJ0OvbS9Dfya--TzDFyiKZ_LeC1sq1YAQLrzMndjcRw5lEoKCflCACmUOx9H01k4x8foFCqkrvob0cunmVMOxutkRDQ4qRjMVtSjcLRqDprfEquh00vBxNimuljw0GvrblNNhCougY-yVjw/w211-h238/Royal-Cypher-Eliz-2-Black.svg.png" width="211" /></a></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Revd Matthew
P. Cadwell, PhD<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Old North
Church, Boston<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">Memorial Service
for Queen Elizabeth II<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">September 18, 2022</span></span></span></div>
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Changed from
glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place, till we cast our crowns
before thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: bold;">.</span><br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">This final line
from Charles Wesley’s glorious hymn may be among the most sublime in Christian
hymnody. And particularly fitting as we gather this morning, with heavy hearts
and hopeful spirits, to gave thanks for the extraordinary and singular life of
Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth. For she, too, has been changed from glory
into glory, taking her own place in heaven, no longer wearing an earthly crown
but instead an heavenly one.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I suspect that
like me, you found yourself washed by waves of emotion at news of the death of
Her Majesty 10 days ago. While we know that no human being lives forever,
somehow this time always seemed long in future and this human immortal. Queen
Elizabeth had such an abiding, even eternal seeming presence. Just two days
before, Her Majesty had accepted the resignation of one Prime Minister and
welcomed the next. In the photos from that day in Balmoral Her Majesty appeared
especially radiant—no crown or robes of state to distract from a deeper, inner
light. Upon reflection, perhaps Her Majesty was anticipating the even greater glory
to come on Thursday. Perhaps the glory from heaven was shining through even
then, had we only known.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">It has been moving
reading and hearing reflections on Queen Elizabeth’s impact on individual
lives. A friend in Toronto, who claimed not to be a royalist, shared a photo on
Facebook of a letter she had received from the Queen’s Lady in Waiting, dated
1979. The Lady was commanded (that’s the word used) to thank my friend for the
picture she drew as a kindergartner. It’s incredible to think how many such
letters must have been sent over 70-years. To children (and adults) across the
world, creating lasting bonds of affection.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Her Majesty’s more
recent adventures with James Bond and tea this summer with Paddington Bear, and
their shared appreciation for marmalade sandwiches (we now know what the Queen kept
in her handbag all those years), endeared her to young and old alike, when age
prevented her from being as publicly visible as she and we might have hoped. The
long ques filing past Her Majesty’s coffin, sometimes 24 hours waiting, testify
to the profound place Her Majesty secured in the hearts of a rainbow of people,
diverse in interests, beliefs, languages, races, and political persuasions.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">I read or heard
somewhere that in Her Majesty’s 70-year reign, Queen Elizabeth is estimated to
have met over 2 million people, with a special, unique power, to make them feel
special. We know that was true here at Old North. Her Majesty’s visit in 1976
is held in our collective memory as one of our proudest, most significant
moments. Many outside our community find it especially ironic, given this
church’s role at the start of the American Revolution. That, too, is a proud
moment, to be sure. But in visiting, Queen Elizabeth brought a unique kind of
magic that she alone possessed. She shone a special, radiant light that has
remained with us these 46 years.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In announcing the
death of Her Majesty, the U.K.’s new Prime Minister Liz Truss reflected that
the Second Elizabethan Age had ended, stating that Queen Elizabeth was the rock
on which modern Britain was built. The first Elizabeth reigned 44 years. The
second, 70 years, overseeing some of the greatest changes and evolutions in
world history. Many of them positive, as people across the globe, of different
colors, races, and backgrounds claimed right to self-determination, a beginning
in the long reckoning with colonialism (this church and its complicated history
being one manifestation), important work that has really just begun and will be
ongoing far into the future; as women, following the example of the Queen,
among others, asserted rights to equal leadership; as science and technology
enabled us to soar into the farthest heavens; as we built a new global
community and enduring alliances following two devastating world wars. Even the
seeming intractable hostility between Britain and Ireland have calmed in the
Queen’s time.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">We’ve also witnessed
and created unprecedented environmental destruction. It is fortunate that both
King Charles and Prince William are devoted to using their energies to conserve
what we can of our natural world, before it’s too late. Their shared passion
demonstrates how the monarchy can evolve, finding meaning and impact in each
new era, just as Her Late Majesty’s parents, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth,
gave inspiration and hope as the world was plunged into devastating war. In
each successive age, these servants have demonstrated the power of their high calling,
which comes not through legislative means, but through example.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Doubtless there
were multiple occasions when Her Majesty would have wanted to speak out on
issues of importance, perhaps even contradicting the positions of her
governments. With Prime Ministers as diverse as Churchill, Wilson, Thatcher,
Blair, and Johnson there must have been moments of personal disagreement. Her
people, too, might have wished, sometimes, that the Queen had taken liberty to
speak on issues of significance. But the Queen understood her role, her
calling, to be a different one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Among the most
eloquent statements following the Queen’s death was that of Sir Kier Starmer,
leader of the Most Loyal Opposition in the House of Commons. I’d like to share from
his statement:<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Nobody under the
age of 70 has known anything other than Queen Elizabeth II on the throne. For
the vast majority of us, the late Queen has been simply the Queen. The only
Queen. Above all else, our Queen.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <i>As we mourn her loss, we should also
treasure her life. Our longest-serving and greatest ever monarch. Above the
clashes of politics, she stood not for what the nation fought over. But what it
agreed upon. In crisis, she reassured us. Reminding us that we are all part of
something that stretches back through time. A symbol of the best of us…. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I had the privilege to meet the late
Queen, she would ask the most searching questions because she wanted to
understand the lives and struggles of her people. And as Britain changed
rapidly around her, this dedication became the still point of our turning
world. An example that taught us that whatever the challenges we face, the
value of service always endures. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></i><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">“She stood not for
what the nation fought over, but what it agreed upon.” That truth, in
particular, has stayed with me. It points to the value of the modern monarchy
as it has evolved, and why so many find themselves feeling tremendous loss for
someone they hadn’t met or certainly known, but who held a place of
inspiration, strength, hope, and example at the center of life. As Sir Kier, says
so beautifully, the Queen was a symbol of the best of us.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">While we did not
know Queen Elizabeth’s inner thoughts, what she thought of her several Prime
Ministers, the many US presidents she knew, or political debates over seven
decades, she did share her Christian faith, through televised Christmas
addresses. Addresses not prepared by Her Majesty’s government, but rather
expressing her own faith and conviction. In these speeches Her Majesty’s sought
to share the inspiration, comfort, and hope that characterizes Christian faith
at its best. In 2000 the Queen said: “To many of us our beliefs are of
fundamental importance. For me the teachings of Christ and my own personal
accountability before God provide a framework in which I try to lead my life.” And
in 2014: “For me, the life of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace… is an
inspiration and an anchor in my life. A role model of reconciliation and
forgiveness, he stretched out his hands in love, acceptance and healing.
Christ’s example has taught me to seek to respect and value all people, of
whatever faith or none.’”<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Assured of Her
Majesty’s deep faith, we can be confident that she was received into the
glorious arms of the God she followed and sought to serve so steadfastly, as
Queen, as Defender of the Faith and Supreme Governor of the Church, as a
disciple and follower of Christ. While we won’t have the blessing of seeing her
again, Her Majesty’s memory and example of service and devotion, from the
beginning of her life to the very end, will stand as inspiration for us all, as
we follow our own unique callings and lead our own lives of faith and service.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">In our Platinum
Jubilee celebration a few short months ago, I shared a reflection by <i>Boston
Globe</i> columnist David Wilson from the time of Her Majesty’s visit to Boston.
He suggested that Queen Elizabeth was “a thread of fine gold in the
often-shoddy fabric of our unruly times.” In her life, in her reign, Her
Majesty was a golden thread woven into different eras and cultures. Even as
there is great hope for those who will follow, none of us will see her like
again. And so, we join Paddington and those who loved the late Queen in saying,
“Thank you, for everything.”<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">May Her Late
Majesty Rest in Peace and Rise in Glory. And may we be inspired by her example. </span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i><b>Changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place, till we cast
our crowns before thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise. </b></i></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">Amen.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt;">© The Revd Matthew
P. Cadwell, PhD</span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-37735614371439391762019-09-20T15:12:00.000-07:002019-09-20T15:12:36.875-07:00Focus on Faith: Embracing Life and Counting Our Blessings<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wakefield
Daily Item<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Focus
on Faith<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The
Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Emmanuel
Episcopal Church <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3umfk9vCN2EdUs7Hx5ItOvYDaaYHTm6X_9OLRukYztKgKP6a0QLVKn4i988AkdoLOBHpefK4riQhRKybKsCu8vQZ61qGn83jk82c5T4bbSdXishPnt3IAjZSZ8-9jSRA4JDeso95Dj6U/s1600/Diane+D%2527souza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="250" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3umfk9vCN2EdUs7Hx5ItOvYDaaYHTm6X_9OLRukYztKgKP6a0QLVKn4i988AkdoLOBHpefK4riQhRKybKsCu8vQZ61qGn83jk82c5T4bbSdXishPnt3IAjZSZ8-9jSRA4JDeso95Dj6U/s320/Diane+D%2527souza.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last
weekend I attended a going-away party. Only the person going away, my friend
Diane, isn’t leaving in the usual sense. She isn’t moving. She is dying. Of
brain cancer. It is the same kind of cancer that Senators Ted Kennedy and John
McCain had. It was discovered last Christmas, when she was in San Francisco to
celebrate with her family. She had faced breast cancer a few years ago, and was
enjoying good health when this blow came. She had some memory loss and then
suddenly started having seizures. After surgery her doctors told her that the
cancer is at stage IV. They thought she might have 10 to 24 months to live. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Diane
is 59. She has lived all over the world—in the Midwest and New England, in
Montreal, and in India for over 20 years. She has a PhD in religious studies
that she completed in the Netherlands. In recent years her work has focused on
dismantling racism, teaching white people like me how to understand the effects
of racism at work in my life and in our society. She works with churches and
synagogues, with community groups, and even cities and towns. She helps us
understand that our lives are intertwined and deeply connected. Her life has
been a bright light. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While
the cancer is arrested at the moment, thanks to some trial medications, Diane
knows that there is no cure. So, while she could handle it, she invited her friends
and family to be with her for one grand autumn night. There were 50 or more of
us in her back yard—people from every race and background. Many were Christian,
while some were Jewish and others Buddhist or Hindu. Together we were eating an
Indian feast and sharing stores of life and love and loss. We began in the
daylight and stayed until it was very dark. We were reminded that all of us
there, at that moment, were alive. And that while we live we have much to teach
and learn from each other about the amazing gift that life offers us each day,
even when it’s hard. Maybe even especially when it’s hard. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finally,
after many had shared reflections of sadness and joy, as we were enveloped by
the night, Diane spoke—reflecting on her life and relationships. We couldn’t
see her, but we could hear her calm, peaceful voice. She shared love. She
shared gratitude. She shared some sadness, too. And she shared hope. Hope for
herself. Hope for her friends. Hope for the world she has known. I can’t
imagine how hard and unknown life must seem to Diane right now. But I also know
that she is a woman of profound faith—in God, in the power of life, and in the amazing
community of friends that she has built in the time that she has. Some of us,
many of us, likely won’t see Diane again. This was our chance to say goodbye. But
we can know that we shared our love with her and that, eventually, she will
carry that love with her into the heart of God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For
some of us, our days are short. And for others they are long. Regardless of
length, the gift and the challenge are the same: to embrace life while we can. Most
especially, to embrace the people we are blessed to share it with. As we begin
this beautiful fall season, I invite you to reach out to the people you are
blessed to share life with. Give thanks for them. Gather them around you if you
can. Share your love. Allow them to love you in return. And then, accept God’s
love as well—a love that created you, that seeks to fill your soul, and that promises
always to draw you back to God’s heart. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We
are told that we should not count our blessings. But maybe we should. Maybe we
should count them, and be thankful for them. Not because they are so few, but
because they are so many. Because these blessings give us life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-77343433578057941992019-08-12T15:04:00.002-07:002019-08-12T15:15:11.668-07:00Do not be afraid: A sermon on El Paso, Dayton, Immigrants and the Treasures of Heaven<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesus
said to his disciples, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's
good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” And then he says, “Make purses for
yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no
thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your
heart will be also.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YFnt6YzDG0UZUFSvTHdpEUeENBgC3jl4zLjR7QJ7KJmHZh8HzJ0URgNScfEQOlpBQw76veeQuterBY-1OJA4QLePoBl1dmwCfVEQzZQA72duEbHgmayB48wzidgjCECjbURUchqUsss/s1600/Terror+in+America.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YFnt6YzDG0UZUFSvTHdpEUeENBgC3jl4zLjR7QJ7KJmHZh8HzJ0URgNScfEQOlpBQw76veeQuterBY-1OJA4QLePoBl1dmwCfVEQzZQA72duEbHgmayB48wzidgjCECjbURUchqUsss/s400/Terror+in+America.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Do
not be afraid. It is the most repeated phrase in the Bible. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But... it is not easy
in a world like ours. It is not easy, sometimes, a lot of times, not to be
afraid. Last weekend, our nation suffered two more mass shootings. In El Paso,
Texas, a gunman broke into a mall and targeted Mexicans and people of Hispanic
descent, killing 22. Just because he thought they didn’t belong in this
country. Because he thought they didn’t deserve to live. Because his heart and
soul were infected by racism, and because he had access to weapons that can
kill. Less than 24 hours later, in Dayton, Ohio, another gunman killed 9. His
motivation is less clear, but it seems that his heart was infected by sexism
and misogyny. He was suspended in high school for making a "rape
list" of classmates he wanted to sexually assault. He even killed his own
sister.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then,
on Wednesday this week, the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement raided a number
of food processing plants, detaining as many as 680 undocumented workers. The
single largest ICE raid in US history. Notably, it came on the first day of
school. So that when kids came home, their parents were gone. The employers
weren’t arrested for hiring undocumented workers, just the people working in
hot smelly jobs that most of us would not want. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
have to be honest. I don’t see Jesus in any of this. I don’t see Jesus in guns,
whether automatic or semi-automatic, or even handguns. And I don’t see Jesus in
separating children from their parents, and tearing people away from their work,
their homes, and their communities. For a nation that claims to live “under
God, with liberty and justice for all” we have a lot to learn. About justice.
About liberty. About America. And most especially about God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Did
you notice, in our first reading from Isaiah, that it mentioned the infamous
cities of Sodom and Gomorrah? Cities destroyed for their sinful ways. It has long
been assumed that those sins were sexual, and often people have understood it
to be about homosexuality in particular. But that’s not the perspective of the
Bible. When, in the Old Testament, as in Isaiah, these places of greatest sin
and abomination are mentioned, it is in relation to how they (and we) treat
people. How we treat strangers and those in need. How we show hospitality. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hear,
again, what Isaiah says: “Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the
evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek
justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For Isaiah, for Jesus, and for us, this is the
path to life, to blessedness, to receiving the kingdom that God intends for us.
Not through guns, not through racism, misogyny, xenophobia, and so much else
that infects human hearts, but justice, rescue for the oppressed, support for the
most vulnerable in our midst. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
fact, as Isaiah clearly says, God does not even want our “thoughts and prayers”
if they are not accompanied by justice and care for the most vulnerable: for
immigrants, for strangers, for widows, orphans, and anyone who is oppressed: “Bringing
offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and sabbath and
calling of convocation--I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity…. When
you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make
many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesus
said: “Do not be afraid.” And then he said, “Where your treasure is, there your
heart will be also.” They go together, I think. Refusing fear. Turning away
from it, and then setting our hearts on the things of God. On the people of God—the
wonderful, beautiful, extraordinary people that God has made. Of every
language, race, color, background, orientation, and ability. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One
of the ways that I believe we set our hearts on the people of God, is by
hearing their story. So, here are some of the stories of the people of God. (<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2019/08/04/el-paso-shooting-victims/" target="_blank">Adapted from the Washington Post article</a>). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For
Jordan (aged 24) and Andre Anchondo (aged 23) of El Paso, Saturday was meant to
be a day of celebration. The couple had just marked their first wedding
anniversary. In 2018, Andre left the family auto-repair business to set up his
own shop, Andre House of Granite and Stone. In his free time, he built a house
for his young family, laboring under the Texas sun hours at a time. Jordan was
a stay-at-home mom. The couple was ready to show off their new house. Friends
and family were invited to a big party, but the Anchondos never made it. Jordan’s
sister said that based on their baby’s injuries, it appeared that she died
while trying to shield the 2 month old from the shooter. “He pretty much lived
because she gave her life,” her sister said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Elsa
Mendoza, aged 57, was a teacher and school principal who lived and worked in
Mexico. She was in El Paso visiting family. She stopped by Walmart to pick up a
few things from the grocery section, leaving her husband and son in the car. She
never emerged from the store.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Her
expertise was in special education, but she was principal of an elementary
school with a range of students. She was known for her optimism. “Mendoza “used
to say, ‘Things done with love are done better,’ and she was always ready to
help."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Javier
Rodriguez, aged 15, was among the youngest killed in El Paso. He was just weeks
away from starting his sophomore year of high school. “He was such a loving
boy,” his aunt, said. Soccer was a major part of Javier’s routine at in school.
He came to school early to play with friends, skip lunch to practice with the
varsity girls team, and then head off to his own junior varsity training in the
afternoon. “This boy was like as an energy bunny,” his coach said. "And
for him, it was nothing but soccer.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gloria
Márquez, 61, was born in Mexico and moved to the U.S. more than two decades
ago. Her first two children were born in Mexico, her second two in the States. “The
kids were everything to her,” said John Ogaz, her companion of 11 years. When
Ogaz, a US citizen born in El Paso, met Márquez, he was living in a trailer.
Márquez earned a modest income as a health care assistant for elderly patients
and helped him move into a home. They considered each other husband and wife,
though they never formally married. They lived together in El Paso, surrounded
by children and grandchildren. On Saturday, Ogaz and Márquez went to Walmart
together. They split up minutes before the shooter entered the building, she
heading to the ATM and he waiting for her at McDonald’s. For five hours, he
called her phone from the parking lot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At
90 years old, Luis Juarez had lived the American Dream. He immigrated to the
United States, became a citizen, bought a home and made a career as an iron
worker. He and his wife of 70 years, Martha, raised a family that included
seven children, 20 grandchildren, 35 great-grandchildren and eight
great-great-grandchildren. Before retiring, he had helped erect many buildings
in El Paso and Los Angeles. Luis’s family remembered him as generous,
understanding, hard-working and curious. “We are celebrating the life of an
American who served to build our country,” his family said. They expected him
to live to 100. “We were looking forward to many more years and that was stolen
away from us,” the family said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
stories of those killed in Dayton, Ohio are equally moving. Students, parents,
friends out for a night together. (<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2019/08/04/dayton-shooting-victims-who-they-were/" target="_blank">Details here</a>). To say nothing of those detained last week in
the immigration raids, people looking for a better, safer, more secure life for
themselves and their children. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
don’t know what the answer is to the increasingly disheartening and even frightening
time in which we live. I don’t know how we respond to Jesus command, “Do be
afraid, Little flock.” Unless it means that we are being called to turn our
backs on the fear that leads to racism and sexism. Turn our backs on the fear
that leads us to rely on guns for our safety. And, turn our backs on the fear that
leads us to think that there is only room here—in the church, in the country,
in human life, for those who are somehow like us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We
are called to turn our backs on all of these, which like moth and rust destroy
our nation and eat away at our souls. And instead, we are called to store up
for ourselves the treasures of heaven. The treasures of life—and not only for
us, but for all whom God has created and loves. When we do, I believe we will
discover that there’s no end to the possibilities in life, and no limit to the
joy and love and abundance offered us. God offers us even the whole of the kingdom
of God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesus
said to his disciples, "Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your
Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give
alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in
heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure
is, there your heart will be also.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">©
The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-12905206460999967512019-08-10T14:31:00.002-07:002019-08-10T14:33:48.183-07:00You are the Light of the World: A Homily for Cathy Conboy, Psy.D.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“You are the light of the world,” Jesus said.
“Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and
glorify your Father in heaven.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">These are words that have inspired Christians
for 2000 years. In 1990, they inspired Cathy and Mark, who chose them as the
gospel reading for their wedding. And now, today, they inspire us as we come
together in love to celebrate Cathy’s extraordinary life, and entrust her to
God arms. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cathy
most certainly was, and still is, a bright light in a world that sometimes can
seem very dark. And like the light that Jesus called her and us all to be, Cathy
shone not to exalt or draw attention to herself, but to give life and hope to
others—to her family and friends, to her patients, and to many she helped but
never met.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cathy
understood, probably better than most, that we need to summon the strength and
the courage to embrace each day and each moment (and sometimes wrestle with each
day and moment), to wring every drop of life from the time, the relationships and
the abundant gifts we have been given. Cathy understood that if we are to be
lights to the world, whatever our challenges, we can’t stay hidden away, in a
room or under a bushel basket as Jesus says, but rather out and alive, burning
brightly for others to see. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of
the many stories that Mark, Mary, and Alice shared with me, a few stand out as
being the epitome of Cathy. The first, is how Mark and Cathy met—their first
day in grad school, back in 1984, standing in line waiting to register. That
night they went on a double date to a disco kind of place. Mark asked Cathy if
she wanted to dance. Only she said, “I don’t dance.” So, Mark asked if she
wanted a drink. Only she said, “I don’t drink beer.” Then he said, “You don’t
have much fun, do you?” Not the successful first date. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
fact, they got in a fight and didn’t see or talk to each other for several
months. Until they realized that for them there were no better matches out
there. Whatever spark they felt in that first meeting was still there. So,
thankfully, they tried again. Anyone who knew Cathy, even later in life, can recognize
her in that story. She could be stormy and opinionated. She had strong feelings
about, well, practically everything. And she had a spark, a light, that shone
in the darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When
I asked Mark what he might say about Cathy’s impact on him, he thought for a
while and then shared this: “what I admired the most about Cathy was her strong
will. She is one of the few people who have been consistently able to stand up
to me and get me to change my mind or do something I didn’t originally want to…
especially when we disagreed about matters she felt were important. She stood
her ground.” And then he added, “By being her partner and supporting her I
could help the world (animals, children, the poor, the needy, promote cruelty
free cosmetics, recycling, condemn mean spirited politics, etc.)…. Being her
husband made me a better, more complete person.” That’s quite the testimony.
Quite the legacy. Quite the light. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mary
and Alice, I think it’s hard for children, of any age, to know how much your
mom loves you. How devoted she was to you. Even before she met you. I don’t
think any daughters could possibly be more cherished and valued than you have been.
Your mom and dad traveled across the world to find you, to meet you, and give
you a home—not only here in Massachusetts, but most importantly in their hearts,
in your mom’s heart. Mary, from a video sent from Russia, you enchanted your
parents with your personality. And Alice, you started out undernourished, and
look at you now. Look at both of you now—so beautiful, so stylish and poised, with
so much life ahead of you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
was so deeply moved to hear how Mary, your first morning with your mom, in St.
Petersburg, was Mother’s Day. She awoke that Mother’s Day as a mom, for the
first time. And the last day you both shared with her was also Mother’s Day—a
visit she awaited with such anticipation. She didn’t want you to see how sick
she was. But she did want you to know how much she loved you, and loves you
still. You were the lights in your mother’s life. The brightest stars in her sky.
She didn’t have as much time with you as she would have wanted, but she
certainly prepared you for your own lives—so that you, too, can be lights to
the world. Allow her to shine through you. If you live like she lived, if you
love like she loved, if you care like she cared, you mom’s legacy will be long
and bright. So very bright, just like you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We
shouldn’t forget that Cathy was also a person of deep faith. Church was
important to her. This church. Where she worshipped and raised her girls. Over
the past decade she organized the acolytes (not an easy job sometimes—but two
of her acolyte alumni, John and Ian, are serving with us today, a testament to
her ministry). She participated in weekly adult education sessions—sometimes arguing
with me about theological topics, and sold plants and flowers to support
refugees. She organized a yard sale which raised over $2000 to support the
people of Syria in the most war-torn area of the world. And most recently, she
was deeply concerned about the plight of immigrants at the border. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cathy’s
faith shaped her worldview. It also, I think, gave her courage as she lived
with her complex health. Each week we quietly prayed for healing as she came to
the rail for Communion. And while her lupus wasn’t cured through those prayers,
she was strengthened to meet each new day. Firm, I think, in the knowledge that
her life was always in God’s hands—the same God who created her and lit that
spark of life in her soul.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And
just as Cathy came here each week in faith, so we come today. In faith and
trust. Firm in the belief, and not just belief, but the knowledge, that Cathy’s
lives still. That she is still in God’s hands. And even more, she alive now,
and forever, at the center of God’s heart. Waiting for us, of course, for that
time when we are reunited. And in the meantime, she is there encouraging us,
inspiring us, to continue her work and share in her passions and convictions:
for children and refugees, immigrants and victims of war. For animals and our
fragile, broken and beautiful earth. For all those who have no one to defend
them. All this from her place at the center of God’s heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All
goodbyes are hard. And this one especially. Cathy was too young. Her family, depended
on her too much. Her friends and her church, too. I miss her. I miss her smile.
Her laugh. Her honest and unvarnished opinions. But most especially her caring.
Her deep love for everyone, and her passion for justice. She leaves a whole in
our hearts. And yet, we know through the example of her life and her faith, her
strength and fortitude, that she would want us all to live. That she would want
us, like her, to wring every drop of life we can out of the time we have. Enjoying
music and the Jersey shore. Loving our families and friends. Caring for the
earth and its people. Trusting in the promises of God. Promises that for Cathy
are fulfilled. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesus
said, “You are the light of the world… Let your light shine before others, so that
they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Cathy
answered that call. She lived it. And now, today, from God’s heart, she shines
through us, so that we too might bring light to others. Let’s do exactly that.
Let’s make her proud and shine a light of hope in the world that is very dark. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">©
The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-29992291751534852802019-06-02T16:30:00.002-07:002019-06-02T16:30:23.524-07:00On Crossing (and Breaking Down) Borders: A Sermon Following the Ascension<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKln_oMxD6dw_ByuYtMFiYLkag3bZNeqdeqqob6lkdAL7pB2-8ylCjh0CnkvcbKQ7Ho1Ucw3xUd12Ahk8h1liSz0o-lKh8m7N7WUzUq-i9CZU4wpUPA2XjviErNzYMIqKhPtLEs23fTm8/s1600/Visa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKln_oMxD6dw_ByuYtMFiYLkag3bZNeqdeqqob6lkdAL7pB2-8ylCjh0CnkvcbKQ7Ho1Ucw3xUd12Ahk8h1liSz0o-lKh8m7N7WUzUq-i9CZU4wpUPA2XjviErNzYMIqKhPtLEs23fTm8/s320/Visa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anyone who travels internationally know
what it is to cross borders. When I lived in Toronto I was always anxious returning,
after a visit to the US. I had a study visa that granted entry, but you never
know. The border guards were usually surprised when I stood at the desk and
handed them my US passport. They’d ask my business in Canada and my usual response
was “I live here,” leading them to study the visa, ask some more questions—because it was granted for an unusually long period (6 years)</span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">—</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">but then eventually
they’d stamp it, and I’d be let back in. As a white person with considerable
privilege, I am rarely subjected to deeper questioning because of my racial
identity, as countless others are.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our border crossings are nothing compared
to what people around the world encounter as they seek new lives and safe
homes. Many die as they make their journeys over water or land—they drown in
leaky rafts, suffocate in transport vehicles, or even are shot as they try to
leave one country and enter a new one. Upon arrival in new lands refugees and
asylum seekers often are forced to live in prisons and detention centers as
their cases are investigated. Sometimes, we’ve learned, children are separated
from parents—perhaps never to be reunited. Border crossings can be occasions of
joy and hope, or of fear and trepidation, and sometimes all of these at once. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This week, on Thursday, Christians around
the world observed a border crossing of sorts on the Feast of the Ascension—when,
it is believed, the risen Christ ascended into heaven, to take his place at the
right hand of God. In a sermon a few weeks ago I suggested that in the earliest
Christian belief the Easter resurrection and the ascension were more closely
related, perhaps even unified. These earliest Christians believed that in the
resurrection Jesus was raised and exalted to the heart of God. So, when Jesus
appears to his friends on Easter day and following, he returns from God’s heart
to confirm that he is not dead, and that in the resurrection God had unleashed
a new power into the world: the power of life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Over time those appearances were less frequent,
leading Luke to tell the story of the Ascension in the Acts of the Apostles.
But it’s not inconsistent with the earlier view, at least not necessarily. It
may be that the Ascension essentially represents the final time that Jesus
appeared among his friends in that way, closing that chapter of the
resurrection story, while simultaneously beginning a new one—helping his
friends to get on the with work of being his disciples; helping them to
spiritually grow up; to be, really and truly, the risen and living Body of
Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is there that we seemed to have
struggled. Too often, we have come to believe that God is far away, even out of
the way, rather than in our midst. How else could we abide by so much violence
and chaos in our country and across the world? Another mass shooting in
Virginia, leaving 12 dead. Children at the U.S. border kept in cages. People across
the world targeted for their faith or race or sexuality. Would we allow such,
if we believed that God were still here among us? Would we turn away from the
cries of the poor, hungry, and oppressed if we believed that God was among us? If
we believed that God lives among and in those on the margins?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Rather than going away, when Jesus ascended
he crossed the border between humanity and divinity. In fact, he broke down the
border between God and us—such that it no longer exists, at least not as it did
before. While in the short span of his life Jesus was, we believe, the earthly
dwelling place of God—teaching, healing, reconciling and inspiring—that dwelling
now is us. He is not gone. He is alive and present in us and through us—still
teaching, still healing and reconciling, still inspiring, in and through all
who are baptized into his life. His life is our life. Our life is his life. He
is not gone. He is here. Or, he can be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This is a heavy calling. If we are to make
Christ present, it requires that we live like Christ. That we love like Christ.
And most especially, it requires that we cross borders like Christ—the borders
of exclusion and discrimination, the borders that seek to divide color, gender,
sexuality, language, economic status, religion, or national origin. It requires
that we cross them. And then tear them down. Just as Germans of the 1980s tore
down the Berlin Wall, piece by piece, reshaping their nation and the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As the Body of Christ, we likewise are called
to reshape our nation and our world—tearing down walls and borders, drawing people
closer and closer to God’s heart, and in the process defeating the powers of
sin, and evil, and death. In other words, we are called to live resurrection.
We are called to <i>be</i> resurrection. Not in a misty, other worldly way. But
in a real way, in a human way, in a broken and bruised and crucified, and yet
living way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I believe Jesus left his friends’ sight so
that they could live the resurrection life themselves. So that they could cross
and overcome the boundaries of life and death. So that they could realize that
who he was, is also who they (and we) are—God’s presence living and undefeated
presence and power in and for the world. A power through which the borders and
divisions of the old world—borders that exclude and promote death through guns,
war, and hatred—are transcended, dismantled, and destroyed. As they are torn
down, new and abundant life will flourish—the life and the power of God,
unleashed in and for us and for the whole world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus said: “<i>As you, Father, are in me and
I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you
have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may
be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely
one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even
as you have loved me</i>.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The life of resurrection. The life of God. The
Life of us. May we find it so. With God, may we make it so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-72621272967174018992019-05-26T10:48:00.000-07:002019-05-26T20:26:10.338-07:00Do You Want to be Healed?: An Easter Sermon After the Death of a Friend<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">“</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt;">After Jesus healed the son of the official
in Capernaum, there was a festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.
Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew
Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids-- blind, lame,
and paralyzed [<i>waiting for the stirring
of the water; for an angel of the Lord went down at certain seasons into the
pool, and stirred up the water; whoever stepped in first after the stirring of
the water was made well from whatever disease that person had</i>]. One man was
there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there
and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be
made well?’ The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the
pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else
steps down ahead of me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat and walk.’
At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. Now
that day was a sabbath.’ <i>John 5:1-9</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Every
once in a while we have a choice for our scripture readings on a given Sunday.
Usually the choice is with the Old Testament reading, or maybe the psalm. A
choice of gospel, as we had today, is unusual. Earlier this week Julie asked me
which to include in the leaflet and I picked the miracle story. It seemed more
interesting somehow than Jesus’ farewell message to his friends. As the week
has unfolded I’ve realize how significant that choice was. The story of the man
healed at the pool of Beth-Zada has a lot to tell us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
text doesn’t give us the diagnosis of his ailment, but seems to be a kind of
paralysis, since he couldn’t get into the pool. There’s also missing portion of
the gospel story as we heard it, which appears in some manuscripts: it
says that an angel of the Lord is the one who stirs up the waters and gives
them healing powers. That was omitted in our reading because not all early sources
include it. And because it is a little fantastic. The place, though, was real.
Archeologists found it in the 1960s. With five porticoes, to the northeast of
the Temple. The idea of the pool—whether the water is stirred by an angel or
some other source, perhaps a natural spring—is that only the first person who
entered it after the waters were enlivened received the healing powers and was
cured. Others had to wait until the next time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Remember, this is in Jerusalem, just outside the Temple. And today’s event happens during
a festival. You can imagine all sorts of pilgrims in search of healing (similar
to Lourdes or Walsingham), likely a rush to get in first. And because this man
was paralyzed and didn’t seem to have assistance, he always missed out—for as many
as 38 years. One wonders whether he had family or friends who maybe could have
helped him. Or maybe he lost them, spending all his time at the pool.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We
might even wonder if he really wanted to be healed. In fact, Jesus asks him
just that question: “Do you want to be healed?” The man doesn’t answer
directly, but instead focuses on his inability to jump into the pool in time. The
gospels rarely offer any psychological insights into the figures we meet. But
we might conclude that he was stuck, paralyzed--physically, emotionally,
spiritually. Why else spend so much time there at the pool? 38 years is a lot of
life to lose, waiting for a miracle that might never come.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like the man in the gospel story, sometimes we, too, get stuck. Even paralyzed. If not physically, then certainly
emotionally, spiritually, mentally. Sometimes we cannot even imagine
a different future for ourselves—whatever the problem is, a difficult job, a
difficult relationship, a worry about our health, addictions, dark places and
dark thoughts that hold us in their grip. We’d like to be healed or freed, but can’t
figure out how to make it happen. Maybe, like the man in the gospel story, we
feel that we don’t have anyone who can help us, or we are afraid to ask, or in
some cases, we’ve become so turned in on ourselves that we’ve let the
relationships that can give us life fall away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Each
of us has a different experience and reality, but the effect can be much the
same. And like the man in the gospel story, we too are met by Christ, who asks
us, as well, if we want to be healed. Do we truly want new life? Or, is it
easier if we stay stuck, paralyzed, afraid?</span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s
interesting that when Jesus tells the man in the story that he should stand up
and walk, the Greek word used can mean, simply, “stand up,” but it can also
mean “resurrect.” I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Because I think Jesus is
really telling this man, who had been so lost, so stuck, and so broken for so
long, that he should be resurrected. He should live. He should be alive. The
physical healing is important in the story. But far more, I think, is the
spiritual healing—healing that leads to wholeness and new life. A life not
spent waiting for a miracle by a pool, but instead lived in and with God, and
hopefully in and with others. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Friday
afternoon I learned of the unexpected death of our friend and parishioner Cathy
Conboy when her husband Mark called. The news came as a shock to me, and to
everyone I talked with on Friday. We’ve had
more than our share of deaths of wonderful parishioners over the past 11 years,
many of them proverbial pillars of the church, but something about Cathy’s
seems different to me. She was younger, still active in her many ministries,
looking forward to her daughter Alice’s high school graduation next week. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cathy
is someone who, like the man in the gospel, suffered with a sometimes debilitating
physical condition. She lived with lupus for many years, and a long list of
accompanying complications. Life wasn’t easy for Cathy. Sometimes it was very
hard. It is not what she would have envisioned or chosen for herself—or for her
family. And yet, unlike the man in this morning’s gospel story, Cathy did not
put her life on hold while waiting for a miracle of physical healing. Instead,
she chose to live. She chose to stand up and walk, when she could--to resurrect
herself--drawing strength and courage from her family, her friends, and from
her faith. Even in the darkest days, she showed us how to live and how to love.
She showed us that physical limitations need not hold us back. She understood, probably better than those blessed with more robust
health, that life has to be lived. Every day that we are alive is a day worth
living.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It is
astounding to think of all the ways that Cathy was engaged here at church, even
as she struggled with her health: organizing our acolytes and serving on the
worship committee for several years; serving on the mission commission—selling
plants and flowers to support refugees and organizing a massive yard sale to
support the people of war-torn Syria. She helped deliver carloads of backpacks
and school supplies to Housing Families, and brought boxes of donated winter coats
and joined a tour at Lazarus House in Lawrence. Cathy hosted coffee hours and often engaged in adult education sessions. She took watercolor classes
and was active in a book group with her many friends. All the while she was
raising her daughters, instilling in them faith and confidence, giving them the
best foundation for life she could. When I visited her at Mass General two
weeks before she died, she nearly glowed with joy when talking Mary and Alice.
She was proud of their accomplishments, but even more for the people they are. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cathy
knew too well that life can be shorter than we’d like sometimes. And so we need to
stand up and walk—not waiting for a miracle to happen to us and for us—but
instead, grabbing hold of the full, wonderful, resurrection life that God
offers each of us, even now, even when our bodies or spirits may not be as healthy or as strong as we would want.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Do
you want to be made well?” Jesus asked the man in the gospel. And he asks the same
of us. The man in the gospel story didn’t really answer. But we can. Like our
friend Cathy we can choose to be well, even in our limitations. We can choose
resurrection. We can choose to pick up our mats, stand up and walk, into the
future, into the life, that God has prepared for us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-70186364976584349772019-05-02T19:15:00.002-07:002019-05-02T19:15:51.908-07:00Reflections for the National Day of Prayer Interfaith Service<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Reflections for the National Day of Prayer
Interfaith Service</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Following Terror Attacks in Sri Lanka and San Diego</i></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Emmanuel Episcopal Church<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Wakefield, Mass.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">May 2, 2019<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thank
you for your presence tonight as we come together on this National Day of
Prayer. National Days of Prayer have been called for from the earliest days of
our nation, as we have fought wars, discerned our future, and struggled with
what it means to be American. Since 1988, the date has been established by
Congress as the first Thursday in May. It is a reminder that we as a people are
stronger when we come together, as we do tonight, under the providence and love
of God. This is not a Christian observance, nor a Jewish one, nor Muslim or
Buddhist. But instead is meant to unite us across our diverse and distinct
faith traditions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tonight,
we honor and remember, in particular, those killed on Easter morning in a
horrific massacre in Sri Lanka, now Christian martyrs, and subsequently near
San Diego as Passover came to its close, another American Jewish martyr, who
took bullets to protect her rabbi. We also hold in our hearts those killed this
week in Charlotte, North Carolina. While we don’t know the motivation behind
the latter, we do know that religious hatred fueled the shootings in Sri Lanka
and San Diego. Just as it did in Pittsburgh and Christchurch, New Zealand, and
in so many other places across the world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Unfortunately,
religious faith—meant to provide life and hope—has become for some a weapon.
This is not new. Just look to the history of the crusades, or the inquisition,
the Reformation or the Holocaust. Consider Northern Ireland, too. Somewhere
along the way many have come to believe that only those who look like them,
live like them, and pray like them, deserve God, and even deserve to live. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But
here’s the problem with that perspective. Whenever we limit acceptability to
those just like us, we end up excluding everyone but us. Because no one
believes in exactly the same way. No one lives in exactly the same way. And
often times, even those we love find themselves drawn in new directions. Your
Catholic daughter falls in love with a Protestant. Your Orthodox Jewish son
discerns that he is gay. Your Democratic mother marries a Republican. A Muslim
family moves next door. Your uncle announces he finds life in practicing
Buddhism. We are all different. We are all unique. And from a faith
perspective, we believe that God made us all—in our rainbow of diversity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
so, our unity as a human family—a Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu,
gay and straight, Native American and African American, Swedish and Italian and
even Irish family—our unity must be deeper than our outward appearance or the
prayer books we use. Our unity must even be deeper than the many names we use
for God. Rather, from a faith perspective, we have to realize that our unity is
in God and from God, in the humanity we share. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We’ve
got to figure that out, we’ve got to live it. Because we can’t afford to lose
more sons and daughters of faith to brutal violence. We need them. We need
their witness. And we can’t afford to lose any black brothers and native
sisters, or LGBTQ sons or daughters to violence or suicide. We need them. God
needs them. God needs us all. God must. Because God made us all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
so, tonight we come together in faith, in sorrow, and also in hope. Hope that
our prayers, and then our action, will help to transform this dark and all-too
deadly world into something else. Something filled with light and love. It
starts here. And it starts with us. Right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">©
The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-26758563370950611402019-04-28T10:32:00.000-07:002019-04-28T10:32:24.009-07:00On Doubt, Faith, and New Life in Christ: An Easter Sermon for a Good Friday world<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Easter, as we usually think of it, is about life and joy, flowers,
bunnies, chocolate and jelly beans. And those are all great. We need more joy
and chocolate in life. And everyone loves bunnies. But the thing about Easter
is that behind the joy, or perhaps alongside it, is also sadness, fear,
uncertainty, and doubt. Because, of course, a big part of the Easter story and
the discovery of the empty tomb is all that leads up to it—the cross and
denials, the confusion and doubts, and hiding in fear behind locked doors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, while on Easter morning we smile and get dressed up, we break
into the chocolate and jellybeans, there is often also a sense with the
disciples, tucked in the back of our minds, of wondering how these wonderful
stories of resurrection and new life could possibly be true. Jesus’ friends
struggle, and so, too, we, because we know first-hand that pain and death,
grief and loss are all part of human life, in seemingly great and endless
abundance. While the more positive, hopeful, joyful aspects of the Easter story
often seem elusive and harder to verify. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have been reflecting on all of this a lot this week, as we’ve
learned more about the horrific terror attacks in Sri Lanka on Easter morning. Suicide
bombers killed over 250 people in churches and hotels as families gathered to
celebrate with joy the promise of new life in Christ. Catholic church services
were cancelled in Sri Lanka today, while Anglicans were urged to use an
abundance of caution in deciding whether or not to gather. And then, yesterday,
we learned of a shooting at a synagogue near San Diego, killing one and
injuring others as the Jewish community completes their Passover celebrations. It
was six months to the day from the shootings at the Tree of Life Synagogue in
Pittsburgh. The 19-year old gunman cited as inspirations the Tree of Life
shooting, as well as the mosque shooting in New Zealand, Hilter, and even Jesus.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jewish targets, Muslim targets, Christian targets. All human
targets. And we feel helpless to stop the violence, helpless to stop the hate. We
can understand why the disciples locked their doors. Afraid of going out,
afraid of letting anyone in. Afraid of life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But, the gospel tells us and our faith tells us, even as the
doors are locked, even as the disciples are afraid for their lives, hope breaks
in. Because Jesus breaks in. He literally breaks into their locked room and their
locked hearts, offering peace. “Peace be with you,” Jesus says. Peace. Do not
be afraid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus tells them, in fact he shows them, that they have no
reason to fear, because ultimately God is in charge—not the religious leaders,
not the soldiers or Pontius Pilate or not even Caesar. But God. Jesus appears
to them that Easter evening so that they know that their life and the life of
the world is really, truly, in God’s hands, God’s crucified and risen hands, despite
how it may seem. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Easter is God’s way of telling us that there’s nothing that the
world can dole out, however fearful, however horrific, that God can’t transform
into something better. Now, that transformation doesn’t erase what happened
earlier, it doesn’t make it go away—the wounds of Jesus’ crucifixion are still
there—but God takes it and is able in some mysterious way to bring new life. We
just don’t always know what that new life will be, or how it will look. It
likely will be different than life before, just as Jesus is different after the
resurrection. But it’s no less real. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But we have to believe, or maybe the better word is trust,
in the truth and power of resurrection. Speaking personally, I have to believe and
trust in Easter and resurrection, because without that belief and trust, all we
are left with is Good Friday. And, because I believe that God is always more
powerful than evil, that God is more powerful than death, and that God is more
powerful than the many Good Fridays that we exact on the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, like us, it seems that Jesus’ friends and disciples
didn’t come to this belief or trust immediately. That’s essentially the meaning
behind the Thomas story. It can take time. And sometimes we want proof. We want
proof that this faith of ours is not just a fairy tale. We want proof that it’s
really real. It’s okay to struggle, especially in times of grief, trauma, and
disorientation. Sometimes, like the disciples, we may not even recognize when
the new life of resurrection is standing right in front of us. If you remember
last week’s Easter story, the same was true for Mary Magdalene in the garden on
Easter morning, until Jesus called her by name, until she dried her eyes and
saw him standing there, with her, in her grief and doubt and love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But hopefully, eventually, like Mary and like Thomas, we
realize that the love of God is breaking in and breaking through—helping us to
see and believe in new ways. In deeper ways than we could have imagined or
known. Hopefully, eventually, we realize that God’s Easter love is transforming
us, from the inside out, into something new, something different, something
more alive—even as each day brings its own new manifestation of Good Friday. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I said in my Easter sermon last Sunday that the resurrection
is not only, or simply, or even mostly something that happened to Jesus a long
time ago. It is something that happens to each and everyone of us. Resurrection
is the promise and reality of our life in and as the Body of Christ. It is the
reality that life is stronger than death. That love is more powerful than hate.
And that God lived and lives still in the midst of us—giving us life and hope, courage
and joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I’d like to close by sharing from a sermon preached by the
Rev. Richard Q. Elvee—my college’s chaplain from 1962 to 2000. He had a special
way about him—his words, his enactment of the liturgy, his Thomas-like
scepticism and embrace of questions more than answers. In a sermon called “A
Doorway in Time”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he preached:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Today Jesus comes into the human heart through a doorway in
time, a doorway, not to the past, but to a level of reality freed from time.
When we hear, ‘Peace be with you” in this church today, a presence comes
through the door. This is the upper room. The hands once opened to Thomas are opened
to us. The Resurrection is always beginning again; we do not have to find it by
a search of the past. It is an experience here and now if we begin to live in
the Lord’s peace. …for God is the beginning and the end of every time and every
place, so that in the midst of this mysterious life, which entails so much
suffering as well as joy, the doorways yield silently to the One who comes with
peace, lives and dies in us, is never absent from the room again.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunkLOtxlba160gwKwo-lLHYaPW1ZbEn8MujyGS-QMDlg1Mn5lOz0yUlC58jkXnUqzVLPZM6XJpqb5_RTrSgF9rSljfMKxn2xDEJeRKCTWS2TWz3St2CLxfEb2rX7ah4FruLulY0uLh94/s1600/Jesus+resurrection+light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="418" data-original-width="800" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunkLOtxlba160gwKwo-lLHYaPW1ZbEn8MujyGS-QMDlg1Mn5lOz0yUlC58jkXnUqzVLPZM6XJpqb5_RTrSgF9rSljfMKxn2xDEJeRKCTWS2TWz3St2CLxfEb2rX7ah4FruLulY0uLh94/s320/Jesus+resurrection+light.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That’s the promise of resurrection: that God is never absent
from this room, from our rooms, again. As we gather today, allow God to break
in. Allow God to show you the wounds of the world, to fill your heart and your
soul with love and new life. Allow God to transform you with Easter life. And
then, allow God to shine through you to give new, resurrection life to others.
Because this Good Friday world needs that love and that life. It needs God,
shining through you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P.
Cadwell, PhD</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-62412484256180527412019-04-21T18:07:00.001-07:002019-04-21T18:07:38.328-07:00Christ is Risen: A Sermon on Mary Magdalene, Easter Eggs, and the Power of Resurrection<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjka8qTif-3_xNlL5sZaKCYqUuSlgo1-QP_9BWBWUsKXqdvt_mtyifrMW-7ZtKTrCmykfTSpYoSRre2x8oFCEzHcvM5UnT0SEUqeODhx_0v0SZDUzWpkyULwGJ4kSE9ZoP2lo7D4v1B4zI/s1600/Mary+Magdalene+Egg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="465" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjka8qTif-3_xNlL5sZaKCYqUuSlgo1-QP_9BWBWUsKXqdvt_mtyifrMW-7ZtKTrCmykfTSpYoSRre2x8oFCEzHcvM5UnT0SEUqeODhx_0v0SZDUzWpkyULwGJ4kSE9ZoP2lo7D4v1B4zI/s400/Mary+Magdalene+Egg.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Do you know where the very first Easter
egg came from? I’ll give you a clue. It was not from the Easter Bunny. He
hopped along later. No, the original Easter egg, practically 2000 years ago,
was brought by none other than Mary Magdalene. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">According to an ancient story, Mary Magdalene
had an audience before the Roman Emperor, Tiberius Caesar, a few years after the
resurrection, to him to tell him about Jesus, and the unfair treatment he’d
received from the imperial governor, Pontius Pilate, who had Jesus crucified. But,
Mary said, Jesus had risen from the dead and had appeared to her and his
disciples.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, anyone who appeared before the
Emperor was supposed to bring him a gift. Mary’s was a plain, ordinary egg—a
symbol of the resurrection, like the tomb which will be broken open with new
life. When she came before the throne, she held out the egg in her hand and
greeted the him saying: “Christ is Risen!” (Just as we said this morning). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqsA1sT0rtNBhzyfZcjlwR-Hdv1XWNelB8PHZlEJGiEPXmhKO9KlQ2gKiM0UbvWrheiaYhWnpJLZfmai-C_obLcdIrpUD8tgVEBZZQ1koLUYIAbs26wl0d36lMpxXKQhW1mMwaRw1WKY/s1600/Red+Easter+eggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="340" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqsA1sT0rtNBhzyfZcjlwR-Hdv1XWNelB8PHZlEJGiEPXmhKO9KlQ2gKiM0UbvWrheiaYhWnpJLZfmai-C_obLcdIrpUD8tgVEBZZQ1koLUYIAbs26wl0d36lMpxXKQhW1mMwaRw1WKY/s200/Red+Easter+eggs.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Only the Emperor said to Mary, “How can
anyone rise from the dead? That’s as impossible as that egg turning red.” And suddenly,
the story goes, the white egg in Mary’s hand turned a deep red. It was the
first colored Easter egg. As a result, we often see pictures of Mary Magdalene,
especially in Eastern Orthodox icons, holding a red egg. (Now, when you see an
Easter egg, whether real or chocolate, you’ll know that they are not only fun
to eat, but also a sign of the resurrection, going all the way back to Mary
Magdalene). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mary Magdalene is often called the apostle
to the apostles, since it is she who first proclaims the extraordinary story of
Jesus’ resurrection. In fact, as we read in the gospels, Mary is the first
person Jesus appears to on Easter morning. There was something extraordinary
about Mary’s faith and her willingness to set aside her fears and her doubts,
to share the good news of God’s love and power—to Jesus’ friends, to the Emperor,
and now to us here today. “I have seen the Lord,” she tells us. “Christ is
risen.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But, she didn’t believe right away. At
first, Mary was perplexed, sad, even and depressed. She doubted. Not only had
her friend been killed, but his body was missing. Her life was falling apart. Deep
in her soul, she probably felt as if she had been crucified with Jesus. We can probably
relate. Sometimes we feel confused and depressed, sometimes we doubt, and it
can seem as if our world is falling apart. Deaths of people we love. Unwelcome or
uncertain health diagnoses. Work struggles. Family struggles. Challenges that lead
us—like Mary—to question and to doubt. Not only about God, but about ourselves.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In fact, as we read in the gospel account,
Mary was so sad, so depressed that she didn’t recognize Jesus when he appeared
to her. There are abundant theories about that—one being that maybe, probably,
Jesus looked different after the resurrection. Another theory is that she
didn’t expect to see Jesus—who would? I don’t really expect to see my father who
died years ago. You don’t expect to see people you love who are no longer here.
We wish we could. We dream of them. But we know they are not going to appear
before us. That’s not how things work. Not in real life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But even more, I think Mary didn’t see or
recognize Jesus because of her grief. Her eyes were filled with tears. Her
heart was broken. And when we feel that way, it takes a lot for good news to
break in. The shell of the egg can be hard indeed. The stone is heavy and hard
to roll away. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8Md1i2HvaU4kcKM0lWo-Aev10KLBsFB9p6utOw7JFRK7S_cJfA4PdXFQHKefyo9LEHvLu-q42wsmVBuXD4fjDyn9TXZUuUhwOMloeYYF9NWvboNFN_pf6CMG2Hp36u78HejDC3qSePo/s1600/Mary+Magdalene+Jesus+Garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="485" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8Md1i2HvaU4kcKM0lWo-Aev10KLBsFB9p6utOw7JFRK7S_cJfA4PdXFQHKefyo9LEHvLu-q42wsmVBuXD4fjDyn9TXZUuUhwOMloeYYF9NWvboNFN_pf6CMG2Hp36u78HejDC3qSePo/s320/Mary+Magdalene+Jesus+Garden.jpg" width="242" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As we read the story, it was only when
Jesus called to Mary, when he addressed her by name, that she realized he was there
with her. Only when he touched her soul—in the same way he had before the
horrible events of the last days—that she believed he was alive. Only after she
looked up, and dried her eyes, did she feel the power of God’s love—love for
her. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Here’s the thing: The resurrection <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i> an event that happened long ago, in a
garden in Jerusalem. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">And</i> it happens
every day, every moment, every time <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we</i>,
like Mary, hear God’s voice calling <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">us</i>
by name and inviting us to live. Telling us that we, too, are loved. That we,
too, are alive in him and with him. That’s what Jesus did for Mary in the
garden. And it’s what he does for us. The resurrection is God’s way of
transforming us, from the inside out. Because Jesus didn’t rise <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for himself</i>, but rather so that we, too,
might be raised. So that, like Mary Magdalene, we might have the power and the
courage and the conviction of saying that we have seen the Lord. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Let’s go back to the story of Mary
Magdalene and that first Easter Egg. Now we don’t know if it’s really true. It’s
a fantastic story. Maybe hard to believe. But then, so, too, is the
resurrection. So, let’s imagine it is true. When Mary went to the emperor to
say that Christ is risen, she wasn’t only reporting an amazing miracle that had
happened to Jesus. It was a miracle that happened to her, as well, and to Jesus’
disciples, and to all people. Mary was telling the emperor that God lives. In
Christ. In her. And in us. And no emperor, no king, no illness, no crucifixion,
not even death itself can defeat the power of life in God. The emperor didn’t
believe Mary. But we can. And we don’t need the sign of an egg turning red to
know that her testimony is true. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">God is alive in Christ and God calls to
each of us by name, like Mary in the garden. God offers us hope when we are afraid,
peace when we are anxious, and the gift of faith, even when we doubt. Most
especially, God offers us life. New life. Abundant life. Resurrection life. Life
with Christ. Life in Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“Mary Magdalene went and announced to the
disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’.” May we also see, and then proclaim, with
her and all the faithful, “Christ is Risen!” Alleluia. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© The Rev. Matthew
P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-30406043408577505612018-11-05T10:25:00.002-08:002018-11-05T10:31:23.953-08:00Remarks at the Solidary Shabbat, Temple Emmanuel of Wakefield, November 2, 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAP8lSXuRvb4pDTbKIF1qjWgna0kr5bqBWeem_MSsbzpkjKOzYzhj7KxpyacqCQa-wIYxHoUHlDlZZjf8KPlmigMUQEYI-bwCqY0yaNynFzV2XnZQAmjelv9S4RCrWmFBUR3uJkwFJ2vU/s1600/Solidarity+Shabbat+Nov+2+2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1100" data-original-width="1440" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAP8lSXuRvb4pDTbKIF1qjWgna0kr5bqBWeem_MSsbzpkjKOzYzhj7KxpyacqCQa-wIYxHoUHlDlZZjf8KPlmigMUQEYI-bwCqY0yaNynFzV2XnZQAmjelv9S4RCrWmFBUR3uJkwFJ2vU/s400/Solidarity+Shabbat+Nov+2+2018.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Solidarity Shabbat<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Temple
Emmanuel of Wakefield<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">November
2, 2018<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dear
friends in faith and community,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It
is an honor and a privilege to be with you here on this special, sacred, holy
evening, as we remember, pray, and support one another in our grief and shock,
and also in our love and resolve.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That
so many of us are here from our diverse backgrounds, religious perspectives,
and political affiliations proves, I believe, that what unites us—our common
faith in the God who created and loves each one of us, our respect and even
love for the wondrous diversity in our midst, and our hope for a future less
divided—are bright lights shining in a world and nation that some days seem
very dark indeed. The world, the nation, and Wakefield itself need this light,
the light that God shines on the world through us, together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A
week ago many of us here tonight gathered at the other Emmanuel in town—my own
church—to support each other following the devastating loss of the First
Baptist Church building. As horrific as the fire was—and it was horrific,
standing there with Pastors Norman Bendroth and Glenn Mortimer watching
helplessly as the fire consumed the building, and as much as its loss leaves a massive
crater in the center of Wakefield—we can be relieved that no one was seriously injured,
thanks to our police and firefighters. The fire was contained to just the
church building.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our brothers
and sisters at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh can’t say the same. Their
loss took beloved family and friends—who were fun and funny, passionate and
faithful, lovers of God and lovers of God’s people. These beautiful, unique,
wonderful people can never be replaced, and neither should they be forgotten.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As
it happens, in Christian churches today, November 2, is traditionally observed
as the Feast of All Souls, when we remember and pray for those who have died
and now live in the fullness of God’s embrace. The eleven faithful Jewish martyrs
killed on Saturday are surely among them—living at the center of God’s heart. And
there, from God’s heart, they are urging us to be people of faith and love for
each other. I know that because that’s how they lived.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
brothers, Cecil and David Rosenthal, were fixtures at the Tree of Life
Synagogue. They usually sat at the back and welcomed visitors. They were like
ambassadors, friends said. Dr. Jerry Rabinowitz was a well-respected neighborhood
family physician who, in the 1980s, was unafraid to treat gay men who had
contracted HIV. When others rejected them, including their own families, Dr.
Rabinowitz cared for them and showed love and compassion. One former patient
said that Dr. Rabinowitz was known to hold patients hands—without gloves—and embrace
them when they left his office, providing human touch to people who were often isolated
and alone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Melvin
Wax loved his grandson, his religion, and the Pittsburgh Pirates. He was always
full of jokes. He was 87 and regularly the first to arrive for Friday evening
and Saturday morning Sabbath services. Friends kidded him that he should have
been a rabbi. Rose Malinger was 97, the oldest of those killed, and she loved
her family above all else. She was the epitome of the caring grandmother, even
at 97 preparing family feasts for the High Holy Days. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That’s
just five stories out of eleven. Together, from the other side of eternity,
they teach us how to live.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
my sermon on Sunday, preached following the fire at First Baptist Church and
the day after the Tree of Life shooting, I said that God doesn’t give us
buildings—however majestic they may be. They are the work of our hands and our
imaginations. But God does give us each other, friends, family, neighbors, of
different races and colors, traditions and backgrounds—Jewish, Christian,
Muslim, Buddhist, gay and straight, Democrats and Republicans. God gives us
each other to love, to heal, to care for. God gives us each other to hold, to
dry each other’s tears, and to make us whole again. We can be that for each
other. We need to be that for each other. Right here in this town. This is our
time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">May
God bless you and us all as we love one another.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Shabbat Shalom. May
their memory be a blessing. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Chair, Wakefield Interfaith Clergy Association</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rector, Emmanuel Episcopal Church of Wakefield</span></span>Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-67759498301884319182018-10-28T10:55:00.002-07:002018-10-28T10:55:59.693-07:00Finding Faith, Finding God: A Sermon Following a Fire and a Mass Shooting <br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If
you were here several week ago, you may remember that I preached on the Book of
Job, and how God tests Job’s faithfulness. In the book, Job suffers all sorts
of afflictions as God waits to see if Job maintains his faith or if instead he
curses God. Most of those around Job—his wife and friends—assume that he must
have committed some dreadful sin to deserve all that comes his way—deaths of
his children, sores all over his body, loss of his wealth and possessions.
Through it all, though, Job refuses to curse God, while also refusing to
confess to sins he did not commit. By the end of book, which we heard in this
morning’s first reading, we discover that God is so impressed with Job that
everything he lost is restored and then some—even new and improved children to
replace those killed. Ultimately, Job lives happily ever after, for another 140
years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">People
of faith study the Book of Job to try to make sense of why tragedy happens,
especially loss, illness, and death. Is it punishment for something we may have
done, or perhaps part of God’s mysterious plan? Or is it maybe just the random
way of the world? To me, Job doesn’t give very satisfactory answers. Because I
don’t believe that God sends afflictions and illnesses and the deaths of loved
ones our way to test our faithfulness. I guess that’s one way of looking on the
world. But it isn’t mine. It just does not sound much like the actions and
practices of a God of love. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I
think you would agree that the past week has been surreal. When we gathered for
worship a week ago, we never would have thought or imagined that the landscape
of our town and community would be changed so dramatically in just a matter of
hours, by a strike of lightning. That lightning is something that some, like
the characters in the Book of Job, might see as an act of God, as part of God’s
plan, or perhaps a way to test our faithfulness. But I just can’t believe that.
Tuesday afternoon I walked past the Baptist Church twice—to and from a meeting
with an alumni officer from my college in Minnesota. As I walked past the large
and imposing church I never would have thought that I would be back there
again, less than two hours later, seeing it engulfed in flames.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There
have been dramatic and cataclysmic church fires in Wakefield before—previous
incarnations of the Baptist church burned, twice, in ancient history. And then,
most recently at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in 1977. But I had never seen
one. As I drove from our parish dinner in Lynnfield toward Wakefield center I
saw that the sky was glowing red. And once I reached the town Common, I saw embers
jumping in the sky and descending on us. Eventually, the crowd was moved
further away in fear that the spire might topple to the ground. Pastor Glenn Mortimer
of the Methodist Church and I stood there together, watching in helpless
disbelief. Eventually I was able to found the cell number of the Baptist church’s
minister and he joined us there, a trio of clergy watching as the roof caved
in, as the windows glowed from inside and then shattered, as the flames
engulfed this building that for 150 years had been the site of baptisms, weddings,
and funerals; of prayers prayed and hymns sung; of meals shared, and education
offered to the town’s youngest children. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To
me, it looked and felt like the apocalypse. And, of course, I couldn’t help but
think that the same fate could have just as easily befallen Emmanuel instead—if
the lighting had struck in a different direction. Through it all, for me, the
hope that night was the community gathered. The community that gathered to
support each other; the community that prayed together. The community of people
who held each other in our fear, sadness, and in our disbelief. God doesn’t
give us majestic buildings, we create those ourselves. But God does give us
each other. God gives us friends, and neighbors, and even sometimes strangers,
who hold us, who dry our tears, and help us to see a new day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The
interfaith service we held here at Emmanuel Church on Thursday night was just
the start of that important work. It certainly didn’t make it all better for
our friends and neighbors who lost so much, in just a matter of hours. But
hopefully it helped them, and us all, to feel, to believe, and to know that we
do not walk through this life alone. Even in the midst of horrific loss, God
sends us friends and neighbors to dry our tears and help us to see the light of
new day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The chief
miracle of Tuesday night, I believe, was accomplished by brave firefighters and
police, who ensured that the fire was contained to just the church and no one
was seriously hurt. In fact, so contained was the fire that even the ornamental
trees surrounding the church are still standing, which I marveled at when I
walked past the rubble on Friday afternoon. On that same walk, I passed our
Canterbury playground, full of kids playing exuberantly in the afternoon
sunshine, glowing with the beautiful autumn leaves. That walk and the sound of
the kids playing helped me to put everything in perspective. Even in the midst
of sadness, we find life and love and joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thus,
in every real way our local tragedy, dramatic and lasting as it is—leaving a
physical hole in the center of town—pales in comparison to the loss experienced
yesterday at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, where 11 people were
murdered. As we heard in the news, the gunman stormed in during the morning
Sabbath observance, at which they were holding a dedication ceremony for a new
baby—much like our own baptisms—and shouted that he wanted to “kill all Jews.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Afterward,
the head of the FBI’s Pittsburgh Field Office said, “This is the most horrific
crime scene I’ve seen in 22 years … Members of the Tree of Life synagogue
conducting a peaceful service in their place of worship were brutally murdered
by a gunman targeting them simply because of their faith.” The Anti-Defamation
League said that it was “likely the deadliest attack on the Jewish community in
the history of the United States.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The
gunman carried an assault-style rifle and three handguns. All legal so far as
we know. On some social media site, he said that Jews are children of Satan,
and seemed particularly concerned that the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society was
holding Sabbath services and helping to settle refugees in the United States,
many in the Pittsburgh area. Just prior to the attack he wrote online: “HIAS
likes to bring invaders in that kill our people. I can’t sit by and watch my
people get slaughtered. Screw your optics, I’m going in.” Minutes later, 11
faithful people—gathered to pray, sing, hear God’s word, and give thanks for a
new life—were dead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We
could see this as the action of one extremist maniac. And it was. But I can’t help
but reflect on the fact that in my 10 years at Emmanuel Church we have
witnessed the largest mass shooting in US history, not once, but twice—in 2016
at the gay nightclub in Orlando, when 50 people were killed; and then a year
later, in 2017 when 59 people were killed at the Country Music Concert in Las
Vegas. Also in 2017, 27 people were killed in the shooting at the Sutherland
Springs Baptist Church in Texas. In 2015, 9 people were killed at a Bible study
at the Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, SC, by a white man who hated
African Americans. We have seen the two of the largest school shootings in the
past decade, too: at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut, when 28
people were killed, and then again earlier this year at the Marjorie Stoneman
Douglas High School in Florida, when 17 people—students and teachers alike—were
gunned down. Of the 22 largest mass shootings in US history, 14 occurred in the
last 10 years, and 5 in the last 2 years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
lest we think that it couldn’t happen here, I’d note that on the news last
night it was reported that there was yet more swastika graffiti found at the
high school in Reading last week. In fact, in 2017 anti-Semitic incidents
surged by 60% across the United States. New York had the most, followed by
California, New Jersey, and then Massachusetts is fourth with 177 cases. The
fifth highest was Florida with 98. Thus we know that hate lives and grows here,
too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">These
are all individual circumstances—one gunman hated Jews, another African
Americans, another the LGBTQ community. Some had unknown motives. But together
what they tell us is that something is wrong in our society. Something is wrong
in our national life. Something is wrong in our very soul. We are broken
people. Broken. Lost. Hurting. And we have to figure out how to make ourselves
whole again. Rebuilding won’t be like in the Book of Job, when Job just
magically got everything back and lived happily ever after. Instead, it will
take work. Hard, human work. What’s more, it will take transformation. A
transformation of human hearts. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yesterday,
addressing the carnage at the synagogue, the President reflected that the world
is a violent place and that it would be better if places like the Tree of Life
Synagogue had armed guards, who could take out would-be gunmen. He has said
that about our schools, too. Maybe he’d even say it about us here at Emmanuel. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I
remember when I lived in Toronto that many synagogues did have a police detail
outside on Saturday mornings for their sabbath services. So, I suppose that’s
an option. But what does that say about us as a people, if our churches,
synagogues, and mosques, need to be guarded in that way? What does that say
about who we are and what we value, if we have to live in a state of perpetual fear
and lockdown? How will we share the good news of God’s promise of abundant life
for all if those who come through our doors have to pass through metal
detectors and armed guards?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Following
the shooting yesterday, the Episcopal bishop of Pittsburgh wrote, “Human beings
have moral agency. Someone chose to hate, and chose to kill. And now we are
faced with a choice as well—to do nothing, or to reject this hatred in the
strongest possible words and actions, and to refute in every way, in every
forum, the philosophical foundations of anti-Semitism wherever they have gained
a foothold in our churches and our society.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our
own Massachusetts bishops added, “As people of faith, we also decry suggestions
that the solution to such violence is further violence. For national leaders to
suggest that the solution is for our houses of worship (and by extension our
schools, our movie theaters, our shopping centers and our outdoor concert
venues) to be armed fortresses is to abdicate responsibility for addressing the
root causes of this scourge. We continue to insist that our grief and anger
must issue not only in compassion and prayer, not only in increased vigilance
and security, but also in continued advocacy for measures which will resist the
religious and ethnic bigotry and easy access to lethal weapons which are among
those root causes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I agree.
Our faith can’t be in guns. Our faith has to be in God. And in each other. And
you know what, I think we saw the answer on Tuesday night, even as the majestic
First Baptist Church building became an inferno. And we saw it again on
Thursday night, as we came together, right here in this church, in love and
compassion, across our diverse faith traditions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Among
the most powerful moments for me on Thursday evening was Rabbi Greg Hersh
reading from Isaiah: “Comfort, O Comfort my people, says your God. Speak
tenderly to Jerusalem.” After the reading, he taught us a song in Hebrew, a
song meant to heal broken hearts and lift downcast spirits. And so we sang
together, in Hebrew. Think, for a second, about the profundity of that moment.
Here was a Jewish Rabbi, offering words of healing to a largely Christian
congregation, and to the Baptist congregation in particular, here in an
Episcopal Church, urging us all to find hope and inspiration in our shared
scripture and in our shared humanity. This is what we need. Not more guns. But
more love. More understanding. More willingness to reach out beyond our people,
to God’s people. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We
were reminded on Tuesday evening that God does not give us buildings—even the
grandest among them are impermanent. But God does give us each other. Family,
friends, and neighbors—of different colors, traditions, and backgrounds—to love,
to heal and care for. God gives us each other to hold. To dry our tears. And to
make us whole again. So that all may experience full and abundant life. As
Christians, as humans, this is our calling. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This
is our time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-59655221450004325992018-09-12T07:21:00.001-07:002018-09-12T07:21:34.363-07:00"Eating the Children's Crumbs": A Sermon on the Syrophoenician Woman, the Notorious Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and God's Heavenly Banquet<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0vEXISlS_D3858yWi2A20C8Z8gfDKhwVYhyphenhyphenBgVWcomKZYuzewChJa4CeZVbKgcEUppdCD-VpPT1LxXM-koOuD7UR6GoShjEFbFhWrjyBVeuIGn-wF1osZrM4pfjjdx-qH7x8UCGiWLE/s1600/jesus-and-the-gentile-woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="500" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR0vEXISlS_D3858yWi2A20C8Z8gfDKhwVYhyphenhyphenBgVWcomKZYuzewChJa4CeZVbKgcEUppdCD-VpPT1LxXM-koOuD7UR6GoShjEFbFhWrjyBVeuIGn-wF1osZrM4pfjjdx-qH7x8UCGiWLE/s400/jesus-and-the-gentile-woman.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It
is interesting to me—maybe coincidental, maybe providential—that today, on this
day of anniversary celebration this gospel passage, the story of the
Syrophoenician woman and her encounter with Jesus, should present itself in the
lectionary. I did not pick it, but perhaps it picked us. Despite how unsettling
it can sound, it is probably my favorite story in the New Testament. It appears
in slightly different forms in Mark, as we’ve just heard, and also in Matthew. So
it comes up in the lectionary 2 out of every 3 years. I first preached on it on
my third Sunday at Emmanuel, back in August of 2008, and probably 6 or 7 times
since. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What
more is there to say after 10 years? As it happens, I’ve had something of an
exciting new insight after studying several commentaries this week. But before
we get there, let’s lay the groundwork again—the context, the characters, what
do they say and do, and why?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The first
place we encounter this story of Jesus and his encounter with the
Syrophoenician woman is here in the gospel of Mark—written about 66 to 70 AD,
at the height of a Jewish/Gentile conflict that led to the destruction of the
Temple in Jerusalem, and really a total leveling of Jerusalem as anyone knew
it. Tensions were especially high, and there was a real belief among faithful
people—Jewish and Christian alike—that the end of the world was coming. This
end was both fearsome, but also hopeful, as it would usher in a new age under
God’s Messiah. The Christians thought that Messiah was Jesus. The Jewish
believers were not so sure. But they agreed that in the fulness of time the
Roman Empire would not have the upper hand, despite its military and political
strength in the present.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Second,
we need to remember that Mark, the author of the gospel, was himself Gentile. We
know because he doesn’t always have a strong grasp of Jewish religion, culture
or customs, even as he believed with every fiber of his being that Jesus was
the Son of God. For a long time, it was believed that Mark was written in Rome,
and that he was a disciple of Peter or Paul. That’s still possible, but in
studying how the gospel is written, his concerns, geography as he understands
it, increasingly biblical scholars have come to believe that Mark may have been
from Syria, writing for Gentile Christians there. This will be important later,
so remember that. The church in Syria grew when Jews and others fled Jerusalem
with the Roman siege and went there as refugees—a tragic irony given that so
many are fleeing from Syria as refugees in today.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When
we meet Jesus in this morning’s story, he seems to be looking for an escape.
The most recent action event in the gospel, prior to this passage, is the
miracle of the loaves and fish, when Jesus fed 5,000 people. That story is key,
too. It happened in a Jewish area, and people are clamoring to see him. He has
become a celebrity. He’s no longer just performing a miracle here and there,
the occasional healing for someone who needs it, but instead, he’s started
reaching people on a massive scale. Jesus has become a religious and cultural rock
star. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
as with all rock stars, the crowds and groupies get to be too much. So, he tries
to escape—to the region of Tyre, which today is Lebanon. This is an important detail,
because it’s a Gentile region. In other words, he trying to go where no one
would recognize him. Incognito. Hiding out in a safe house. Unfortunately, his
fame has preceded him. Such was the force of his impact that even in a foreign
land, filled with people of a different religious and cultural backgrounds, he
can’t escape notice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Enter,
then, the Syrophoenician woman. We read that she is a Gentile. In other words,
she’s not Jewish. She doesn’t share Jesus’ religious or cultural background.
But she knows that he can heal. And, well, she’s desperate. Not for herself,
but for her daughter—who is possessed by a demon or an unclean spirit. We don’t
know what the medical diagnosis for such a thing might be today, but for her
and her daughter it was something awful. Probably beyond awful. And when you
are desperate for help, you don’t really care who the doctor is—race or
religion or background or whatever—if he or she can heal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus,
unfortunately, is none too interested. Maybe because he was tired and grumpy,
on vacation. Or maybe because he really believed that his mission, and God’s
mission, was first and foremost to the people of Israel. Whatever it was, his
response to the woman’s desperate plea to heal her daughter is, “Let the
children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw
it to the dogs.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There
is no getting around the reality that his response was not only a rejection,
but also an insult. Jesus called the woman and her daughter dogs—not worthy of
the children’s food, not worthy of healing, not worthy of much. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus’
response here reflects, in a sharp and vivid way, the tensions that existed
between Jews and Gentiles in the first century, and particularly as Gentiles in
the Roman Empire destroyed everything that faithful Jews held sacred. I have
long believed that this passage makes Jesus look so bad that it must have
really happened. Who on earth would make it up? But, maybe, it reflects even
more the tensions of the 30 to 40 years after Jesus lived, tensions that
resulted in the destruction of Jerusalem, and maybe less Jesus’ own words. Ultimately,
we can’t know for sure. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But
whatever the case, the real drama happens next, when the Syrophoenician woman,
desperate to grasp whatever healing she can for her daughter, argues back. Now,
notice that she doesn’t get in a shouting match—she is respectful, but also
smart. “Sir” she says, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s
crumbs.” She doesn’t question Jesus’ sense of his mission, she doesn’t say anything
negative about his people, she just asks for some healing as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As
we know, we are in the midst of a Supreme Court nomination battle. Perhaps
capitalizing on that, CNN recently aired its documentary titled “RBG” about
Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I thought it was fantastic—powerful and deeply
moving. And to me, here, the Syrophoenician woman reminds me a lot of the “Notorious
RBG,” as she’s often called—not so much as a justice, but earlier, when she was
a lawyer in the 1970s, arguing cases before the Supreme Court, slowly and
steadily chipping away at sexist laws—with her carefully chosen words, cutting
like a laser through centuries of sexism and bias. She won 5 out of her 6 cases.
Her last case as a lawyer before the Court was in 1978. At the end of her oral
argument, Justice William Rehnquist asked her, “You won't settle for putting
Susan B. Anthony on the new dollar, then?” Ginsburg later said she considered
responding, “We won't settle for tokens”, but instead opted not to answer. Her late
friend and much more conservative Supreme Court colleague, Antonin Scalia, said
of her: “she became the leading (and very successful) litigator on behalf of
women's rights—the Thurgood Marshall of that cause, so to speak.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
the Syrophoenician woman, is much the same. She’s not asking Jesus to overturn
centuries of religious and cultural difference in one fell swoop. And she’s not
allowing herself to be offended by the comment about dogs, but instead stays
focused. Like a litigator, she’s arguing carefully, precisely, for what she
needs. In her case, she <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was </i>willing
to accept tokens or crumbs, so long as they healed her daughter. And they do. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Jesus
is so impressed, that he heals the girl from a distance. He doesn’t need to
touch or even see her to include her in God’s act of healing, restoration, and
salvation. It is the most remarkable story. And it is the only time, that I
know of, that Jesus is bested in an argument. Not by a Pharisee. Not by someone
who shares his cultural or religious background. Not even by a man. But by a
woman. A woman whose daughter has a demon. A woman who is a Gentile. A woman
who is desperate. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So,
what do we make of that? Well, remember how I stressed the emerging consensus
among scholars that Mark was written in Syria? That’s significant because the
Syrophoenician woman was, herself, Syrian. She is from Syrian Phoenicia. Thus,
it seems to me that she may really be the gospel’s embodiment of Mark and his
own community. They know that they are not Jewish. They don’t share the same wonderful
history and culture as Jesus and his disciples, going back to David and Moses
and Abraham. But, Mark believes, with the Syrophoenician woman, that they are
worthy of being included in the new community of faith and discipleship that is
growing now. God, they believe, is breaking in, and making all things new.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You’ll
remember, too, how I said that this story happens just after the feeding of the
5,000 with the five loaves and two fish. First that multitude was fed. Now, the
woman and her daughter have been fed with their crumbs. And soon, in the next
chapter, while Jesus is still in a Gentile area, he will perform another
miracle, and feed 4,000 more people, this time with seven loaves and a few
fish. Seven, notably, is a symbolic number for completeness. And so, the gospel
shifts—exclusion falls away and all people, of multiple diverse backgrounds and
languages are included as recipients of Christ’s miracles, and more importantly
as guests in the heavenly banquet. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The pivotal
figure in helping to bring that change is the woman from Syria, a Gentile, of
Syrophoenician origin, whose daughter had a demon. The healing of her daughter—the
crumbs they receive—are really the foretaste of the wider and even more diverse
and inclusive banquet that is to come. She is a hero of the Gospel. She’s the
notorious Ruth Bader Ginsberg of the Bible, if you will, helping to bring
change, little by little, step by step, chipping away at bias, exclusion, and
discrimination. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So,
there you have it—one of the most interesting, challenging, perplexing, and
also hopeful passages in the Bible. As I said earlier, I used to think that the
Syrophoenician woman’s story was included in the gospels because it had to
be—it was known to be true, even if it was a little embarrassing to Jesus. Now,
I more think that it’s there even more as an encouragement to Mark’s community
and also to us. It’s a reminder that even if you sometimes feel left out, or
alone, or desperate, even if you feel excluded or discriminated against,
whatever it may be, God’s love, God’s embrace, and God’s kingdom includes you,
too. Sometimes you may feel that you only get or only deserve crumbs under the
table. But you should know that eventually, and even soon, you will feast at
God’s banquet table. Whoever you are. Whatever your background—age, race,
gender, orientation. All are part of the rainbow dream of God. That’s the good
news. In fact, that’s the great news. That’s the Gospel of Jesus Christ. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-6938455459023213062018-08-05T09:24:00.001-07:002018-08-05T17:51:07.545-07:00Growing into the Full Stature of Christ: A Sermon on Ten Years of Ministry<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In reflecting
on the power, authority, and call given us in baptism St Paul writes:<i> “The
gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some
evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of
ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until all of us come to the unity
of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to maturity, to the
measure of the full stature of Christ.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There’s
a lot packed into that one rather long sentence. St. Paul really liked long,
run-on sentences. But I love that passage because it recognizes that we each
have our own role to play in the unfolding work and life of God’s kingdom. It
recognizes that we each have our own unique gifts—bestowed on us in baptism—for
bringing God’s kingdom to life. And that our role is to enliven and strengthen
the Body of Christ. So that we all grow, together, into the full stature of
Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Isn’t
that something? Paul actually believes that together, as a community of
baptized people, we have the ability, the power, and the call to grow into full
stature of Christ. In other words, we—as a community of faith, transformed in
baptism—are Christ for the world. That what Paul means when he says that Christ
ascended to fill all things. Everything that Jesus was didn’t stop or disappear
2,000 years ago—but instead was passed on to those who believe in him and
follow him. All the love, all the healing, all the teaching, the building of
community—it was all passed on to us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now,
of course, none of us is Jesus individually. Individually, we could never be
who he was, who he is. I know I can’t be. I mess up way too often. I think
about myself too much. And so far, I haven’t figured out how to turn water into
wine or feed 5000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish. But together, as
a body, as his body, we are Jesus’ on-going life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s
an awesome call, responsibility, and gift—one that I don’t think we appreciate
or understand often or fully enough. But in fact, that’s what Paul and the
whole of the New Testament is trying to convey. They are trying to get us to
believe that we are who God has empowered us to be, in baptism, and nourished
by the sacrament of Holy Communion— the bread of life that is Christ himself. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If
you are on our email list, or perhaps on Facebook, you will have seen my
mention of the fact that August 1 marked my tenth anniversary as Rector of
Emmanuel Episcopal Church. Ten years. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long.
I was just 35 when I started—ordained for 4 years. I had more of a Canadian
accent then. I was definitely thinner. And if the photos we have of that time
are any indication--such as the one in the parish hall--I had a lot less
unauthorized gray hair then. But I don’t totally blame it on you all. Not
totally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But
you know, I wasn’t the only one who looked a little different. So did the
church. Back then, in August of 2008, the exterior of the church and rectory
sported a lot of peeling paint. And the inside, well, the walls were all
white—or mostly white. They had last painted been in 1980 when Olga Packard was
Senior Warden. I think it was done as part of the 100<sup>th</sup> anniversary
celebration. There was a very large hole in the ceiling—with paint and plaster
that regularly fluttered down, like the Holy Spirit, so that the altar guild
had to vacuum each Sunday before services. Of course, we had the old
lights—examples of which you can still see in the Main Street Narthex. And most
notably, there were choir stalls where the altar is now, with a wall of wood in
the front separating the choir and chancel from the congregation. The change in
chancel and altar arrangement was not uncontroversial. As many of you will
recall, it’s something the congregation studied at various points going back to
the 1990s when the Rev. Steve Ayres was rector.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
fact, our beloved late sexton Gus Surette once told me a story about the altar
set up. He said that one week in the 1990s Steve Ayres asked him to help move
the choir stalls out so that the space would be open and an altar could be set
up, in much the way it is now. Gus warned him that it wouldn’t go well, but
Steve persisted. The next Monday, after church that weekend, he told Gus he’d
better put it all back. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">15
years later, we were more ready, after study, consultation, and trial. We were
helped, especially, by the vocal support of beloved parishioners who had
devoted their lives to the ministry and well-being of this parish—Bill Hausrath
and Cindy Cook. Cindy, unfortunately, didn’t have the opportunity to see the
final product. She died several months before the project started. But she
requested that any donations in her memory go toward the chancel renovation
fund. I think Cindy’s support and vision, more than anything, led us to make
this significant and, I think, beautiful adaptation. So when you see it, you
should think of her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And
in a way, that’s really appropriate. Over the last couple weeks, I’ve visited
the parish archives in search of some details on our endowment funds. To do so
I had to read a lot of old vestry minutes. And in them, from the 1970s, I found
the notation for the time that Cindy was first licensed to serve as a
Eucharistic Minister and Lay Reader. It happened around the time that women
were first being ordained in the Episcopal Church—which I spoke about in my sermon
last week. I don’t think Emmanuel was quite ready for women priests, yet. But the Rev.
John Thorp and others saw the wisdom in expanding the liturgical and
sacramental ministries of the parish beyond men. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And
so, they chose Cindy Cook—the first woman authorized to administer the chalice
and lead Morning Prayer in this parish. I don’t know that she thought of
herself as a trail blazer—Wallie could tell us for sure—but she was, in her own
dedicated kind of way. Among the greatest honors of these last years was the
opportunity to share in ministry with Cindy—at the altar, in homes and nursing
homes, and then, finally, in her own hospital room on her last days. Being
there with Wallie and Cindy and their daughter Debbie on Cindy’s last day is a
memory and experience that I will hold and cherish always.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Indeed,
being invited to share in those holiest of moments at the end of life has been
an experience beyond words really—with Lorraine Topple and Dorothy Dale, Midge Roberts and Barbara Smith, Cindy
Cook and Bill Hausrath, Bob Elkins and Joyce Elliott, Bob Bent and Olga Packard. So many saints.
So many giants of this parish. I sincerely wish each of them were still here
with us in the usual, physical way. But I also wouldn’t trade those sacred,
holy moments of being with them as God drew near for anything. And even now,
they are models to us—each in a different and unique way--for how to live and
how to love, how to serve and truly be the Body of Christ as Paul calls us to
be. They show us through the example of their lives how we can grow into the full stature of Christ.
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
keeping with this morning’s epistle, I should offer a reflection or two about
ministry at earlier stages of life, too, in baptism. Parishioners have sometimes
said that I come into my own during baptisms. And it’s kind of true. In part because I just love holding all those babies. I don’t have kids of my own,
so it’s my chance to get some baby time (without all the responsibility of
parenthood, of course). But it’s also the opportunity to celebrate the fullness
of God’s love and blessing—in as exuberant a way as we Episcopalians can manage.
Every now and then I’ll look out on a Sunday morning and think—I baptized Tess
and Nicholas, Nic and Gianna, Henry, Abel and Ivy. And also Wendy and Hugo, and David
and Morgan Peterson. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
didn’t baptize Sean and Steve DiGiambattista—Bishop Shaw did those baptisms in
2013, on his last visit to Emmanuel. That was the most remarkable day—as the
bishop sat on the floor with the kids by the font, as he invited them to bless the
water with him (something I’ve done ever since), and then shared with us his
reflections on his life of faith as he lived with brain cancer. I learned so
much about the power of prayer and faith that day. Faith and prayer didn’t cure
Bishop Shaw’s cancer—he died about 10 months after his visit with us. But they
enabled him to face each new day with courage and with hope. We were so blessed
by him that November day. I was so blessed to share that day with him. He, too, by his words and witness and example helped us to grow into full stature of Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Totally
different, but equally powerful, was the Easter Vigil in 2016, when our new Bishop Alan Gates joined us. It was just his second Easter in our diocese and he chose to
spend it with us—I am still astounded by that, when he could have been at
Trinity Church in Copley Square, Church of the Advent, or Emmanuel Church on
Newbury Street. On Facebook Michael Jewer wrote that that service was one of
the most powerful he had ever experienced anywhere. What I loved about it,
especially, were the several parishioners who chose that occasion to be
confirmed and received—empowering and emboldening them for lives of ministry. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Normally
confirmations are focused on youth (which is always fantastic) and usually held
in the front of a church, but these were in the back, at the font, by
candlelight—connecting the confirmations and receptions to the power and call
of baptism. It was beyond sacred and holy as we all as a community, as the Body
of Christ, prayed for God’s spirit to stir up and burn in the hearts of parishioners who are already leaders in the church--Eric and Audra, Sue and Wendy,
Lisa and Melanie. They demonstrated for us that whatever our stage in life we
can deepen and grow in our relationship with God, we can reach the full stature
of Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There’s
so much more than could and should be said—reflections on fantastic adult
education Bible studies and amazing parties. Reformation 500 with the Mad
Bavarians and the choir hosted Oktoberfest was just beyond fabulous. So many
parishioners came out and supported my mom and Jerry when they were married
here in 2011, giving them a proper wedding celebration despite their semi-elopement. Somehow in there I completed my PhD dissertation—that was five years ago
already. You’ve endured countless Star Wars, Minnesota and Sweden
references in sermons. To say nothing of lutefisk. And even in the last few months you have provided me with a beautiful new
home. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">These
have been extraordinary years. A decade of life and love. More loss than seems
fair sometimes. And so much joy. So much discipleship. So much God—here with us
and in us, guiding us and helping us to be his Body, his life, in the world. And
through it all, God has been helping us to do just as St Paul says: to grow into
the measure of the full stature of Christ. That’s our call and our goal:
yesterday, today, and all the days to come. And so, as we have said for the
last decade: Come and grow with us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-29400585398983115092018-07-29T09:30:00.001-07:002018-07-30T08:02:57.024-07:00On David and Bathsheba, #MeToo, and the Ordination of Women: A Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
had expected this morning to be preaching on the miracle of the feeding of the
five thousand. It is one of the greatest hits of our Christian tradition. But then
I reviewed the lessons and discovered that we would be hearing the story of
David, Bathsheba, and Uriah the Hittite this morning. From one perspective, it
is one of the “juiciest” stories in the Bible. From another, it is one of the
most appalling. Either way, it is the biblical equivalent of a soap opera,
filled with lust, deception, abuse of power. It demands our attention and reflection.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like
many people in power, David is a complex figure. The Bible describes him as
especially handsome. And he must have been, because it almost never says that
about anyone else. We have no idea what Adam looked like, or Abraham. It never
describes the Virgin Mary or even Jesus. We do know that Esau was hairy. And
that Joseph (the one with the Technicolor Dream Coat) was handsome. But David
gets the full treatment: it says that he was ruddy, had beautiful eyes, and
was handsome to behold. It’s interesting that sometimes in the Old Testament
women are described as having beautiful eyes, but David is the only male so
described. And while we don’t really know what is meant by saying he was ruddy,
it likely means that he had a lighter or redder complexion than most of the
people around him. Perhaps with red or auburn hair. So, he stood out—the Robert
Redford or George Clooney or Brad Pitt of his biblical day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On
top of that, he was a successful warrior—killing the giant Goliath while he was
a youth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Often, in art, David is
depicted as being naked in the battle, no less, emphasizing his physical
features). He played the lyre (like a harp), so he was artistic. According to long tradition he is the author of the psalms. And, he was
anointed above all others as God’s chosen to be king over Israel and Judah. In other
words, he is about as beautiful, strong, and alluring a person as the Bible can
imagine—hence the famous Michelangelo sculpture—the epitome of youth, strength,
and beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">David
is also deceptive, power hungry, lustful. When we meet him this morning, it is
spring and he is supposed to be off fighting a war, like all good kings. Don’t
you like that description? “In the spring of the year, the time when kings go
out to battle.” It sounds like the start of a fairy tale. But David’s not in
battle. He stays at home, lounging on his couch, while his men are off fighting
for him. There’s a clue about his character. And bored one afternoon, he rises
from his couch and decides to go for a walk across the roof of his palace, to see what he can see.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And
what he sees is beautiful Bathsheba, the wife of one of his leading soldiers,
off at battle. She’s bathing herself. Whether she wanted to be seen or not, we
do not know. But despite learning that she is married to one of his trusted
men, David decides that he just has to have her for himself. It’s not clear in
the text whether Bathsheba a willing party or not. In any case, it wouldn’t have
been easy or even possible for a woman in her circumstance—with her husband
away in battle—to fight off or deny the king. And soon we learn that Bathsheba’s
pregnant. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So
now what, King David? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well,
David tries to get her husband Uriah home, with the hope that a quick, happy
reunion of husband and wife will cover up the fact, and neither Uriah nor
anyone else would be any the wiser. Only, Uriah refuses to return to his home,
to enjoy the company of his wife, while his men are at battle. The contrast
between Uriah’s sense of honor and duty and David’s couldn’t be any starker. The
next day David gets Uriah drunk in the hope that his moral sense would be
lowered, but with no success. Uriah will not be tempted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Feeling
defeated, and demonstrating his true ruthlessness, David sends Uriah back to
battle with a letter to his General Joab. In the letter, which Uriah carried
himself, David ordered that Uriah be placed at the front of the worst fighting,
and when the enemy armies advanced, Joab’s men were to retreat, leaving Uriah
exposed and left for dead, a sitting duck. All because David saw Bathsheba and
she was beautiful. All because David wanted what wasn’t his. All because David
used his power and influence, over Bathsheba, over Uriah, over Joab and his
armies, to cover up his adultery, lies, and abuse of power.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If were this a contemporary story it would fit in perfectly
with the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">#metoo</i> movement and the real
life stories of sexual harassment and abuse. Sometimes, to make the story less
appalling and, it must be said, to denigrate women Bathsheba has been portrayed
as a vixen who lured David in—the 1950s blockbuster <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">David and Bathsheba</i> starring Gregory Peck and Susan Hayward is one
example. Another, more recent, is a series of books by an Evangelical Christian
author named Liz Curtis Higgs titled <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bad
Girls of the Bible.</i> Bathsheba is not in the original, but she appears in
the sequel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Really Bad Girls of the Bible.</i>
In the author’s defense, she does note that there is debate about Bathsheba’s
willingness or interest in submitting into David’s desires. But then she runs
with the idea that Bathsheba never really said no and that somehow she was
complicit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And it’s
true. We don’t read that she ever said no. But would it have mattered if she
had? The power differential was about as wide as it could be—a woman whose
husband was off at war on the one hand, and the king on the other. It is a
story of sexual harassment and abuse, possibly rape, definitely abuse of power,
and sin in the most explicit way possible—leading to adultery and even murder—all
in the person of David, handsome, ruddy, and with beautiful eyes, whom God had
anointed. It’s quite the fall from grace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So
what does this ancient story say to us today, beyond it being a juicy biblical
soap opera? Well first, I think, it’s a reminder that it’s not only today’s
politicians and celebrities who take advantage of women and then try to cover
up their actions—leading to lost jobs, trials, special council investigations
and even presidential impeachments. It’s been happening for thousands of years.
This doesn’t make it okay, but points to the long struggle for human liberation
and flourishing. We all have work to do, to ensure that abuse and victimization
are eradicated. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Related,
is the reminder that even the greatest of heroes are fallible, sometimes
spectacularly so. And often access to power leads to ever greater
transgressions. I think we can all imagine people we have thought of as heroes,
only to learn later that they have feet of clay. The story of David and
Bathsheba is a reminder that shouldn’t place our trust in them. We should place
our trust in God. In fact, God warned the people that kings were a bad idea. Later
in the biblical text we will learn how David was punished by God for his
callous, self-centered actions. In fact, this event with Bathsheba and Uriah will
mark and follow him all his days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Third,
I think this biblical story reminds us that we need to listen to the real-life
stories and experiences of women and girls, in particular. As the biblical text
is written, Bathsheba has no agency. The story is not told from her
perspective. This doesn’t mean that we can’t or shouldn’t imagine what she was
thinking and feeling. In that way, she’s like women throughout history—too
often subjected to the whims and desires of powerful men, or just ordinary men.
Real people, with real hopes and dreams, real fears, real emotions, bodies,
hearts and minds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For
the sake of our full, shared humanity, we need to hear the voices and know the
experiences of women who have faced harassment, abuse, and discrimination.
Hopefully, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">#metoo</i> movement of
today will have a long-lasting effect on truly transforming hearts and minds.
That so many have felt empowered to come forward and share their experiences of
abuse is a sign, I hope, that a new day is dawning—one that Bathsheba could
probably never have dreamed possible so long ago.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Coincidentally,
today, July 29, marks the 44<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the first ordinations
of women to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church. Like the women speaking up
today about their experiences of harassment, abuse, and discrimination, the first
women ordained to the priesthood had to fight to be heard. They had to break
the rules in order to break open the church. Those ordinations were
controversial because the church had not approved ordaining women. In fact, it
had been voted down twice—although, there was no church law explicitly forbidding
either. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Deciding
they had waited long enough, the women organized and convinced three retired
bishops that time was right. And so, in the Church of the Advocate in
Philadelphia, 11 women were ordained to the priesthood. 2,000 people were in
the congregation. The Senior Warden of the parish was none other than Barbara
Harris, who served as crucifer, carrying the cross in procession. She, of
course, later was ordained herself and eventually elected bishop here in
Massachusetts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
preacher that day was Dr. Charles Willie of Harvard (and husband of Mary Sue
Willie who served as organist and director of music here at Emmanuel for over a
decade). In his sermon Dr. Willie said, “it is a Christian duty to disobey
unjust laws… It was an unjust law of the state that demeaned the personhood of
blacks by requiring them to move to the back of the bus, and it is an unjust
law of the church which demeans women by denying them the opportunity to be
professional priests.” The ordination, he said, must be celebrated “not as an
event of arrogant disobedience but as a moment of tender loving defiance.”
Following the ordinations, the House of Bishops held a crisis meeting and
declared them so irregular as to be invalid. But a year later, four more women
were ordained in Washington, DC. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by
1976, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church changed the canons to
explicitly authorize the ordination of women. Doubtless it would have taken
years longer had it not been for the act of defiance in 1974.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
would note that three of those women ordained in Philadelphia were among my
seminary professors at Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge: Suzanne Hiatt,
Carter Heyward, and Alison Cheek. So their story and ministry is part of my
story and ministry, too. And I draw strength and courage from them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bathsheba
and Mary Magdalene, Mary and Martha of Bethany, the Syrophoenician Woman, the
Hemorrhaging Woman, Mary the Mother of Jesus, the Philadelphia 11 priests, all
call us to listen, to act, to tear down structures and behaviors that diminish
and inhibit human flourishing. Now is the time, so that no more women or girls
are forced to say, with Bathsheba, “me too”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It
seems appropriate on this day, in particular, to conclude with the prayer
dedicated to the first ordinations of women to the priesthood in the Episcopal
Church. You’ll notice that it could easily apply to any who speak up and speak
out, bring God’s good news to life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let
us pray:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">O God, you poured your Spirit from on high
to bless and summon these women, who heard the strength of your call: Equip,
guide, and inspire us with wisdom, boldness, and faith to trust you in all
circumstances, hear you preach new life to your Church, and stretch out our
hands to serve you, as you created us and redeemed us in the name of Jesus
Christ, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God everlasting.
Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<br />Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-65024272350412646432018-02-18T21:02:00.000-08:002018-02-18T21:02:22.589-08:00Reaching for God, Not Guns: A Wilderness Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
our gospel this morning we are invited to accompany Jesus, just after his
baptism, as he is driven or forced or compelled—by the Spirit of God—into the
wilderness, where he is surrounded by wild beasts, faces temptation, meets
Satan, and receives the ministration of angels. Scripture tells us that he was
there, struggling with Satan and doubtless with himself—for 40 days which, when
you think about it, is a very long time to be left alone in the wilds of
nature. 40 is a magic number in the
Bible, recalling the 40 days and 40 nights of the flood during the time of Noah,
the 40 days that Moses was on Mount Sinai alone in God’s presence, and the 40
years that Israel wandered in the wilderness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
imagine that during his time in the wilderness Jesus felt and experienced the
full range and scope of human emotion—fear, anger, despair, confusion,
isolation, abandonment, but also love and comfort and strength. As presented to
us in scripture it was, I think, a time of testing. Was he up to the task to
which God was calling him? Did he have the strength necessary to take on all
that would come his way? All the loss,
all the pain, all the illness, all the death—even his own?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Matthew
and Luke go into greater detail about Jesus’ wilderness trials than Mark does
here. In those other gospels we read about the various temptations Jesus
faced—the lure of power and wealth, food to satisfy his hunger, the adulation
of crowds, protection from harm. Jesus rejected these. He rejected easy
answers. He rejected the promise of false security. He rejected anything that
might have drawn him away from his own life in and with God, even in those moments,
like here, when God must have seemed especially distant, remote, and far away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This
has seemed a lot like a week spent with Jesus in the wilderness. Yet another
school shooting, indiscriminately and mercilessly killing 17 wonderful
people—youth and adults alike—reminds us that as a nation, we are wandering in
a deep and dark wilderness, confronted by hungry, howling wild beasts, and
temptations of every kind. Where is God in this horror? Where are the angels,
who bring comfort and hope? Where is the rainbow in the sky we heard about in
our first reading this morning, offering the promise of new life after the dark
and tempestuous storm?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
shared in my parish email on Friday that I didn’t hear about the shooting until
I got home from a long day at here at church on Ash Wednesday. If I had known
earlier, I likely would have preached a different Ash Wednesday sermon.
Doubtless still focused on God’s love, but reflecting in a different and deeper
way on the profound brokenness of human life, on such painful, horrific display
this week. The whole thing is just beyond comprehension or understanding, or at
least it should be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Of
the various tributes I have seen since Wednesday, I think the best was on the <i>PBS Newshour</i> on Friday evening. To close
the show, Judy Woodruff shared photos and stories of each of the students
gunned down on Wednesday: Jaime loved to dance, she said, and Nicholas was a
swimmer and was looking forward to college. Aliana loved to serve, Judy said,
finding ways to help people in need and volunteering after Hurricane Irma. Alex
played the trombone, winning a state championship last year. His mom died when
he was just 5. His brother, a fellow student, survived the shooting. Peter,
aged 15, was in the Junior ROTC. His cousin said he would be friends with
anyone. He didn’t care about popularity. Alyssa played soccer and was on the
debate team, placing first in a debate tournament. Carmen, aged 16, was an
active member of the youth group at St. Mary Magdalene Episcopal Church. Aaron
Fies, an assistant coach and security monitor, had been a student at the same
school years before. He looked out for students who got in trouble, struggled,
or didn’t have fathers at home, offering them a positive role model. He died
helping others find safety. These are just 7 stories out of 17. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">17 lives
ended for no reason. 17 sons, daughters, dads, students and teachers who will
never come home again, never pick up another pencil, never read another book or
swim another lap, never hug a friend, never again laugh or cry. Another mass
shooting in a country that prides itself on being a nation of laws, a refuge of
safety, a beacon of hope, freedom, and justice. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">How did we get here, into this wilderness?
How do we get out?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Following
the shooting, the Episcopal Diocese of Southeast Florida offered the following
statement: “There are no words that can
adequately give voice to the madness and the violence done to those gunned
down, and to their families and friends so cruelly robbed of those they loved. There
are no words to describe the pain of loss and grief, of shock and horror, of
outrage and anger… Only the anguished cries that well up from the very depths
of our being. There are no words to make sense of what makes no sense, and in
the face of such senseless killing we are numbed and rendered speechless.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The bishop
of the diocese offered a brief further reflection, saying: “We bring our
longings and convictions for a different future. What happened at Marjory
Stoneman Douglas High School is not the world as it ought to be, or as it needs
to be, and we who follow Jesus accept the responsibility for being partners
with God to bridge that gap between what is and what could and ought to be.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“We
who follow Jesus accept the responsibility for being partners with God to
bridge that gap between what is and what could and ought to be.” I believe he’s
right. I believe that it is precisely our call, as Jesus’ followers and
disciples—to be partners with him, and partners with God, in bridging that gap—so
that what could be and ought to be becomes what is. In real life. Not just in dreams.
Not just in hopes. Not just in thoughts and prayers, however sincerely offered.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So for me, the question is what do we do? How do we act? How
does God want us to act, to partner with Christ, with God, to transform the
world? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don’t have all the answers. Though I certainly have convictions
about guns and safety, especially when it comes to semiautomatic, military
style weapons—which have mass killing as their primary purpose. I don’t see how
they have any place in civilized society. In 1963 the prototype for these
weapons was presented to President John F. Kennedy, for military use, and he rejected
them, not seeing the need. They were introduced in 1964—the year after Kennedy
was assassinated, by a man with a rifle—for use in the Vietnam War. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The same kind of weapon was used in the Sandy Hook school
shooting, and in the Pulse Night Club in Florida, and in the concert shooting
in Las Vegas, and the church shooting in Texas last year. When a disturbed
person wants to kill masses of people, whether in a nightclub, a concert, a
school, or a church, it seems that this is the weapon of choice. That the
military feels the need to use such weapons is bad enough. But there’s no
reason for them to be in our homes and on our streets, purchased legally by 19-year-olds.
If you can’t buy a beer but you can buy a weapon capable of killing so many in a
matter of minutes, there is something wrong in our priorities, something wrong in
our values, something wrong in our humanity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And so, at some point, like Jesus, we will have to emerge
from the wilderness in which we find ourselves. We will have to take on the tempting,
seductive powers of death. We will have to partner with God and fight for life.
We will have to fight for our very souls, and for the life of all of God’s
people. We have to reject the temptation of thinking that someone else will do
it, or that it couldn’t happen here, to us, to the people we love and care for.
And instead understand that a part of us all dies when lives are so senselessly
taken. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The present sad state of our life together as a nation does
not have to be our story or our reality. We can reach for God, instead of guns.
We can help each other be well. We can be people of hope and life, instead of
death and despair. We can be. We should be. We need to be, if we want to be
fully human, fully alive, fully free. And so, at some point, we will have to
leave behind and finally reject the temptation of believing that we will find
our strength and security through arms and war, instead of through the far more
powerful gifts of healing and new life offered us in faith, in community, in Christ,
in the life of God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You know, Jesus used his time in the wilderness to overcome
fear, to confront demons, even Satan himself, and to fight back temptations of
many kinds. He used that time to emerge stronger, more faith-filled, more
deeply grounded, centered, and rooted in God. He used that time to become even
more the Son that God wanted and needed him to be. And I wonder if maybe,
hopefully, we can use and utilize our time in the wilderness in which we find
ourselves in much the same way—so that we, too, can emerge strong, faithful,
committed, and full of hope, full of the life, full of the love and Spirit of God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And so, like Jesus, we pray. We pray so that we can act. We
pray so that we have strength. We pray to find hope. And we pray so that, like
Jesus, we are filled with the life and power and Spirit of God. The life and
power and Spirit that, through you, through us, will change the world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">May we find it so. May we make it so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span 12pt=""><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> © The
Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-10124770985989471302017-11-05T17:47:00.002-08:002017-11-05T19:45:39.513-08:00They Lived Not Only in Ages Past: An All Saints Sermon <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>One was a soldier, and one was a priest, one was slain by a
fierce wild beast…..</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Today we celebrate one of the best days in our church
year–the Feast of All Saints. Besides the really big days—Christmas and Easter—
All Saints is one of my two favorites, along with Epiphany. It’s our annual
opportunity to remember all those who have gone before us–the well-known saints
like Mary the Virgin and Mary Magdalene; St. Francis and St George who slayed
the dragon. We also recall those who aren’t saints in the strictest sense, but
nonetheless were people of courage and conviction–people like Martin Luther and
Martin Luther King. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We remember as well those who are less famous–not so much
remembered by the church at large, but who nonetheless had a deep and profound
faith: our own loved ones, those who worked for the building up of the church,
even right here, who helped this parish to grow and flourish. Every culture,
age, and place raises up its own saints—people whose hearts are aflame with the
light of God, and who by their words and actions are able to draw us, as well,
closer to God’s radiant light. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The church, typically, has come to see the saints as people
whose lives are complete and have been received into God’s greater glory. But
in the Bible, all Christians are considered saints–those who have died, and
those living and sharing God’s love with the world. I like this expanded
understanding–saints are not only the few who have successfully completed a
lengthy canonization process, but really are the millions who have loved God
and witnessed to God’s love for the world with their words and with their
lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Given this expanded understanding, I wonder, can you think
of any saints you have known personally? Are there people in your life, now or
in the past, with a special ability to draw others into the heart of God? Who
seem to put the needs of others before themselves? Or who stand up against
oppression so that others can know the peace, hope, and healing that God intends
for us all? Do you know anyone like that?
Do you know any saints?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For me, a few special people come to mind. Some have died, parishioners
we have known and loved right here at Emmanuel, and some are still living. One
such, for whom I give thanks, is the Rev. Jane Gould, the rector of St.
Stephen’s Church in Lynn—but notably only through today, her last Sunday in the
parish. Because very soon she’s moving on to St. Luke’s Church in Long Beach,
California. I think Paul LaSpina remembers Jane from their days at Church of
the Epiphany in Winchester. One infamous Jane in Winchester story has her as a
young and very pregnant priest going into Labor at the altar on Easter Sunday
morning. If I remember the story correctly, she made it through the service and
to hospital before the baby came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yesterday, at our diocesan convention, we honored Jane for
her tireless, visionary ministry in our diocese, and it only seems appropriate
for me to honor her this morning, as well, because her impact on my own life
and ministry has been nothing short of profound. The perfect reflection for an All
Saints celebration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I first met Jane just about 20 years ago, when I was in
seminary and in search of a field education internship site. At the time, Jane was
the Episcopal Chaplain at MIT, and that chaplaincy seemed especially
interesting to me—it is a combined Lutheran-Episcopal ministry and at the time
I was 25, so not far off in age from many of the students. I knew nothing about
math or science, really, which ended up being fine. That time and place in
ministry was absolutely life-changing for me, and Jane was a big part of that,
along with the interesting, geeky, unusual students, whom I came to love. What
I especially appreciated about Jane, besides her always fun-loving nature, was the
respect she showed her students—whether the MIT students for whom she was their
pastor, or me, her intern. Although I was just 25, without much experience, she
treated me like a fellow minister and was enthusiastic about my ideas, which
undoubtedly were half-baked some of the time. I can honestly say that the two
years I was at MIT was the most fun I have ever had in ministry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Most important, as I reflect back on it, was Jane’s
philosophy that interns like me should have some ministry all their own,
without a supervisor looming in the background. Mine was a Bible study. I lured
students there with free pizza and soda, or pop, as I call it. It started out
rather slowly. I think the first week only one or two students came. But over
time, it grew to as many as 20 or more, each week. Can you imagine, 20 MIT
students leaving their labs and math problems for pizza and Bible study on a
Monday night? Jane let us use her office—students sat in chairs, on the sofa,
on the floor. After studying the gospels of Mark or Luke, we moved on to the
epistles, with a series called “Pizza, Paul, and Pop.” They were never too
convinced by Paul, I am afraid. His arguments just weren’t logical enough for
MIT students, but we had fun. Jane wasn’t there for it, unless I was sick or had
to be away on occasion, but as a good mentor, she created the space for me to
flourish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was while I was at MIT that I first applied to be
accepted into the ordination process here in the Diocese of Massachusetts. I was
turned down. The bishops and the Commission on Ministry didn’t really give a
reason—I think mostly it was my age—but it was absolutely devastating. Jane
was, for me, a tower of strength—consoling, encouraging, and prodding me along,
helping me make the right choices for the future. She was close to our late Bishop
Tom Shaw, and I have no doubt that she advocated behind the scenes, so that
eventually I was accepted a few years later. When the time finally came for me
to be ordained at the cathedral, Jane was one of my presenters, standing
alongside me. A few years later, she visited Emmanuel on what was, I think, my
third Sunday here—9 years ago—to show her support. What a gift. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jane’s ministry at MIT was powerful and profound. She
mentored divinity students like me. She coordinated a program called the
Technology and Culture Forum, drawing together people from across the
university and beyond to consider issues of ethics and science. She was a
caring pastor to students in what must be the most difficult and competitive
university in the world. She encouraged the Episcopal and Lutheran community
there to participate in the Common Cathedral homeless ministry on the Boston
Common one Sunday every month—sharing in worship, making sandwiches, being
present and exposed to the realities of life on the streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Not long after I left MIT, Jane did, too—moving on to an
even more challenging ministry in Lynn, where she has been for 17 years. St.
Stephen’s is a unique place—it’s a grand old building, though not as grand as
it once was. It houses the whole kingdom of God. On Sunday mornings they
worship both in English and in Swahili. They are the home to refugees from the
Sudan, and Spanish-speaking youth in their Kids in Community summer camp.
Recently, they’ve begun a Kids in Community after school music program, and they
opened their doors to a program called “Be You”—a youth group for gay, lesbian,
bisexual, and transgender teens. Knowing of the high suicide and homelessness
rates of these teens, the parish wanted to provide a safe space for them. It
took time for the teens to trust that a church would welcome and not judge them,
but now it’s home. Hearing that the Lynn Public Schools had eliminated summer
school for elementary-age children, the parish organized college-age mentors
and committed volunteers to provide tutoring in literacy and math, so that the
most vulnerable students would not lose grade levels during the summer. While
Jane would never take sole credit for these extraordinary ministries, they undoubtedly
are due to her leadership and vision which, just like back at MIT, is always
focused on lifting others up, helping the people of God to claim their own
ministry, their own discipleship, and their own voice. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In our diocese—at conventions and whenever people gathered—Jane
pushed and prodded on issues of justice and inclusion, whether it was about
racial justice, equality for women and LGBT persons, or against gun violence
and poverty. Wherever there was a microphone, you could expect Jane to be
there. And most importantly, you could be sure that wherever Jesus stands, Jane
Gould would be standing alongside him, speaking truth, challenging powers,
lifting up God’s people. I know for a fact that I would not be here with you
today if it were not for Jane. She is my hero. She will always be one of the
most special saints in my life, just as I know you have special saints in
yours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You know, we often say that “so and so” is no saint, or that
we are not saints. When we do that we make a disclaimer about our lives or
suggest that because we are not perfect, God wouldn’t choose us to spread his
love. But this, really, is messed up thinking. None of the saints were
perfect—not Mary, not Paul, not Peter or Francis. They were, and are, all
human. But they also knew that whatever their frailties or shortcomings, God
still needed them. God still wanted them. God still used them–to live holy
lives, to spread the gospel, and to shine with the light of Christ. And through
their examples, they call us to do the same, right here, and right now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yesterday, at our diocesan convention, Bishop Gates ended
his address by sharing the words of Jonathan Daniels, a seminarian from
Episcopal Divinity School—30 years before me, 20 years before Jane Gould. Daniels
was martyred in 1965 in the civil rights era. I shared the some of the same
piece with you this summer, on the anniversary of his death. It makes sense to
reflect on Daniels’ words now, again, on All Saints Day. Describing his
ministry in Alabama, he wrote:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“This is the stuff of which our life is made. There are
moments of great joy and moments of sorrow. Almost imperceptibly, some men grow
in grace. Some men don’t. The thought of the Church is fraught with tension
because the life of the Church is caught in tension. For the individual
Christian and the far-flung congregation alike, that is part of the reality of
the Cross. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“We have activists who risk their lives to confront a people
with the challenge of freedom and a nation with its conscience. We have
neutralists who cautiously seek to calm troubled waters. We have men who are
willing to reflect on the cost and pay it. Perhaps at one time or another we
are all of these. Sometimes we take to the streets, sometimes we yawn through
interminable meetings... Sometimes we
confront a posse, sometimes we hold a child.
Sometimes we stand with men who have learned to hate, sometimes we must
stand a little apart from them. Our life in Selma is filled with ambiguity, and
in that we share with men everywhere. We are beginning to see as we never saw
before that we are truly in the world and yet ultimately not of it. For through
the bramble bush of doubt and fear and supposed success we are groping our way
to the realization that above all else, we are called to be saints. That is the
mission of the Church everywhere. And in this, Selma, Alabama is like all the
world: it needs the life and witness of militant saints.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Daniels was killed a few months after writing this, shot
while saving a fellow civil rights activist. If our faith tells us anything, it
is that we don’t need to be rich to care for the poor and the weak, we don’t
need to be powerful to share the love of God, and we don’t need to be kings to
build the kingdom of God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On this Feast of All Saints, may we be inspired by the
examples of the saints all around us, and then shine just as brightly with the
light and love of God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P.
Cadwell</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-21246987045572958292017-10-10T07:32:00.000-07:002017-10-10T07:48:09.031-07:00You Shall Not Kill: A Sermon on Guns, the Ten Commandments, and Human Flourishing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Back
in the olden days, in the foggy mists of time, when I was growing up and going
to church, it always felt like an all-day activity: first Sunday School for an
hour, and then church for a second hour. My mom taught Sunday school herself,
so we were in our classes while she taught hers. We’d go to coffee hour in
between, and then attend the later service for the second hour. I admit that I
would have preferred to stay home sometimes—watching cartoons in my pj's—but
that was rarely an option.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
was one of those kids that preferred being in the church service itself, over
Sunday School classes. Not that I paid attention to the sermons much, but I
always appreciated the music and liturgical action. I guess that’s why I do
what I do today! One aspect of Sunday School that I really didn’t like was
memorization work. We had to memorize lots—the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s
Creed, and the Ten Commandments. Usually, our teacher would give us a line from
the prayer, creed, or one of the commandments that we were supposed to memorize
over the coming week. If we did and could recite the line the following week,
we’d get a star or something. We don’t emphasize that so much today. But it was
the thing then, 30 or 40 years ago. What I really don’t remember from those
Sunday School days, though, is if our teachers ever gave us any context or
content for what we were learning. You know, did they ever tell us what the
prayers or creeds or commandments mean? If they did, it wasn’t in much detail. Mostly,
I think it was just memorizing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When
it comes to the Ten Commandments, some of the themes are rather adult—like
adultery. We wouldn’t have understood what that was about when kids learning
the lines. Though, interestingly, that’s the Commandment Moses is pointing to
in the stained-glass window above the altar. It makes you wonder just what the
congregation here was dealing with in the 1950s and 60s. Others hit very close
to home at any age—like honoring your Father and Mother—my parents loved to
emphasize that one at particular moments. And the last one about coveting what
it is your neighbor’s used to strike awfully close to home, too. Still does,
sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Further
removed from the real-life experience of most of us—whatever our age—is the one
commanding us not to murder or kill, depending on the translation. It’s
interesting that it’s even included among the top 10 dos and don’ts. The others
deal with more every day temptations and struggles, while thankfully for most of
us killing another human is beyond the pale. But it must have been something
that people struggled with in ancient days. Indeed, any read through the Bible
makes clear that the impulse to kill has infected the human heart from the very
start—beginning with the brothers Cain and Abel, sons and Adam and Eve; down to
Moses—who himself killed an Egyptian; to the tenants in this morning’s gospel
parable, reflecting the crucifixion of Jesus himself. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Something
in the human heart and soul, some seeds of violence and hatred are so deeply
planted and deeply rooted, that God felt the need to inscribe on tablets of
stone, for all to see and know, that this is absolutely not how we are called
to live. Murder, killing, like adultery, covetousness, and faithlessness are as
far from God’s design for human life as anything. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For
those of us instilled with the values of faith—whether Christian or Jewish, and
doubtless from other traditions as well—this should be obvious. But, of course,
it’s not. Increasingly, we seem to live in a society that considers murder and
killing ordinary, routine, and even expected, if not exactly okay. Last
Sunday’s mass murder, we might even call it a massacre, in Las Vegas, is just
the latest example of what has become all too commonplace in the United States
over the past years. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Last
week it was at a country music festival, last year it was at a gay night club,
the year before an African American church in South Carolina during Bible
study, and five years ago an elementary school in Connecticut. What’s next?
Who’s next? We learned over the past week that the shooter in Las Vegas had
also considered a music event in Chicago and even Fenway Park as possible sites
for his killing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whatever
the motivations—whether hatred caused by racism or homophobia, or mental
illness that would lead one to target school children and their teachers, or
even an indiscriminate hatred of people in general and the perverted thrill of
power—it is a manifestation of those seeds of violence, hatred, and division
planted in the human heart, and nurtured and watered by a culture, a society,
that seeks always to divide people into categories of us vs. them, me vs. you,
instead of all of us together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I’m
sure this tendency is found across other nations and societies. Clearly it is,
or we wouldn’t find examples of the same actions in scripture, as in this
morning’s gospel parable of the tenants in the vineyard killing the owner’s
slaves and son. But for some reason, it seems particularly alive and acute here
in the United States. Perhaps it’s because the nation was born in the crucible
of revolution, with guns drawn and a shot heard around the world. Or perhaps it’s because our early financial
system and economy was undergirded by slavery—both in the north and the south—which
relied on violence to rip people from their homes, chained them in ships, and
then sold them to the highest bidder. Human beings treated like property that
you could beat, starve, kill. And perhaps it is because the expansion and
flourishing of the nation could only come with the bloody acquisition of land
and power at the expense of those native peoples who were here first—pushing
them further and further out, starving, killing, and massacring along the way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Whatever
it was or is originally, there is something in our national identity, even
still, that seems to idolize violence and even murder. Just consider the fact
that inscribed in our American constitution is the right to bear arms. Now,
some would argue that the original meaning of that right has been perverted
over the years—since in its original context it was focused on the ability of a
dispersed populace to organize into a militia, in the event of attack from
foreign powers. We don’t need that today, with a proper military and police
force and all the rest. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But
even if you are of the view that the American right to bear arms is absolute
and must be preserved, surely one would have to recognize that the framers of
the constitution couldn’t have imagined semi-automatic machine guns that could
indiscriminately injure hundreds and kill nearly 60 people in a matter of
minutes. After all, the guns they knew were muskets. There is no conceivable
reason that an individual should have ready access to such instruments of death
and terror. That militaries have and use them are bad enough—also in violation
of God’s commandments. But ordinary citizens, people like you and me, with full
arsenals in their homes—serving no purpose but the potential murder of fellow
citizens, fellow human beings—is to me, beyond comprehension. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
imagine it is beyond comprehension to God as well—the God who spoke through the
prophets and came among us in Christ Jesus, to teach us a different way.
Indeed, Jesus was himself killed by the powers of evil and death. By the hatred
which so infects human hearts. And in his death, Christ showed us the power of
love. He showed us the power of life. He showed us that retaliation, armaments,
and weapons are not the instruments of human flourishing. The instruments of human
flourishing are love and hope and trust. What’s more, in raising Jesus from
death, God broke the human cycle of violence and hatred. God showed us, through
Jesus, that there is another way, a better way. A way that leads to fullness of
life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As
some of you know, I was very briefly in Minnesota over the past week. It was perhaps
my shortest trip there ever—just Thursday to Saturday. So, I didn’t have much
time for visiting. I went primarily for the meeting of the National Scandinavia
Advisory Board at Gustavus Adolphus College, of which I am a member. I can’t go
to all the meetings, but I try for one or two a year. At Friday’s meeting, we
were joined by a number of students—some who studied in Sweden last year and
reported to us on their experience, and others who are from Sweden, studying in
Minnesota for the semester or year. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It
was particularly interesting to hear of the experience of the Swedish students.
They were impressed by how friendly and welcoming everyone is. They universally
felt supported in their studies—despite being unprepared for the amount of weekly
homework expected of them. But they also said that some of them were worried
about coming to the United States, or in some cases, their families were
worried about them coming here. Because there is a perception across the world
that the United States is a dangerous place. That people are randomly and
routinely shot here. We think of the US as a place of liberty, freedom, and hope—the
land of the free—and yet, others from other lands worry that they might even be
shot as they step off the airplane upon arrival here. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thankfully,
we know that would be highly unlikely. Even so, many in this country do live in
dangerous circumstances. And random acts of hatred and death are all too
common—not only on a massive scale as in the horrific events of Las Vegas last
week, but also as children are hit and killed by stray bullets on neighborhood
streets. Something has to change. For the sake of our nation and its people,
something desperately has to change. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
my mind, that change has to come through bipartisan work to change gun laws. I
realize there’s no way to get all guns out of the hands of all bad guys. But
that sad fact should not stop us from making it harder to access weapons that
are built for the sole purpose of killing people, in many cases on a
disturbingly massive scale, as we witnessed last week. We have to move out the
realm of political bickering and grandstanding, worrying about lobby groups and
special interests, and instead worry about human life, and human flourishing.
We have to mend the fabric of our national life, moving us away from a culture
of death to a culture of life. After all, that’s what the Ten Commandments are all
about—moving God’s people away from a culture of death to a culture of life. That’s
what Jesus’ life was all about as well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And
the good news is, we can all embrace this work and this calling—whether we are
men or women, young or old, liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat, whatever
our background, race, color, sexuality. In fact, we need all our voices,
speaking and acting in love, for each other and for our world. Those of us who
follow God in Christ have the perfect model, with laws, commandments inscribed
not only on stone, but on our hearts. They can guide us to fullness of life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell,
PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-27047030925584244772017-08-13T12:49:00.000-07:002017-08-13T13:09:45.022-07:00Walking on Water: A Sermon on Fear, Racism, and the Hand of Christ<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
past several weeks, for me, have been filled with adventure—some planned and
some less so. The biggest part of the adventure was my first-ever cruise, a
7-day journey traveling from England to Norway and back. It was wonderful,
gliding into the Norwegian fjords at sunrise, standing out on my balcony
sailing past snow-covered mountains —that was spectacular. I don’t know that I
have ever been anyplace so beautiful in my life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now
as some of you know, my mom invited herself on this trip, with the
argument—persuasive enough, I guess—that she and her husband Jerry had been on
several cruises before while Jeffrey and I hadn’t. So, she told us, she would
be a good guide. And, in the main, she probably was. But, she also had this
tendency, from time to time, to mention the unmentionable, which if you are on
a cruise ship would be what? <i>The Titanic</i>.
Which, as it happens, launched from the same port that we did. Not a happy
coincidence if you ask me! Even at dinner, with other people at the table—since
you often have to share, she brought up the Titanic. When the water starts
getting choppy, things start swaying a bit... it’s probably not the best topic
of conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
understand that once, on a cruise to Alaska with friends, as water was crashing
over the sides of the ship and it was kind of lop-sided, so much so that they
had to drain the pool because it was spilling water everywhere, she actually
said, “I wonder if this is what it was like on the Titanic.” Her friend Morrie,
who was more than a little on edge to start with, just about had a nervous
breakdown. Thankfully, for us, in July, there were no icebergs between England
and the Norwegian fjords. Though, it did get rough as we entered the North Sea
on approach to Scandinavia, with white caps on the waves and darkening skies. One
night I wondered if the swaying was from the ship or my having drunk too many Manhattans.
The feeling was much the same. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It
was, perhaps, a lot like the waves and storms experienced by Jesus’ disciples
out on the sea in today’s evocative gospel reading. Only they were on a small
little boat, easily tossed, while we were more safe on a large ocean-liner. And
what’s interesting to notice in this story is how Jesus actually sent the disciples
out on the boat by themselves. A better translation might even be that Jesus
forced or compelled them to get into the boat. Which kind of makes me wonder if
maybe, for a time, he just a needed a little space to himself—a mutual “time
out.” In the gospel, this follows directly on the feeding of the multitudes
with a few loaves of bread and two fish. After that chaos, maybe Jesus was just
done with people for a while, with the crowds, and with even his own friends.
So, he sends them far away, out on a boat, while he climbs a mountain to pray. Water
and mountains, it’s a lot like the Norwegian fjords, as it happens. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
remember about 11 years ago, teaching confirmation class at another parish, and
the young boys, especially, were inquisitive about this story and whether it
was all really possible—Jesus walking on water, even Peter walking on water for
a time. After all, there’s nothing that excites young boys like the possibility
or hope of having super powers. One boy, in particular, said that if he were
Jesus he’d be using his superpowers all the time and not for boring things,
either, like multiplying bread and fish. I had to explain, unfortunately, that
the point of Jesus’ miracles is not so much to do cool things (though that
might be a side benefit). Rather, they are there to tell us something about
God, about ourselves, and about God’s love and care for us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So, then,
what does this story tell us? Well, first, one rather obvious thing to notice
is that the miracle happens on the water, during a storm. In the Bible, in both
the Old Testament and here in the New, the sea is a place of mystery, of chaos
and danger, even the home of monsters, which God alone has the power to
control. In the biblical mindset only God would have the ability to walk on the
waves, going ahead of God’s people to bring them to safety—whether those people
are the 12 tribes of Israel escaping slavery in Egypt and crossing the Red Sea,
or here today, the 12 disciples rocked by waves.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Second,
it’s interesting that Jesus says to the disciples as he walks to them, “Take
heart; It is I; do not be afraid.” We often read in the Bible, when something
extraordinary happens or is about to happen, that a divine messenger will say
“do not be afraid.” As many as 70 times angels and prophets, Jesus and God
himself say “do not be afraid.” To Abraham and Hagar, Joseph and Moses, David
and Solomon. Also to Joseph and Mary, to the shepherds keeping watch in their
fields, to the disciples on the Transfiguration mountaintop which we heard
about last week, and finally to the bewildered and grieving women at the empty
tomb, the greeting is always the same: “Do not be afraid.” Know that God is
doing something amazing for you and for the world. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then,
perhaps even more significantly Jesus also says, “It is I.” But in the original
Greek it is closer to: “Take heart: I AM;
have no fear,” using the same words God used in the burning bush to reveal the
divine name to Moses so long before, calling himself “I AM.” As on the Transfiguration mountaintop, here
too on the stormy sea Jesus reveals himself to be one with God—one in power,
one in identity, one in meaning and purpose—an extension of God in human life.
It is the revelation and the reminder that God is not locked up in the heavens
above, far away, but alive, among us and even in us. We can reach out our hands
to touch him, and he can pull us up when we stumble or sink.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Which,
of course, leads us to Peter’s attempt to walk on water himself. There seems to
have been something special, if rather impulsive, about our friend Peter. He
had these fantastic moments, glimpses of faith, which impress even Jesus. But, alas,
they invariably fade and he ends up saying or doing really stupid things, and
then sinking into the deep. Of course, Peter’s a lot like us. Like him,
sometimes, our faith is clear and strong. But then, there are those other
times…. And like Peter, when we doubt, often we too say and do stupid things.
We engage in wars, we believe that there’s not enough land, or love, or even
enough God to go around. We try to horde everything we can to ourselves, and
like Peter, weighed down, we, too, start to sink into the seas and deeps of our
own lives. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This
weekend’s appalling, racist, white supremacist march in Virginia is, I am
convinced, a stark and powerful manifestation and revelation of this very
belief, wrong as it is, that there isn’t enough—there isn’t enough wealth,
there isn’t enough prosperity, and there isn’t even enough life to go around. And
so, as a result, many, many lives are little or no consequence—especially the
lives of people who are African American or Mexican American, or Jewish or
Muslim American, gay American, or anything that does not fit into a narrow and
exclusive definition of “White America,” which they seek to “take back.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So,
what do they do? They take out their torches, their Confederate and Nazi flags,
and try to hoard what they can for themselves, chanting “Blood and soil” and “You
will not replace us.” They took one life and injured many more, driving a car
into the crowd and engaging in fist fights. Sadly, the driver of the vehicle
was just 22. Already at that age he was infected with hate. If that isn’t a
manifestation of sinking in the muck and mire of human greed, hatred, sin, I
don’t know what is. It is painfully clear that our nation and its people are
being rocked by waves and storms, much like the disciples out in their boat—all
the while looking, desperately, for a savior. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For
some, unfortunately, that savior is exclusion, repression, violence, racism,
and hatred. That savior carries a torch and wears a swastika, or romantically recalls
the “good old days” of “honor and glory,” when some Americans kept others in
chains. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thankfully,
for others, the savior we seek is love and understanding. And for those of us
here this morning, and in churches across the nation and world, the Savior we
seek is love and understanding embodied in Jesus Christ. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As a
Christian, as a disciple and follower and friend of Jesus, I simply can’t
imagine anything further from his life and teaching than the displays of racism
and hatred that have so infected and infested our nation and world. As our
Bishop Alan Gates, said: “the hatred behind Saturday's gathering in
Charlottesville of white supremacists, neo-Nazis and other purveyors of
bigotry… is equally un-American and un-Christian.” Waves and storms, sometimes
even hurricanes and icebergs, threaten to sink us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But,
when we have faith—when we reach out and grasp Jesus’ hand, when we grasp God’s
hand and when we let go of all that weighs us down, especially jealousies and
fears, racism, hatreds, and the vain hope for power and prestige and privilege,
especially when they come at the expense of others—well, then, we inevitably
find that once again we are able to walk, toward Christ and toward abundant
life. We find that we are full of the mighty power of God—not a superpower,
like Superman, Spiderman, or Wonder Woman—but a real power, a life-giving,
world-transforming power rooted and nourished in love.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Amidst
all of the politicians I heard yesterday, speaking against racism and hatred, I
thought two stood out. One was Utah’s Republican senator Orrin Hatch, who said:
"Their tiki torches may be fueled by citronella but their ideas are fueled
by hate, and have no place in civil society. We should call evil by its name.
My brother didn't give his life fighting Hitler for Nazi ideas to go
unchallenged here at home." The other was former President Obama, who
powerfully shared the words of Nelson Mandela. Mandela knew and experienced the
full power of racism, but he—better than almost anyone--also knew that we are
not powerless to overcome it. He said: “No one is born hating another person
because of the color of his skin or his background or his religion. People must
learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love. For
love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As
it happens, that’s exactly what Jesus, the human embodiment of love and compassion,
the human embodiment of God—the great I AM—teaches us as well. He teaches us
that in God there is neither Jew nor Greek, as Paul reminds us in our epistle
reading this morning. He teaches us that there is no room for hate or exclusion
in God’s kingdom. He teaches us that left to our own devices, desires, and narrow
interests, we will undoubtedly sink beneath the waves of the world. But with
him, through him, in him, we can and will rise. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So,
now, today, in the midst of this chaotic, storm-tossed, and ever challenging
life, I invite you, in fact I urge you, to reach out and grasp the hand that is
seeking to draw you up. Grasp the hand that will keep you afloat, and will
fill you, and us all, with the ability to love, and heal, and transform life—whoever
we are, where ever we are, whatever our race or background. The events of the
past days tell us that our nation and the world need us. They need us to be
filled with the transformational, life-giving power of God, now more than ever. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Do not be afraid. Reach out. Rise. Walk. Live.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-4927623855224694742017-07-02T12:22:00.002-07:002017-07-03T10:31:24.176-07:00Summer Jobs, Independence Day, and Following Christ: A Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
had originally intended to preach this morning on our first reading from
Genesis, with the near sacrifice of Isaac by his father Abraham. Last week I
preached on Isaac’s older half-brother Ishmael, whom Abraham sacrificed in a
way by sending him and his mother Hagar out to try to survive in the
wilderness. It seemed like a good pairing, and I haven’t preached on that
passage since 2011 (<a href="http://vicarwakefield.blogspot.com/2011/06/whos-testing-whom-sermon-on-binding-of.html">you can find the previous sermon here</a>). But something about
today’s gospel reading coming just before the Fourth of July called out to me. Before
we get there, though, I want to reflect for a moment on summer, and in
particular summer jobs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When
I was in high school, my first job was working at the local Dairy Queen, which
seems appropriate to think about on a hot summer day. In Minnesota, Dairy Queens are
ubiquitous. Just about every town has one, and where I grew up it was a Dairy
Queen Brazier restaurant—like Wendy’s or McDonald's—there were tables to sit at
and we served hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken and fish, French fries, even soup,
in addition to the Blizzards, Dilly Bars, and Peanut Buster Parfaits. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
hours were long, sometimes working until 2:00 a.m. And it was messy—mopping the
floors took hours, cleaning up melted soft serve, chocolate sauce, M&Ms and
Oreos ground into the floor. I always thought that working for Dairy Queen was
harder than other fast food places because you had to know how to make
everything—every crazy Blizzard combination, ice cream cakes, buster bars, and
all the food. And on hot days, like today, sometimes there would be lines out
the door, in addition to 10 to 15 cars in the drive through. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once,
I was working the drive-through—not at the register or the window, but behind
the scenes making orders. And I had made an ice cream cone and was rushing to
bring it to the window, only the floor was really wet, so I slipped and went
down belly first, hydroplaning about 20 feet across the floor. I didn’t drop
the cone, but I crushed it and had to get up and start all over again. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
stayed with that job well into college, going back and working those long hours
in the summers. But the summer after my junior year I was just tired of it, and
wanted to do something a little more “meaningful” than making Blizzards and dilly bars. So, I checked the want ads in the newspaper and was hired by
MPIRG—the Minnesota Public Interest Research Group. There are PIRGs all over the country—here it’s
called MassPIRG and you often encounter students with clipboards on
street corners in Boston and Cambridge wanting to talk about various issues for
the public good. In my case, our focus was on environmental justice and renewable
clean energy—like solar and wind energy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Only,
we didn’t stand around on busy streets, accosting passers by. Instead, we were
driven out to various neighborhoods to knock on doors and discuss energy
issues. First in pairs, and then singly. The goal was to secure donations to
support MPIRGs research and lobbing efforts. While the hours were better than
working at Dairy Queen, we weren’t there until 2:00 a.m., the work itself was tough.
Not in the sense of slipping on a mess of melted ice cream and chocolate or
having to mop for hours, but finding the inner strength and courage to knock on
doors, discuss political issues, and ask for donations. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Suffice
it to say, I didn’t do very well. In fact, I think I only lasted in that job
for a week and a half, maybe two at the most. I was never even paid. One day
the thought of going back just made me sick, so I quit. And, I went back to the
Dairy Queen for one more summer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">24
years on, though, I still remember some of my MPIRG door-knocking encounters.
For example, I noticed that people tended to be more generous and more
interested in less affluent neighborhoods. They presumably had less income or
resources to work with, but somehow they seemed to care more. Rich
neighborhoods were much tougher. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In one very wealthy neighborhood, I remember knocking on a door and giving my
spiel and the woman who answered said that she wasn’t interested in supporting
our cause—in fact, as I recall she said that her husband was a vice president
for the local nuclear power company, in sharp contradiction with our renewable
clean energy mandate. Can you say, “Awkward!” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Even
so, she said that she noticed through the window as I knocked on her neighbors’
doors that I was working hard on a hot summer evening, so she offered me a cold
can of pop—that’s soda or tonic to most of you. Dr. Pepper it was, I think. In
my week or two of door-to-door canvassing, she was the only person to offer me
a drink. I’ve never forgotten that kindness and generosity, despite
our significant disagreement on energy policy. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Obviously,
this encounter comes to mind after hearing Jesus say in today’s gospel: “whoever
gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a
disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.” That’s
because, for Jesus, hospitality was everything. He didn’t much care if you
agreed with him on matters of faith and doctrine—in fact he performed miracles
for all kinds of people with all kinds of beliefs—but he did care about how
people were welcomed and treated.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesus
was a regular dinner guest (he never invited people to his own house for dinner
so far as we know), at the homes of people who agreed with him and others who
didn’t. So he had first-hand experience of being treated well and poorly. He
regularly ate with those who were considered “sinners”—for whatever reason—that
didn’t seem to matter to him in the least. What did matter was how God was made
known, across differences in belief and lifestyle, in the breaking of the bread,
in hospitality, in crossing boundaries and barriers, and then in breaking those
borders and barriers down. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As
we approach our Fourth of July Independence Day celebrations this week, boundaries,
borders, and barriers are much on our minds as well. And also, who and if and
how we can or will welcome those who may come to our shores, to say nothing of
treating well neighbors already here. It is a time when our nation’s most deeply
held and cherished values—values that are reflected in Jesus’ teaching this
morning—are increasingly vulnerable, and even under attack in some quarters. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sexist
tweets. A rollback of civil rights protections. Immigration bans. Threats to
cut Medicaid. These are the realities we face this Independence Day. For me,
they are sobering realities. Challenging realities. Realities very far from
what I understand to be the very best of who we are, and who we are called to
be—as Americans, as humans, and most definitely for us here in church, as
Christians and followers of Jesus.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So
what do we do? How do we reclaim our values? How do we bring our nation back to
its moral center? How do we follow Christ in this challenging time?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well,
I think we start by actually following Christ. This is not to say that everyone
in the nation has to become Christian. Far from it. But, for those of us who <i>are</i> disciples of Jesus, it is time for <i>us</i> to take up our crosses and truly follow
him—as he told us to do in last week’s gospel passage—across the boundaries and
the borders of the world and of our lives. It is time to offer that cup of cold
water to any who come to us, thirsting for life, thirsting for freedom, thirsting
for hope. As disciples of Jesus, it is time for us to speak up and speak out
against sexism, and against racism, and against xenophobia. It is time to
challenge narrow world views—not only with arguments, but with love and with
life. It is time to recognize that our own best interests—as individuals, as
families, as communities, and as a nation—will only be realized when our
neighbors’ best interests are realized as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">These
were the rules of Jesus’ life. And as his disciples, <i>as his friends</i>, they are
meant to be the rules of our lives as well. Now, I know that we may think that
sure, we can do this hard work, we can speak out against sexism and racism, but
what difference will it make in Washington or New York or wherever decisions
are made? Well, that’s where our Christian faith comes in as well. Because
through that faith we know that the movement we are part of began with just 12
disciples, and as one commentary I read for today reflected “<i>even our smallest
acts of kindness and generosity reverberate with cosmic significance</i>,” like
that Dr. Pepper offered me so long ago. It broke down a barrier and helped
humanity to flourish. If we can do the same, our lives will be richer, and our
nation—built on the hopes and dreams of people of every color, religion,
language and background—will be all the more whole. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Last
week I was in New York City for a couple days. On that trip I spent a lot of
time in cabs, talking with drivers who came to this country from all over the
world, making a home here and in that city which includes the whole world. For
me, the archetypal image of New York, and really of the United States, is the
Statue of Liberty. At her base is printed the famous poem—“The New Colossus”—by
the Jewish American poet Emma Lazarus. It seems appropriate to hear it again at
this moment as we ready ourselves for our Fourth of July celebrations and
reflect on what it means to be American in this land of freedom, liberty,
promise, and hope:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VOh-nyti9TYpYlYBml8MOcI-eO00z7oOS84sdpWhbmeDqWpBWLkEHFz-pO32wJsXJaHnGYtnBgFBnHay-5O-RouDJh714l5Xg5Ecz1ISVZdviPzQuxupC9cYlgJL3GhirQ9RTVFv5yA/s1600/Statue+of+Liberty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-VOh-nyti9TYpYlYBml8MOcI-eO00z7oOS84sdpWhbmeDqWpBWLkEHFz-pO32wJsXJaHnGYtnBgFBnHay-5O-RouDJh714l5Xg5Ecz1ISVZdviPzQuxupC9cYlgJL3GhirQ9RTVFv5yA/s400/Statue+of+Liberty.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">“Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With conquering limbs astride from land to
land;<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall
stand<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes
command<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The air-bridged harbor that twin cities
frame.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">"Keep, ancient lands, your storied
pomp!" cries she<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With silent lips. "Give me your
tired, your poor,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Your huddled masses yearning to breathe
free,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to
me,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I lift my lamp beside the golden
door!"<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jesus
said: “whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the
name of a disciple-- truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
call is much the same. The time is now. The moment and opportunity are ours. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span></span></b>Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-8051358055958587462017-06-05T19:16:00.002-07:002017-06-05T19:17:17.614-07:00Where is God? A Sermon for Pentecost<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNznnWtBwwKlLCeCYeZJ1smpTePPAJphAc0stSfKL0JtqiF5SE7Zmz1KAwLHaQ8z-mSJuhl1YkB8KzGXpr2jaPUpwxVE9bxBypuSvRVbujxxILDegwuxuAU566QAoKRLGxeZH8T7a64k4/s1600/Pentecost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="710" data-original-width="1476" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNznnWtBwwKlLCeCYeZJ1smpTePPAJphAc0stSfKL0JtqiF5SE7Zmz1KAwLHaQ8z-mSJuhl1YkB8KzGXpr2jaPUpwxVE9bxBypuSvRVbujxxILDegwuxuAU566QAoKRLGxeZH8T7a64k4/s400/Pentecost.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As
we gather to celebrate Pentecost today, I find myself asking lots of questions:
the most important of which is probably, “What is God up to in this crazy,
messed up, broken world of ours?” What is God the Holy Spirit up to, with so
much pain and division, discord, disagreement and even hatred among people,
among God’s beloved, cherished, holy people? You may well be asking these same
questions, too. What is God up to? Because it certainly doesn’t make sense.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Yesterday’s
horrific news from London—a van running into a crowd of people at 50 miles per
hour, and then people stabbed on London Bridge and elsewhere in the city—only
reinforces how profoundly broken and discordant human life is today. And, of
course, that’s just the latest example. There are many places that are far, far
worse, in which regular violence is an expected reality of life. Where is God
today, in this mess? That’s what I am wondering. That’s what I want to know.
And, I think, that’s what the world wants and needs to know. Where is God when
we need him, where is God when we need her?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sometimes,
especially lately, it seems that all we hear is a cacophony of voices and
languages, much like that first Pentecost day. Only in that case, we read that
although the languages spoken were many and varied, they miraculously could be
understood. Today, unfortunately, understanding is a lot harder to come by.
Perhaps that’s because we prefer to listen only the voices in our own heads—or
the voices on our favorite cable news station—and so we don’t hear, and we
certainly don’t understand voices and languages that differ from ours. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But
even that can’t be the whole answer. It can’t explain why life is treated so
expendably. It can’t explain why hatred is so rife, or what God is doing to
transform the world from this mess into something that more closely resembles
the Kingdom of Peace and Justice, the Kingdom of wholeness and abundant life
that Jesus envisioned and taught us about.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thankfully,
despite all the discord and confusion, our scripture readings for today can
probably help, if we consider them carefully. First, let’s recall the powerful
reading from the Acts of the Apostles. In it we heard: “And suddenly from
heaven there came a sound like a rush of violent wind, and it filled the entire
house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among
them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the
Holy Spirit ....”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like
the rush of a violent wind. Not hesitantly or wimpy. But forcefully. Revealing
the power of the God. You may know that although we focus on the gift of the
Holy Spirit especially at Pentecost, we find references to the Spirit throughout
scripture–in both the Old and New Testaments. Interestingly, while in the
church we have often used a gender neutral pronoun (it) or male pronouns (he,
him), for the Holy Spirit, in the Old Testament and in the Hebrew Tradition,
the Spirit is called Sophia, and referred to using feminine pronouns—she and
her. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This
is the same Spirit who enlivens and inspires the prophets, speaking through
them to call God’s people to work for justice and peace. This is the Spirit who
descends on Jesus in his baptism and drives him into the wilderness. And, of
course, the Spirit blows in on the disciples at Pentecost. In fact, the Spirit
doesn’t just blow in on them. The Spirit fills them, scripture tells us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The
second source for encouragement and understanding in our complex world
situation is the gospel reading from John. In terms of the timeline, this
gospel passage comes earlier. It actually takes place on Easter day. But we are
hearing it again for its description of Jesus sharing the Spirit with his
friends. What’s especially interesting is that these friends of Jesus are doing
what a lot of us would like to do when our hearts and souls are filled with
fear. They are in a locked room. They are trying to stay safe in a society that
to them feels increasingly dangerous. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
their case, so long ago, they were worried that they might be arrested and
crucified like Jesus. In our case, we might want to lock ourselves in out of
fear of terrorism and violence. We may convince ourselves that it isn’t safe to
go outside, to walk city streets, to take trips to London, Paris, Munich, or
Stockholm. We may even start to believe that we can’t trust the people around
us. Like the disciples, fear often grips us as well. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I
remember after both 9/11 and the Boston Marathon Bombing I was uneasy about
going out. On 9/11, I was working in Boston for Episcopal City Mission at the
diocesan offices and I worried about riding the subway home from work downtown
to Jamaica Plain, especially since two of the planes came from here. Once I was
home, I didn’t want to leave the house again. I felt the same following the
Marathon Bombing. Not the day of the attack so much, but the Thursday evening
and Friday after, when the brothers reappeared in Watertown and the younger was
at large. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Do
you remember that bizarre day, when large swaths of the of Boston area were in
lockdown? Quincy wasn’t, so we were able to go out for lunch and a walk, but I
was nervous doing so. It was eerily quiet, with just the sound of sirens
ringing through the air. Tanks rolled through city streets and SWAT teams
knocked on doors in Boston, Cambridge, and Watertown, until the younger brother
was found in a man’s boat. Thinking of it again, 4 years later, makes me a
little uneasy. I just wanted to be home, with the door locked. I have no doubt
that today people all over the world feel much the same.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But
scripture tells us that it is precisely into those same locked rooms, and into
our own locked and fearful hearts, that the Holy Spirit breaks in, breathing
life and fire, power, strength, and courage into human souls. What’s more, and
this is the truly challenging part, we read that from their locked rooms and
from their locked hearts the disciples, the friends of Jesus, were in fact sent
out. Do you notice how Jesus says, “’Peace be with you. As the Father has sent
me, so I send you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">They
receive the Holy Spirit and then they are sent out, maybe even driven out, much
like Jesus was driven out by the Spirit into the wilderness following his
baptism, to confront demons and temptations, and to contend with fear,
uncertainty and a world of pain and loss. On Pentecost the disciples were sent
out into wildernesses as well. They were sent out to be the Body of Christ, to
be Christ’s presence, to be God’s presence—God’s living, breathing, loving
presence—in a wilderness world that desperately needed them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And,
by now, you’ve figured out where I am going with this. We—who have likewise
been filled with the Holy Spirit—are being sent out as well. God’s Spirit
empowers us to unlock our doors—whether to our homes, our church, or our
hearts—so that we can let God in, and so that we can go out, like the first
disciples, to be the Body of Christ, to be Christ’s presence, to be God’s
living, breathing, and loving presence, in a wilderness world that desperately
needs us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To
return to my opening question, where is God in this crazy, messed up, broken world?
God is right here. Right here with us, and in us. Alive in us. Propelling us
forward, to confront evil. Propelling us onward, to transform cold and hardened
hearts. God is right here, burning in us, giving us the power to heal and hope,
to love and make whole. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On
Pentecost, God’s power becomes our power. On Pentecost God’s life becomes our
life. And on Pentecost God’s love becomes our love. It’s not the end of an
ancient story, typing up the loose ends of Jesus’ life long ago. Rather, it is
the beginning of an ever new story, and ever new reality—inspired by the life
of Christ, in fact continuing his life, in new ways and in new places.
Pentecost is the story and reality of God’s presence in and with and for the
world now and today. It is nothing less than God’s Spirit, alive in us, that
gives us the power and strength and courage we need to take on this messed up,
broken, painful reality that we know, and transform it into something better,
something whole, something alive. Because if we don’t do it, who will?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Where
is God? God is right here. Can you feel him? Can you feel her? Alive in you,
burning in your heart, taking hold of your soul? “And suddenly from heaven
there came a sound like a rush of violent wind, and it filled the entire house
where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and
a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit
....”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To God be the glory: Father, and the Son, and the
Holy Spirit. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span></span></b><b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-21206418794682978312017-04-20T19:28:00.000-07:002017-04-20T19:32:42.968-07:00On Resurrection, Star Wars, and Special Effects: A Sermon for Easter Morning<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Those
who are regular parishioners at Emmanuel Church, and those who visit us often
for big festival days—like Easter and Christmas—know that I am a major <i>Star Wars</i> fan. They know because I talk
about it lots. In fact, I think some parishioners even place bets on whether (or
how often) I will mention <i>Star Wars</i>
in my holiday sermons. I don’t do it every Sunday, just so you know, but
holidays somehow bring out my youthful enthusiasm. So, if you made such a bet
this year, you definitely won. And since the next movie—<i>The Last Jedi</i>—is coming out at Christmastime this year, you can
place your bets early that I won’t be able to restrain myself, and will be
talking about it again then. Almost certainly<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Well,
the reason I mention <i>Star Wars</i> this
morning—beyond the fact that an exciting new trailer was released on Friday, along
with some behind the scenes photos of the filming, including some of our
beloved late Princess Leia—besides all that, is because this morning’s Easter
gospel passage from St. Matthew sounds to me like it comes directly out of a
George Lucas script, with dramatic special effects created by Industrial Light
and Magic: a great earthquake; the appearance of an angel, as bright as
lightning; guards shaking and becoming like dead men; and the women looking on
in stunned awe and wonder. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s
a scene that would fit in any contemporary sci fi movie. And yet, as reported
in the gospel, it is a story nearly 2,000 years old. So, either the author,
Matthew the evangelist, had a spectacular imagination—even without the aid of
movie special effects—or he was describing in the only way he could the
phenomenal experience at the tomb on Easter morning. Personally, I tend to
think it was the latter. It wasn’t just his especially vivid imagination at
work here. Resurrection wasn’t something that someone just made up a long time
ago and described in dramatic fashion. Rather, instead, it was a new, powerful,
and truly earth-shaking kind of reality that many, many friends of Jesus, like
the women there at the tomb, experienced as really real, even if the whole
story was unbelievable and even preposterous to others. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unfortunately,
though, sometimes as time passes we can get caught up or tripped up in the
fantastic language and imagery of spectacle, and we wonder if it could possibly
be true—in the same way that we easily dismiss a science fiction movie as
thrilling to watch, but very far from the reality we know. For example, I’ve
never seen any dazzling, lightning bright angels, any more than I’ve actually
seen Darth Vader. And I definitely haven’t seen my loved ones come back to life,
much as I miss them and want to have them here with me again. So, then this
Easter magic, is it really real, or is it a fanciful dream, or is it maybe just
an impossible wish?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVETVPZFrBoZtUlaAlUBVNH4uXaNPCwDtxRNE9pz0ehDzkw4ZGMRRLlP7Gf2a1DqvTVTfqSiMCerSNdL7YsWo0aA5ZXAONsOWKZII9UpUcomgxvapOchrqmghx7s4r0Z1TeZVfSfZW_A/s1600/Mary-at-tomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVETVPZFrBoZtUlaAlUBVNH4uXaNPCwDtxRNE9pz0ehDzkw4ZGMRRLlP7Gf2a1DqvTVTfqSiMCerSNdL7YsWo0aA5ZXAONsOWKZII9UpUcomgxvapOchrqmghx7s4r0Z1TeZVfSfZW_A/s320/Mary-at-tomb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Obviously,
the resurrection of Jesus is not something that we can prove in an empirical or
scientific way. The first Easter was much too long ago for that. And besides,
you can’t really prove matters of faith anyway—because they are just that,
matters of faith. What’s more, all four gospels describe the resurrection
somewhat differently, if you set them side by side—Matthew’s version is by far
the most dramatic, with the earthquake and angel appearing like lightning—but
they each seek to put into words that are ultimately too small and limited an
experience, a reality, that probably was and is beyond words or adequate
explanation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You
may have noticed that this time of year there are always TV specials that seek
to prove or disprove that something in the Bible happened. I even recently read
an article in the British newspaper the <i>Guardian</i>
which dealt with whether Jesus was even a real person—apparently 40% of the
adult British population question whether Jesus really lived. Despite this
skepticism, the overwhelming evidence is that Jesus was real—which is not news
to any of us here this morning. Though, sometimes the finer details his life
can be elusive. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In
any case, while all of these investigations can most definitely be interesting,
I think they tend to miss the greater point in the biblical narrative. They get
so bogged down in whether and how something was possible that they fail to
recognize that the whole purpose of such stories is to reflect upon the belief
that God was and is active in the world, and in particular that God was and is
active in the lives of ordinary people, in the lives of people just like us. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What
we know, beyond the earthquake, the lightning bright angel, and the divine special
effects, is that belief in the resurrection, belief in the life-changing and even
world-changing miracle of Easter has encouraged, sustained, and propelled
people of faith for 2000 years—from the women at the tomb early on the first
Easter morning, all the way to us today. Comfort and encouragement, empowerment
and liberation, hope and new life are all the hallmarks of this fantastic day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What
the miracle of Easter tells us is that the God we believe in is more powerful
than death. The miracle of Easter tells us that the God we believe in can and
will and does overcome evil with new and abundant life. The miracle of Easter
tells us that there is nothing more powerful than the love and life of God—not
the cross, not the mightiest empire on earth, not the power of sin, not our own
wayward desires and failings. Nothing. What’s more, this mighty, powerful resurrection
is not something that God did once for Jesus a long time ago, while the rest of
us wait and wait and wait. If it were just that, it wouldn’t have much meaning
at all. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">No,
what happened on that first Easter morning was really just the beginning. It
was the opening chapter, or maybe the first scene, in a powerful, dynamic,
living story—a living story that God continues to write and direct, sometimes without
so many special effects, but in real human lives, in lives just like ours. Jesus’
resurrection was just the beginning of a new age of life and love, of
liberation and empowerment. But, like the women at the tomb, it is up to us to
share the good news of this resurrection. It is up to us to witness to its
power and earth-shaking truth. It is even up to us to make resurrection real. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We
do that, we make resurrection real, by rising ourselves. By rising from the
stone-cold tombs that we create and too often call home. We make resurrection
real by living—fully, abundantly, and freely. We make resurrection real by
giving ourselves over to God’s love: a love so great that it was willing to die
for us, even as we, like Jesus, share God’s love in full measure. We make
resurrection real by being, by truly being, the living and breathing Body of
Christ in a world that desperately needs us, in a world that desperately needs
the life-shaking, world-shaking, liberating, empowering hope of resurrection
faith now more than ever. We make resurrection real by knowing and testifying
to the fact that nothing can separate us from the love of God—no government, no
cross, no illness, no poverty, no evil, no death. Nothing. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That’s
what resurrection meant 2000 years ago, on that first Easter morning, and it’s
what it means even still, even now, even today. The special effects—earthquakes
and dazzling, lightning bright angels—are dramatic, a nice touch to make us sit
up and take notice. But they are not the real thing. The real thing is life.
New life. Abundant life. Liberated life. The real thing is your life. It’s my
life. It’s Jesus’ life. Life lived in and with God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Be
that life today. Make Easter real today. Make resurrection real. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But the angel said to the women, “Do not
be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not
here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.
Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and
indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my
message for you.” So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and
ran to tell his disciples.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let’s
join them as they run and shout, with our lives, Alleluia! Christ is risen.
Amen.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P.
Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-44213290694739594702017-03-16T17:15:00.000-07:002017-03-16T17:15:12.603-07:00Remembering St. Patrick<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Focus on Faith<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Published in the <i>Wakefield Daily Item</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>March 15, 2017</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If
you had met my grandfather and were to ask him about his ethnic or cultural
background, he would have told you that he was Irish, and that his ancestors
came from County Cork. What always seemed funny to me, though, is that our last
name sounds more English than Irish. After undertaking online genealogical
research I discovered that, indeed, our ancestral background is more
complicated than Grandpa was aware (or likely would have admitted). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">His
first ancestors came to the American colonies from England in the late 17<sup>th</sup>
century, landing in Boston and then settling in Connecticut. The Irish
ancestors came much later, in the 19<sup>th</sup> century. A subsequent DNA
test confirmed these discoveries, suggesting that Grandpa was likely 65% Irish
and 35% English. He died in 1986, so I am saved the difficult task of sharing
these shocking discoveries with him. From his current vantage point it likely
doesn’t matter nearly as much. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Later
this week, on March 17, people of many heritages and backgrounds will be
observing St. Patrick’s Day. For one day, we are all a little Irish—whatever facts
our family trees or DNA tests may reveal. For some, St. Patrick’s Day is an
opportunity to party—to wear green, drink a Guinness or Irish whisky, eat a
dinner of corned beef and cabbage, and maybe attend a parade. Sometimes the
celebrations of Irish pride can get a little raucous, though all in good fun. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Unfortunately,
St. Patrick himself is often left behind in the burst of green exuberance. He
was a fascinating figure, the impact of whose life we are still feeling today. Ironically,
St. Patrick was not, himself, Irish. He was born on the northwest coast of
Britain about the year 390. His grandfather had been a Christian priest and his
father was a deacon and an official in the Roman imperial government of
Britain. At about the age of 16, Patrick was captured by Irish slave-raiders
and brought to Ireland, where he was forced into service as a shepherd. Later he
wrote that he deepened in his relationship with God during his enslavement. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After
six years of captivity, Patrick escaped. He took an arduous journey by foot to
the Irish coast, where he found a ship that took him back to Britain. Once
there, he devoted himself to the study of Christianity. Eventually he was
ordained as a priest and bishop. A powerful vision led him to return to
Ireland, around the year 431—this time as a missionary, rather than as a slave.
His new life in Ireland was not easy. His teaching and presence were not always
well received. He was a foreigner, without the protection of local kings and
chieftains. He spent time in prison and at one point feared execution. In his
autobiography he writes that he was criticized by his contemporaries for his
lack of learning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Even
so, Patrick’s message of Christian hope led to the conversion of many. Legend
suggests that he used local symbols to explain the Christian faith—like the
three-leaved shamrock to explain the doctrine of the Trinity. He made his
appeal to local kings and through them to their tribes, leading thousands to be
baptized. Patrick ordained priests and had churches erected over sites held as
sacred by the old pagan religion. Crosses were carved on old druidic pillars.
He rededicated sacred wells and springs under the protection of Christian
saints. Tradition holds that Patrick died on March 17, 461. Although never
canonized by a pope, he was venerated as a saint by the Irish people and local
Christian communities soon after his death. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What
we know of Patrick’s actual life is far more inspiring than the exuberant
parties on his feast day would lead us to believe. He is a saint for the Irish
people, of course. But, in reality, he can be admired by people of diverse
backgrounds—immigrants in desperate search of better lives in new lands, those
whose strong faith sustains them through trials and tribulations, people seeking
release from captivity and enslavement of many kinds, and anyone in search of
meaning and hope. Patrick’s life and story can be guide and inspiration to us
all as we journey through life and draw closer to God, whatever our ethnic or
religious background. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, Happy
St. Patrick’s Day—to Grandpa Howie, to you, and all who are or who feel Irish
this week. May Patrick’s life inspire you in your own search for meaning, hope,
and new life. May he lead you to welcome the stranger with open hearts and open
arms. May his life of faith spark your own faith. Most of all, may God bless
you. <i>Sláinte!</i></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> ©
The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-89779514824774319202017-01-22T18:05:00.004-08:002017-01-22T18:05:48.985-08:00On Politics, Prophecy, and Fishing for People: A Sermon Following an Inauguration<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So,
it may—or it may not—surprise you to know that sometimes, some weeks, I have a
hard time figuring out what I should say in my sermons. Sometimes it’s because
the readings appointed for the day are rather obscure or obtuse, other times because
my life was just too full to focus that week, or sometimes it’s because of
world events. This is one of those times. Like many, I am struggling to make
sense of the news and changes of past week and what they will mean for us—as
Americans, as Christians, and as citizens of the world. For much of the last
week (and really since November 9), I tried to keep my head down— focusing on
other things, like the church budget, making sure we have candidates in place
for our own parish elections, and a rather exuberant and expensive burst online
shopping. Retail therapy it’s called. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But,
of course, at some point I have to start following the news again. It will
probably not come as too much of a surprise to most of you to hear that when it
comes to electoral politics, I am a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat. Although it
doesn’t exactly show up on the ancestry.com DNA test, it is definitely one of
the genes I inherited from my parents. When I was growing up in Minnesota we
even had an autographed photograph of Hubert Humphrey our state’s great hero—inscribed
to my father. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Of
course, I know that here in our congregation are people of every political
persuasion. Some, likely, are excited and hopeful about the new administration
in Washington, some are uncertain, and others are filled with anxiety and
probably fear and even dread. And yet somehow, in some mysterious God-filled
way, we are one community, one family, and one Body in Christ. That fact is one
of the greatest joys in my life—in all of our diversity of belief and
background, each week we come together in love, to be nourished and
strengthened by God’s word, by God’s sacraments, and by the people God has
placed in our lives—even people with whom we may disagree. It is not an
exaggeration to say that my heart grows in love each time I see you—Democrats,
Republicans, Socialists, Independents, liberals and conservatives. I am a
better, more generous, and more thoughtful person because I know you, because I
love you, because you fill my heart—when we agree, when we disagree, and
always. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
so, my hope, at this critical time in our national life, is that we will find a
way to be an example for others, a beacon of hope even, for how people can live
together and love together through their disagreement. Not because we shy away from
discussing important issues, but because we know that what unites us is real,
true, and lasting love. Love that is a gift from God. Love that transforms us,
from the inside out. And love that sometimes calls us to speak out and speak
up, to confront what we see as a deviation from God’s dream and plan for God’s
beloved people.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFy5CHIbagMUOVYGe3et2ezf4P-9zQvIRoltXcj82OXCU1KKVucaY1ZX9W4ZPpjy8u2dNHE15jPCCay7sDFIgZjXEghf_ZQmPoIpF8CiGRXtU81ULxNOh3V4Xyxj8bSRy9VYJ4kt3nrw/s1600/isaiah_prophet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyFy5CHIbagMUOVYGe3et2ezf4P-9zQvIRoltXcj82OXCU1KKVucaY1ZX9W4ZPpjy8u2dNHE15jPCCay7sDFIgZjXEghf_ZQmPoIpF8CiGRXtU81ULxNOh3V4Xyxj8bSRy9VYJ4kt3nrw/s1600/isaiah_prophet.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some
2,700 years ago the Prophet Isaiah wrote: “The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them light
has shined. You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they
rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest…. For the yoke of their burden, and
the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as
on the day of Midian.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It
was and still is a powerful message of hope, and it reminds us that people of
faith have always looked to the power of God to transform lives and transform
the world, in accordance with the principles of justice, peace, and truth. When
Isaiah wrote, in the 8<sup>th</sup> century BC, foreign armies, the Assyrians—from
modern day Iraq, Syria, and Turkey—were encroaching on the Kingdom of Judah,
where Isaiah lived. He interpreted this as God’s judgment for their lack of
faithfulness and commitment to the principles of justice and righteousness. He
was particularly critical of princes and judges who neglect to defend and
support the poor and oppressed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In
the chapter that follows today’s passage, he writes this: “Ah, you who make iniquitous
decrees, who write oppressive statues, to turn aside the needy from justice and
to rob the poor of my people their right, that widows may be your spoil, and
that you make the orphan your prey! What will you do on the day of punishment,
in the in the calamity that will come from far away? To whom will you flee for
help, and where will you leave your wealth, so as not to crouch among the
prisoners or fall among the slain? For all this his anger has not turned away;
his hand is stretched out still…” It’s a heavy warning, a reminder of how we
are called to live and how we are called not to live. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But,
even as he wrote that, Isaiah was confident that God’s chosen—the poor, the
oppressed, and those who pursue justice and righteousness—would survive and
thrive, restored to abundant life in Zion, the holy city. It may take time, but
he believed that restoration would come. “The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them
light has shined.” He believed it had to, because he believed in God, he
believed in a God of justice and righteousness. This belief was his faith, his
hope, and his life. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">700
years later, Matthew, the author of the gospel, drew inspiration from Isaiah’s
words. In fact, he quoted them exactly, as we heard this morning. When Matthew
wrote, it wasn’t the Assyrians who were the great threat, but in the Roman
armies, which had flattened Jerusalem. Over 350,000 people were killed in the
siege.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The
first-century Jewish historian Josephus, who witnessed the siege, described the
destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in this way: “As the legions charged in,
neither persuasion nor threat could check their impetuosity: passion alone was
in command… everywhere was slaughter and flight. Most of the victims were
peaceful citizens, weak and unarmed, butchered wherever they were caught. Round
the Altar the heaps of corpses grew higher and higher, while down the Sanctuary
steps poured a river of blood and the bodies of those killed at the top slithered
to the bottom.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It
seems very long ago now, nearly 2000 years, but we shouldn’t forget that the
gospels were written in the shadow of that horror, which upended and destroyed
everything that sacred. People of faith, scattered across the middle east,
wondered where they would find hope amid true carnage and oppression under the
crushing power of the Roman Empire. Matthew’s answer was in Jesus Christ—a
different kind of messiah, who came to power not by commanding armies or with
the machinery of war, but instead by inspiring fishermen and carpenters, tax
collectors and even prostitutes. It was, Matthew believed, through Jesus and
his disciples—as they fished for people, as they broke down barriers, and as
they cared for the poor, the sick and disabled—that Isaiah’s vision would come
to life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In
other words, Matthew believed that Isaiah’s vision would come to life through a
movement—a grass roots movement of ordinary and not especially perfect people, people
a lot like us, who were transformed from the inside out by their encounter with
the living God, whether that encounter was with Jesus in the flesh by the
Galilean Sea as it was for Peter and Andrew, James and John, or for those who
came later, sacramentally and spiritually through the Body of Christ, the
community that Jesus established as his on-going presence and life in the
world. Matthew, so long ago, even in the wake of Rome’s wreckage, believed that
this Jesus movement had the power to transform the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And
you know what, so do I. Some of that transformation may come through the
political process, as we vote for candidates who match our values, and then,
whether our side wins or loses, as we lobby those who are elected to represent
us to stand up for the values of justice and peace. That is important work in a
democracy like ours—our elected officials need to hear from us, they need to
know that we care about the life-changing decisions that they are called to
make. That’s why yesterday’s Women’s Marches, in Washington, here in Boston,
and all over the world are so significant, inspiring ordinary people like us to
work for what they believe in. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But
even more, the true transformation that we hope for comes in our daily lives
and interactions, as we live like Christ lived, as we break down barriers, as
we feed the hungry and clothe the naked, as we combat oppression and
discrimination whenever and however we encounter it. And most especially and
importantly, that transformation will come as we intentionally work to expand
our hearts, making room for those whose world views may be different from ours.
It’s not always easy, of course. Sometimes it’s really hard. But it is who we
are called to be, and how we are called to live—as Christians, as followers of
Christ, and as fishers of people.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Friday,
Inauguration Day, a cable channel called “Decades” was replaying past
presidential Inaugural addresses—from Eisenhower to Obama. Late at night I saw
a few of them. They were fascinating. Surprisingly, I was really impressed with
the first Nixon inauguration speech. It was really good, even inspirational.
Given his later history and the fact that he beat my family’s hero, Hubert
Humphrey, I wasn’t expecting that at all. My dad is not looking down on me very
happily at the moment—look out for stay bolts of lightning today. Of course,
the one that really stands out is Kennedy’s. Whether we were alive yet or not—I
was still 12 years away—we all remember his iconic lines: “the Torch is passed
to a new generation of Americans,” and “ask not what your country can do for
you, ask what you can do for your country.” It inspired a generation into service.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Less
well remembered were his closing sentences. He said: “Finally, whether you are
citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high
standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience
our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go
forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing
that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">President
Kennedy was absolutely correct. God’s work is our own. It is up to us, with
God’s help and with God’s blessing, to transform the world, to transform
hearts, to bring justice and end oppression, to break down barriers and to fish
for people, so that Isaiah’s ancient dream finally and truly becomes reality,
through us: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those
who lived in a land of deep darkness-- on them light has shined. You have
multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as
with joy at the harvest…. For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across
their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of
Midian.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Together,
as the Body of Christ, as the Jesus movement, as fishers of people, we can make
it so. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-8190454786931691032016-11-17T21:25:00.001-08:002021-03-12T09:51:07.126-08:00Episcopal Church Seminary Timeline<div class="MsoTitle">
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>Episcopal Church Seminary Timeline</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">with particular attention to the histories of the Philadelphia Divinity School, Episcopal Theological School, and the Episcopal Divinity School.</span></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Prepared by the Rev. Matthew P.
Cadwell, PhD (EDS ’99)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA" style="text-transform: uppercase;">1789</span></b><span lang="EN-CA" style="text-transform: uppercase;">—</span><span lang="EN-CA">General Convention
adopted the Constitution and Canons of the Church, stipulating that: “No person
shall be ordained in this Church until he shall have satisfied the Bishop and
the two Presbyters, by whom he shall be examined, that he is sufficiently
acquainted with the New Testament in the original Greek, and can give an
account of his faith in the Latin tongue, either in writing or otherwise, as
may be required.” (Canon 8).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1804</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—House of Bishops set a “Course of Ecclesiastical Studies,”
including an appended list of books for “the Library of a Parish Minister.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA" style="text-transform: uppercase;">1817</span></b><span lang="EN-CA" style="text-transform: uppercase;">—gENERAL tHEOLOGICAL seMINARY </span><span lang="EN-CA">established in New York City by act of General Convention, with set
curriculum. GTS is the first and official seminary of the Episcopal Church. Bishop William White of Pennsylvania disagrees with the idea of a national seminary, and would prefer regional or diocesan schools for the training of clergy, but agrees to support the will of the broader church. The Rev. Dr. Samuel Turner, who had been appointed by White as teacher of theology in Pennsylvania, is subsequently appointed first professor at GENERAL SEMINARY. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1824</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Protestant Episcopal
Theological Seminary (Virginia Theological Seminary)</span> established in
Alexandria, VA. VTS was evangelical and missionary in outlook, in contrast to
the high church and establishment sensibility of GTS. </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Among its founders
were Bishop William Meade, the third Bishop of Virginia, and Francis Scott Key,
whose 1814 poem “The Defence of Fort McHenry” became the text for the National
Anthem in 1931. In 1818, Francis Scott Key formed “An Education Society” and
five years later opened the “School of Prophets,” to become the </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-transform: uppercase;">PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> IN VIRGINIA. The school opened with two instructors and 14 students enrolled.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1824</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Kenyon College</span>
established in Worthington Ohio, by Bishop Philander Chase, for the purpose of
training candidates for ministry. Institution moved to Gambier Hill in 1825. <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley Hall</span> as the seminary component
of the college, was later separately identified, in honor of Nicholas
Vansittart, 1<sup>st</sup> Baron Bexley, an early benefactor of the college.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1834</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological
Seminary in Kentucky</span> established in Lexington by Bishop Benjamin
Bosworth Smith to provide education on the western frontier. Fell into quick
decline by 1837 due to financial troubles. Later had nominal existence as a
department of Shelby College in Shelbyville, KY.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1841</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Nashotah House</span>
established in Nashotah, Wisconsin at the urging of western missionary Bishop
Jackson Kemper by recent graduates of General Theological Seminary: James Lloyd
Breck, William Adams, and John Henry Hobart, Jr. Established as a semi-monastic
missionary seminary with a high church sensibility. The first graduate, in 1845, was Gustaf Unonius, a Swedish immigrant who was ordained by Jackson Kemper and worked to establish Swedish Episcopal congregations in the Upper Midwest, until returning to Sweden.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1854</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Berkeley Divinity School</span>
founded in Middletown, CT. Named for the Irish philosopher and bishop George Berkeley, it offered a middle way between the high church
sensibility of General Seminary and the evangelicalism of Virginia Theological
Seminary. Bishop John Williams of CT served simultaneously as Berkeley’s first
dean and instructor in church history and theology. </span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; text-align: center;">1854</b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; text-align: center;">—James DeKoven joined the faculty of NASHOTAH HOUSE. The most widely-known and respected leader of the Anglo-Catholic movement in the 19th century American Church, DeKoven brought many of the principals and practices of the Tractarian movement to the attention of the Episcopal Church, especially a firm belief in the doctrine of the Real Presence. He later defended the practice of Eucharistic adoration. He left NASHOTAH HOUSE in 1859 to serve as warden of Racine College, but his imprint on the seminary was profound. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">DeKoven was nominated Bishop of Massachusetts in
1872 and of Milwaukee in 1874. He was elected but not consecrated Bishop of
Illinois in 1875 because he did not receive the necessary consents from a
sufficient number of diocesan standing committees in the Episcopal Church. He
was never made a bishop, but is remembered as the "American Keble."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1857</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">University of the South </span>established
in Sewanee, Tennessee by 10 dioceses: Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia,
Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Texas.
It was established to provide denominational education free from northern
domination. Formal education delayed due to the start of the Civil War. <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">School of Theology</span> opened in 1868.
Several Confederate leaders were prominent in the life of the university,
before and after the Civil War. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1857</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">the</span> <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Divinity School of the Protestant Episcopal
Church in Philadelphia</span> (<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia
Divinity School</span>) established by Bishop Alonzo Potter. Dr. George Emlen
Hare, a graduate of General Seminary, served as the first dean. PDS came to
fuller and more organized life in 1862, with the establishment of a Board of
Trustees, Board of Overseers, appointment of instructors, and a charter, and
constitution. Courses of study were open to students of all races.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1858</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—SEABURY DIVINITY SCHOOL established in Fairbault, Minnesota by
James Lloyd Breck, previously first dean of Nashotah House, and Solon Manney.
It was intended to be part of a larger Bishop Seabury University, which never came to
be; however, the DIVINITY SCHOOL flourished for a time under the leadership Henry Benjamin Whipple, first bishop of Minnesota. Though founded by Breck, SEABURY developed a low church and missionary frontier sensibility. Notably, it included white and Native American students.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>1862-1865</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—During the Civil War, the Union Army took possession of the VIRGINIA THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY property in Alexandria and used it as an army hospital. During the war it was used to house 1,7000 wounded federal troops, with 500 deceased buried on the grounds. The seminary was reopened following the war. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1867—</span></b><span lang="EN-CA" style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span><span lang="EN-CA"> founded in Cambridge, Mass. by Benjamin Tyler Reed, a Boston
businessman. Established with a lay Board of Trustees, to avoid ecclesiastical
interference on teaching. Instead, all teaching had to conform to the Doctrine
of Justification by Faith (as contrasted with the Unitarianism of Harvard
University and the High Church teaching of General Seminary). John Seely Stone,
previously on the faculty of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia
Divinity School</span>, appointed first dean. School supported by prominent
figures like Phillips Brooks, William Reed Huntington, Amos Adams Lawrence, and
Thomas March Clark. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1869</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—St. John’s Memorial Chapel built at <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>. Other buildings followed,
completed in a Flemish style by architects Ware and Van Brunt: Lawrence Hall,
Reed Hall, and Burnham Hall. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1878—</span></b><span lang="EN-CA" style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bishop Payne Divinity School</span><span lang="EN-CA"> founded in Petersburg, Virginia to train African Americans for
vocations in ministry in the Episcopal Church. Originally a branch of the
Virginia Theological Seminary and associated with the St. Stephen’s Normal and
Industrial School, it was led by the Rev. Thomas Spencer as Principal. In 1884
it was named for James Payne, first bishop of Liberia.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">1878—</b><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ST. ANDREW'S DIVINITY SCHOOL established in Syracuse, New York at the behest of Bishop Frederic Dan Huntington. It was meant to serve primarily as a seminary for the Diocese of Central New York. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Addressing his diocesan convention in 1876,
Bishop Huntington said: “Experience shows that the most experienced men for our
missionary service are those trained on our own ground. Reasons for this will
readily suggest themselves. Besides, every Bishop wants the use of all his own
candidates during their Diaconate, a period of great practical importance, for
the free work of itinerancy and in small stations, of which we have so much on
hand. It is clear to me that we shall never be furnished with a full force of
Evangelists and Associate Missioners till we educate them among ourselves. We
ought, therefore, to be looking forward to that measure, and shaping plans for
a training school at the center of the Diocese, conducted with a regular course
of study, lectures in the different departments of scientific and pastoral
Theology and parenetics by our own scholars, with terms of practical exercise
under Parish ministers. Such a class of Candidates for Orders, near at hand,
with their teachers, would be almost sure to impress many devout youths with the
demands of the sacred calling, and to turn them toward it.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1880s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
began offering training for deaconesses, often African Americans offering
education to freed slaves. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1883</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Western Theological Seminary</span>
founded in Chicago, IL under the leadership of Bishop William McLaren.
Western’s mission was to educate “fit persons in the Catholic Faith in its
purity and integrity, as taught in the Holy Scriptures, held by the Primitive
Church, summed up in the Creeds, and affirmed by the undisputed General
Councils.” It relocated to Evanston, IL in 1929 at the invitation of
Northwestern University and Garett Biblical Institute. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1893</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Divinity School of
the Pacific</span> founded in Man Mateo, California by Bishop William Ford
Nichols, second bishop of California. Originally called GIBBS HALL, after a
wealthy businessman, George Gibbs, who donated property. Several buildings destroyed
by the San Francisco earthquake of 1906, after which the seminary moved to San
Francisco on the grounds of Grace Cathedral. Included students from the west,
as well as from China, Japan, and the Pacific Islands.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">1893</b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL Dean William Lawrence is elected bishop of Massachusetts, following the unexpected death of Bishop Phillips Brooks. A theological liberal, his election to the episcopate brings the consternation of those concerned with theological orthodoxy. As bishop, he was instrumental in founding the Church Pension Fund. Lawrence was succeeded as dean at ETS by George Hodges, who serves until his death in 1919.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">│</span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>1905</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—ST. ANDREW'S DIVINITY SCHOOL in Syracuse, New York closes upon the death of its then dean, Theodore Babcock, having educated 74 candidates for the ministry, most ordained by Bishop Frederic Dan Huntington. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Included among them are George Hodges, dean of the EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL, and James Otis Sargent Huntington, founder and superior of the Order of the Holy Cross. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1915</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
relocates to a new campus adjacent to the University of Pennsylvania. The
campus plan called for a set of Gothic inspired buildings. While costs
prevented all planned buildings from being completed, the stunning St. Andrew’s
Collegiate Chapel was finished in 1925. The campus also included a classroom,
library, refectory, and deanery, with other faculty residences near by. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1922</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
New Testament Professor Norman Burdett Nash argues that women should be
ordained to the same orders as men. In 1921 a woman had applied for admission
to ETS in order to prepare to teach Bible, but her application was not
accepted. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1924</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
faculty publish <i>Creeds and Loyalty</i> in reaction to increasing pressure
for Episcopal Church seminaries to teach in conformity with doctrinal
orthodoxy. The faculty advocated instead freedom of biblical and creedal
interpretation, in line with theological modernism. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1924</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Divinity School of
the Pacific</span> relocates to Berkeley, California, to benefit from closer
association with other denominational seminaries already there. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1928</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Berkeley Divinity School</span>, under the leadership of its dean William Palmer Ladd, relocates from Middletown to New Haven to take advantage of the resources of
Yale University, as well as the opportunities for ministry and learning in an industrial center. A liturgical scholar, Dean Ladd sought to integrate the insights of the liturgical movement and the sacramental life with concerns for social justice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1929</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
begins admitting women to its programs of study, adapted for those preparing to
teach religion in colleges.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1931</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
graduates its first woman student, Elizabeth Hummerwell Willing. She was the
first woman to graduate from any Episcopal seminary. She went on to serve as
president of the Windham House, a national Episcopal training center for women.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1933</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Seabury Divinity School</span>
merged with <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Western Theological Seminary</span>
in Evanston, Illinois, forming <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Seabury-Western
Theological Seminary</span>. The new
seminary combined the low church sensibility of Seabury with the high church
outlook of Western. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1933-1935</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
is hit especially hard by the Great Depression. The School is forced to end the
1934 academic year early and faculty pay is suspended for six months (later
extended to over a year). Troubles are deemed to be both financial and
programmatic, with too little attention paid to practical training for pastoral
ministry. Several faculty resigned as PDS began a thorough reorganization to
respond to the growing need for pastoral and clinical training. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1935</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Two women apply for admission to <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Theological School</span> in Cambridge. Faculty agrees that if they apply as
cross-registrants through Radcliffe they can be permitted to take ETS classes.
But they are not admitted as ETS degree students.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1936</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
introduced <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Clinical Pastoral Education</span>
under the direction of Professor Reuel Howe. Students were required to have
field placements during all three years of study. A major faculty and
curricular change at PDS was undertaken to implement the clinical education
program. This began PDS’s move away from traditional academic education toward
a model grounded in praxis and experiential learning. Professor Howe later
taught pastoral theology at <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia
Theological Seminary</span>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1938</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
welcomes to the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Training and
Deaconess School</span> to its campus and appoints Katherine A. Grammer to the
faculty as Dean of Women. Women and men at PDS were both awarded the Bachelor
of Theology degree. Dean Grammer left PDS in 1945 for <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">St. Margaret’s House</span>, formerly the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Deaconess Training School of the Pacific</span>, in Berkeley,
California and associated with the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church
Divinity School of the Pacific</span> until its closure in 1966.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1938</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Several Episcopal Church seminaries receive early accreditation by
the Association of Theological Schools: <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Berkeley
Divinity School</span>; <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Divinity
School of the Pacific</span>; <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Theological School</span>; <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">General
Theological Seminary</span>; and <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia
Theological Seminary</span>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1941</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
in Cambridge hires Adelaide Teague Case as Professor of Christian Education.
Case is the first woman to serve as a regular faculty member in an Episcopal
seminary (and not principally for women students).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1941</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Divinity School of
the Pacific, </span>building on its relationship with <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">St. Margaret’s House</span>, admits women to its programs and
graduates Ethel Springer from its Bachelor of Divinity program, the first
Episcopal seminary to award the B.D. degree to a woman. (PDS had offered the
Bachelor of Theology).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1943</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
student Paul Washington (’46) lives in PDS dormitory. Although the seminary was
always open to African American students, Washington was the first African
American to reside on campus at PDS. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1949</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bishop Payne Divinity School</span>
closes after 70 years of education for African American candidates in the
south. It formally merged with <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia
Theological Seminary</span> in 1953.
The Virginia Seminary Library was subsequently renamed the Bishop Payne
Library in honor of the former school. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>1950</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—Professor Massey Hamilton Shepherd of the EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL publishes his influential book, <i>The Oxford American Prayer Book Commentary. </i>While at ETS he likewise published <i>The Living Liturgy</i> (1944) and <i>The Worship of the Church</i> (1952). A graduate of the BERKELEY DIVINITY SCHOOL, he later taught at the CHURCH DIVINITY SCHOOL OF THE PACIFIC from 1954 to 1981. <i> </i>He was a major architect in the development of the 1979 Prayer Book.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1951</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—John Walker, later bishop of Washington, enrolled as the first
African American student at <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia
Theological Seminary</span>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1951</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological
Seminary of the Southwest</span> established in Austin, Texas by Bishop John E.
Hines, coadjutor of Texas, as “a seminary for the while church.” The Rev. Gray
M. Blandy served as the first dean. It was founded as an racially integrated
institution.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1952</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Training and
Deaconess School</span> abruptly departs <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia
Divinity School</span> campus and relocates to New York, affiliating with the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Windham House Training Center for Women</span>.
The move ends decades of pioneering education for women at PDS.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1953</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">The University of the
South’s</span> policy against admitting African American students led to the
resignation of six faculty and the transfer of 35 of 56 divinity students in
protest. Soon the trustees reversed their position. In the fall of 1953 the
first black graduate student was admitted to the university. Merrick William
Collier of Savannah was enrolled as the first African American student in the
seminary in 1954. Segregation continued in the wider university and associated
properties, including a hotel and restaurant, into the 1960s.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1958</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
opened its bachelor of divinity programs to women on an equal basis with men.
Additionally, postulancy was no longer required for admission. Faculty
continued to call for the ordination of women to the diaconte and priesthood. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1962</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Divinity School of
the Pacific</span> joins the creation of the Graduate Theological Union in
Berkeley. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1965</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
students attend the freedom march in Selma. Jonathan Daniels and Judith Upham
stay in Alabama to work for civil rights and integrate St. Paul’s Church.
Daniels was murdered on August 20, 1965 in Hayneville, Alabama, at a
convenience store just after being released from jail. Daniels jumped in front
of Ruby Sales, an African American civil rights activist. She later attended
EDS as a student in the 1990s. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1966</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
Ethics Professor Joseph Fletcher publishes his ground-breaking and
controversial work, <i>Situation Ethics</i>. He argues that there is no
consistent ethical norm except love, which changes in every situation.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1967</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—St. John’s Memorial Chapel at <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Theological School</span> renovated, removing pews and stone altar, creating a
more flexible worship space. Renovations overseen by former Presiding Bishop
and ETS graduate, Arthur Carl Lichtenberger.
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1968</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
dean John Coburn, moved by the Civil Rights movement, resigns to teach at the
Urban League’s Street Academies in Harlem, New York. He later served as
President of the House of Deputies and Bishop of Massachusetts. Coburn was
succeeded as dean by Harvey Guthrie. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1968</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
hires Robert Avon Bennett as professor of Old Testament. A graduate of KENYON COLLEGE, GENERAL THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, and HARVARD UNIVERSITY, he is the first
African American faculty member at ETS.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1968</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley Hall</span>
disassociated from Kenyon College and relocated to the campus of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School</span>
in Rochester, New York. Also sharing the campus was ST. BERNARD'S SEMINARY, a Roman Catholic institution, thus creating a truly ecumenical venture of Roman Catholic, Baptist, Episcopal, and other Protestant traditions on one seminary campus. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1968</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Weston College</span> (later
<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Weston Jesuit SChool of Theology</span>)
relocated to the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological
School</span> campus in Cambridge. The BOSTON THEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE is founded
the same year, also initially housed at ETS. Thus began a new era of ecumenical
cooperation, inspired by Vatican II.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">1970</b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—The General Convention establishes the GENERAL BOARD OF EXAMINING CHAPLAINS to evaluate the academic preparation of candidates for ordained ministry in the Episcopal Church, with a goal of ensuring that ordination candidates across the church meet the same standards. The first General Ordination Exam is administered in 1972. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1970</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—John M. Burgess, <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Theological School</span> graduate of 1934, is elected bishop of Massachusetts.
He is the first African American diocesan bishop in the Episcopal Church. He previously
had been suffragan bishop of Massachusetts since 1962. Upon retirement in 1975,
Bishop Burgess taught at <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Yale Divinity
School</span>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1970s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
launches an innovative new curriculum, grounded in small group learning,
educational projects, and close student-faculty interaction.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1971</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Berkeley Divinity School</span>
federates with Yale University, with students earning degrees at Yale and
denominational training through Berkeley. BDS maintains its own President,
Board of Trustees, and endowment.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1971</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—EPISCOPAL THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL, GENERAL THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, and the
PHILADELPHIA DIVINITY SCHOOL form the Episcopal Consortium for Theological
Education in the Northeast: ECTNE anticipated a common curriculum, faculty and
student exchanges, a doctoral program, and potentially a merger. ECTENE
appointed adjunct faculty in the areas of urban mission and women in the
church, among them Suzanne R. Hiatt, ETS ’64.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1971</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Women first admitted as regular degree students at the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">General Theological Seminary</span>. Students
were permitted to marry in 1972.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1970s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Openly gay students were admitted to <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>, whereas in previous decades
students suspected of being gay were quickly dismissed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1973</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—The Episcopal Church’s <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Board
for Theological Education</span> announced that it would recommend to the
General Convention that year the consolidation of the church’s 11 seminaries
into four regional centers for theological education, with school’s in or near
Alexandria, VA; Chicago, IL; Berkeley, CA; and one in the Northeast (either
Boston, New York, or Philadelphia, noting the ECTENE cooperation already
underway). It likewise encouraged the Episcopal Church to offer increased
financial support for theological education. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1974</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Dean Harvey Guthrie of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Theological School</span> announces at the spring commencement that he will
resign unless an ordained woman is hired to the faculty over the next year, as
nearly half of ETS’s students are women.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1974</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological School</span>
and <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
merge in Cambridge to form the new <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Divinity School, </span>effective June 6, 1974. (General Seminary’s
constitution did not allow it to participate in a merger outside of New York
City). EDS builds on strengths of its parent institutions, including the BTI
and ETS’s long-standing association with Harvard, as well as the new competency
based curriculum pioneered at PDS. ETS and PDS deans Harvey Guthrie and Ed Harris serve as co-deans of the
new school. All tenured faculty of both schools are retained, 26 in total (16
from ETS and 10 from PDS).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1974</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—11 women deacons were irregularly ordained at Philadelphia’s Church
of the Advocate on July 29. The Rev. Paul Washington, rector and PDS graduate
of 1946, is master of ceremonies. ETS trustee and vice president of the House
of Deputies Dr. Charles V. Willie preaches. Several faculty members from both
ETS and PDS participate in laying on hands.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1975</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
hires two Philadelphia 11 priests to the new faculty, sharing one full-time
position: the Rev. Suzanne R. Hiatt (ETS ’64) and the Rev. Carter Heyward.
They were hired with full rights to serve as priests in</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> St. John’s Memorial Chapel. 22
faculty vote in favor of their hire. 4 faculty were opposed. Appointments draw
ire of many in the church as their ordinations were still considered
“irregular” or even “invalid.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1975</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School </span>establishes
a new program titled “the Pastoral Institute for Training in Alcohol Problems”
(PITAP), with funding by the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and
Alcoholism. The program was led by Professors Rollin Fairbanks, Edward Steiss,
and the Revs. Bruce Noyes (ETS’ 56) and Meredith Hunt (ETS’ 74). PITAP closed
in the 1980s due to a conclusion of its funding. Many graduates of that era
said it was the most important aspect of their ministry training.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1975</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">School of Theology</span> at
the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">University of the South</span>
launches a new program for lay ministry titled “Theological Education by
Extension.” Originally intended to
serve 28 southern dioceses, it eventually grows into <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Education for Ministry</span> serving the whole church.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1976</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Trinity Episcopal School for
Ministry</span> founded by evangelical and charismatic Episcopalians in
Ambridge, Pennsylvania. Bishop Alfred
Stanway, retired Australian missionary bishop to Tanzania, became the first
dean, followed by John Rodgers. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1977</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span>
campus sold to the University of Pennsylvania for only $607,000—far below the
estimated value of $2.8 million. Net proceeds of the sale were just $455,000,
leading to a considerable operating deficit at the new EPISCOPAL DIVINITY SCHOOL. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1970s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
faculty members “come out” as gay and lesbian. First was Ethics Professor
Hayden McCallum (previously of PDS) in 1974, followed by Carter Heyward in
1979. Notably, Heyward was not yet tenured. Each mentored increasing numbers of
LGBT students.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">1977</b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—The Council of Seminary Deans, Inc. affirm the ordination of women to the priesthood. Nine of ten Episcopal seminary deans pass the following resolution:</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span lang="EN-CA"> </span>“The Deans of nine accredited seminaries of
the Episcopal Church meeting at the Marydale Retreat House in Erlanger,
Kentucky, on December 2, 1977, expressed their firm belief in the significance
and value of the opening of the Priesthood and the Episcopate to women and
affirm their support for the ministry of the many women in Holy Orders who are
enriching the life and mission of the Church.” Deans voting in the affirmative were: <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Berkeley Divinity School at Yale</span>
(Charles H. Clark), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley Hall</span>
(Richard H. Mansfield), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Church Divinity
School of the Pacific</span> (Fredrick H. Borsch), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span> (Harvey H. Guthrie, Jr.), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Theological Seminary of the
Southwest</span> (Gordon T. Charlton), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">The
General Theological Seminary</span> (Roland Foster), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">School of Theology of the University of the South</span> (Urban T.
Holmes, III), <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Seabury-Western
Theological Seminary</span> (O.C. Edwards, Jr.), and <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia Theological Seminary</span> (Cecil Woods, Jr.). <span style="font-size: 12pt;">The Dean of </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-transform: uppercase;">Nashotah
House</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, the Very Rev. John Ruef, was unable to attend the meeting. His
representative at the meeting, the Rev. Prof. William Petersen, abstained from
voting. The deans further recommended that their faculties pass similar resolutions.</span></span><br />
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span lang="EN-CA">1978</span></b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">EPISCOPAL DIVINITY SCHOOL</span> holds a forum on institutional racism which attracts a gift of $20,000 for the recruitment of students of color. As a result of intentional recruitment efforts, EDS attracts 10 African American students during the 1982-1983 academic year.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>1981</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—Urban T. Holmes, Dean of the SCHOOL OF THEOLOGY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF THE SOUTH dies unexpectedly at the age of 51. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">A graduate of the </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-transform: uppercase;">Philadelphia Divinity School</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> before
being ordained a priest in the Episcopal Church in 1954, he was awarded the
Ph.D. degree from Marquette University in 1973 and taught previously at
NASHOTAH HOUSE. Dr. Fredrica Thompsett, who as director of the Church's Board
for Theological Education worked closely with Holmes, said of him: “I don't
know of anyone who did more work in shaping the contemporary theological
framework for the Church's ministry. In many circles, as conference leader, in
the Church's Council of Seminary Deans, and in ecumenical settings he was a
passionate and energetic voice for this role.”</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1983</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
conducts a racism audit, which called for a commitment to hire people of color
to the faculty.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1984</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">School of Theology</span> at
the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">University of the South</span>
elects Professor John E. Booty of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Divinity School</span> to serve as its dean.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1984</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
committed to hire feminist faculty in each academic department, joining
Professors Heyward and Hiatt. Three appointments were made in 1984: Katie
Geneva Cannon in ethics (first African American woman on the faculty),
Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza in New Testament, and Fredrica Harris Thompsett in
Anglican church history.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1980s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
included sexual orientation in its employment and admissions non-discrimination
statements and permitted same-sex couples to live in student and faculty
housing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1985</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
called Bishop Otis Charles of Utah as its dean upon the retirement of Harvey
Guthrie. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1986</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
established the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Feminist Liberation Theology
and Ministry</span> Program. FLTM utilized EDS’s curriculum and pedagogical
emphasis on experience to challenge traditional theological concepts, sexism,
heterosexism, and patriarchy in church and societyIts first director was the
Rev. Dr. Alison Cheek, a Philadelphia 11 priest and recent EDS D.Min.
graduate. She was followed as director by the Rev. Dr. Renee Hill and Dr. Gale
Yee.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1988</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
publishes inclusive language orders of worship for St. John’s Memorial Chapel,
utilizing resources prepared by the Episcopal Church. Dean Otis Charles leads
the effort, having previously been chair of the Standing Liturgical Commission.
Liturgical rites alternate weekly between Rite II and Inclusive Language.
Inclusive language canticles are likewise prepared, under the direction of
Professor of Music Alistair Cassels-Brown. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1989</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
establishes the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Parish Ministry in the
Contemporary World</span> program (later renamed <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Congregational Studies</span>). It was geared toward students who
wished to focus their programs on parish ministry preparation, integrating
theory and practice, with an emphasis on small group reflection. It was
initially directed by Professor George I. Hunter. After being reworked into the
Congregational Studies program, which included regular continuing education
seminars, it was directed by Charles Bennison and Sheryl Kujawa-Holbrook (EDS
’83). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1989</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
establishes <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">the Anglican, Global, and
Ecumenical Studies</span> program (AGE). Planning was led by Professor Ivan
Kaufman, previously of the PDS faculty, who had also taught at El Seminario
Episcopal del Caribe in Puerto Rico (Episcopal Theological Seminary of the
Caribbean). Aiding him were the Revs. Titus Pressler and Ian Douglas. Douglas
was elected to the faculty as the director of AGE in 1990. AGE sought to bring
an international perspective to campus through international student
scholarships, visiting lectures, etc.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1988</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
Trustee Barbara C. Harris elected Bishop Suffragan of Massachusetts.
Consecrated in 1989, Bishop Harris is the first woman bishop in the Anglican
Communion. The Rev. Suzanne Hiatt deeply involved in securing Harris’ election. Harris was awarded an honorary doctorate by EDS in 1989.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1991</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Under Dean Otis Charles, <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Divinity School’s</span> chapel is closed to weddings and commitment ceremonies
until a consensus can be reached on the appropriateness of same-sex blessings. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>1991</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—NASHOTAH HOUSE'S Board of Trustees reaffirms the seminary's opposition to women in the priesthood and maintained a ban on women presiding at the Eucharist in the seminary chapel. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In adopting a “Statement of
Identity,” the trustees advocated a return to a traditional and orthodox
program of formation for the male-only priesthood.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1991-1998</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
establishes two scholarships for US students of color: Absalom Jones
Scholarship and the J. Rawson Collins Scholarship.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1993</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Bishop Otis Charles resigns as dean of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>. Upon retirement he comes out as a
gay man, the first bishop of the Episcopal Church to do so. The Rev. Dr.
William Rankin (ETS ’66) called as President and Dean of EDS. Rankin was a
classmate of Jonathan Daniels and deeply committed to racial justice in church
and society. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span lang="EN-CA"><b>1994</b><span lang="EN-CA">—</span>Dean Rankin of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Divinity School</span> allows weddings to resume in St. John’s Memorial Chapel,
along with same-sex blessings.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">1994</b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—THE GENERAL THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY'S Trustees amend campus housing policy to allow same-sex couples to live in student and faculty housing. The change comes after Professor Deirdre Good brought a legal challenge to the seminary for precluding her to live in faculty housing with her partner. The new policy requires that s</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">tudents in same-sex
relationships who are preparing for ordination and seek seminary housing must
receive written approval from their diocesan bishop as a sign of “shared
responsibility” for the decision.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1994</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia Theological
Seminary</span> elects the Rev. Martha J. Horne as dean and president. Horne is
the first woman to serve as an Episcopal Church seminary dean. EDS awards her
an honorary doctorate in 1996.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1995</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
inaugurates the Foundations for Theological Praxis course for first year
students, with a focus on the integration of anti-racism awareness with
theological study and ministerial preparation.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1995</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
establishes the Change Team and Anti-Racism Facilitation Group. They recommend
that EDS “should focus on anti-racist, racial diversity and multicultural
change institutionally and culturally … as a dimension in every part of its
life, with the implication that all other forms of liberation would be
inherently addressed.” These commitments lead EDS to partner with VISIONS, Inc.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1998</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—William Rankin resigns as dean of EDS after 5 years. He takes new
position with the United Religions Initiative and later is co-founder of the
Global AIDS Interfaith Alliance. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1998</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley Hall</span>
re-established itself in Ohio, teaching on the campus of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Trinity Lutheran Seminary</span> in Columbus,
Ohio. In 2008 Bexley completely left the campus of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School</span> in New York.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1998</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia Theological
Seminary</span> changes policy on sexuality and inclusion, allowing openly gay
and lesbian students, if approved by their dioceses.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">1999</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Bishop Steven Charleston (EDS ’76) is called as President and Dean
of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>. A
Native American of the Choctaw Nation, Bishop Charleston is the first person of
color to lead an Episcopal seminary. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2000s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School’s</span>
program areas (FLT, AGE, and Cong. Studies) were ended due to financial
constraints. The curricular emphases continued in an integrated way, but
without faculty as dedicated directors. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2000s</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
becomes a partner seminary of the Metropolitan Community Churches, and launches
a Doctor of Ministry program for Asiamerican Ministries.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2005</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Weston Jesuit School of
Theology</span> announces merger with <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Boston
College</span> and relocation to the BC campus, ending nearly 40 years of
ecumenical collaboration on the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Divinity School</span> campus. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2007</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
launches its innovative Distributive Learning Program, allowing students to
pursue degrees in a low-residency model. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2008</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
announces campus partnership agreement with <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Lesley
University</span>. EDS sells Lawrence,
Winthrop, and Washburn Halls to Lesley, as well as 101 Brattle Street. The
Library becomes shared property in a condo arrangement. EDS’s endowment grows
as a result from a low of $35 million to $73 million.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2008</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Bishop Steven Charleston resigns as President and Dean of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>. He is
succeeded in 2009 by the Rev. Katherine Hancock Ragsdale (EDS D.Min., ’98).
Ragsdale is the first openly gay or lesbian dean of an Episcopal seminary. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2009</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia Theological
Seminary</span> launches its “Second Three Years” mentorship program for recent
alumni/ae, providing continuing education for VTS graduates in their first
several years following seminary and ordination. All the expenses of this
program are met by the Seminary.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2009</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Seabury Western Theological
Seminary</span>, facing a decreasing endowment, closes its Master of Divinity
program and decides to sell its campus to Northwestern University and relocates
to the headquarters of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. It continues
to offer low-residency certificate and Doctor of Ministry programs. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2010</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Virginia Theological
Seminary’s</span> historic Immanuel Chapel (consecrated in 1881) burns to the
ground. A new chapel is built and consecrated in 2015. Dignitaries present at the consecration included Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori, former Presiding Bishop Frank Griswold, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2012</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—The GENERAL THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY initiates a plan to "Choose Life," which includes the sale of a hotel built into its Desmond Tutu Conference Center, as well as other buildings in its complex. The sale enabled the seminary to retire $40 million in debt and strengthen its struggling endowment. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2013</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley Hall</span> - <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Seabury Western Theological Seminary
Federation</span> established, combining boards of trustees and faculties over
two campuses in Columbus and Chicago. Master of Divinity programs are offered
in Columbus and Doctor of Ministry and certificates in Chicago.</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;">2013</b><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">—SEMINARY OF THE SOUTHWEST appoints the Rev. Dr. Cynthia Briggs Kittredge as its eighth dean and president. She is the third woman called to lead a Episcopal seminary.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2013</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—The Board of Trustees of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal
Divinity School</span> voted to suspend any future tenure-track appointments or
awards of tenure until deeper conversations about the future shape and mission
of the school could be undertaken. The vote led to significant conflict between
the faculty and the Board and President and Dean. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2014</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—Eight (of eleven) members of the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">General
Theological Seminary </span>faculty strike over conflicts with the dean. The
Board of Trustees considers the strike a resignation. Many are eventually
reinstated for the remainder of the academic year, but do not continue on the
faculty long-term.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2015</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
President and Dean Katherine Ragsdale resigns after a period of conflict. She
is succeeded as interim president and dean by the Rev. Frank Fornaro (EDS ’96).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2016</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley-Seabury Seminary
Federation</span> consolidates and relocates to the campus of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Chicago Theological Seminary</span>, offering
low-residency theological education. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2015-2016</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity School</span>
Trustees establish a Future Visions Task Force to envision a sustainable future
for the School, following several years of declining enrolments and deficit
spending. The Trustees vote on July 21, 2016 to cease degree granting
operations in 2017, while considering future partnerships. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span lang="EN-CA">2016</span></b><span lang="EN-CA">—The Rev. Dr. William Nelsen, a Lutheran pastor, appointed as
Interim President of <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Episcopal Divinity
School</span> during transition year. Teach out program is announced for
continuing students, with Distributive Learning students to be taught by <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Bexley-Seabury</span> in Chicago and
traditional learning students at the <span style="text-transform: uppercase;">Boston
University School of Theology</span>.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>©</b></span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</b></span><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-466575126586842342.post-28447454914043058112016-11-09T10:01:00.002-08:002016-11-09T12:32:10.779-08:00A Pastoral Message after an Election<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dear friends,</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Every election brings joy to some and
disappointment to others--whether election to the library board or to the
presidency of the United States. If our preferred candidate loses, elections of
the greatest consequence also bring out fear that our worldview and most deeply
held beliefs may somehow be challenged or defeated. Our Christian faith
tradition reminds us, however, that new and abundant life grows even in the
midst of fear and despair. Our faith reminds us, in fact it compels us to believe,
that love is more powerful than hate, that hope is greater than fear, and that
life is stronger than death. Always.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Within our Emmanuel family there are some
who were hopeful for a Donald Trump victory, and others who were equally
hopeful that Hillary Clinton would come out on top. Many, if not most, of us
were disgusted by the campaign that unfolded in front of our eyes, by the
accusations and insults, by the way that it brought out the worst in us as
individuals and as an American community—racism, sexism, classism, and
xenophobia to name just a few issues of concern. Thankfully, the ugliness of
the campaign is now over. We can hope that the rhetoric reflected more the heat
of the moment than the true character of those involved. For our own well being
as a nation we must hope that.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I'll be honest and share that the final
result is not the one for which I had hoped. And as of this writing, Hillary
Clinton is leading in the popular vote count by over 235,000 votes. So, we are
a nation deeply divided indeed, reflected in different electoral college and
popular vote outcomes, with more of our citizens voting for the candidate who will not become president. But the system is what it is. We have survived the same disparity before, difficult as it was to accept for many. I believe that beyond
the most extreme supporters on the fringes, those who voted yesterday reflect the hopes and dreams of the American people.
They are people in need of a better job, better health care, safer communities,
and fuller access to the American dream. This is equally true of Trump
and Clinton supporters. Of course, the preferred political and philosophical means for
achieving those ends are different. But, we all long for full and abundant
life--whatever our race, gender, sexual orientation, economic situation, or
political philosophy. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One of signal characteristics of our
Emmanuel Episcopal Church community is the ability to come together, even when we disagree. Our
parish community includes Democrats, Republicans, and independents, people with
differing beliefs and backgrounds who are friends and family, who work and
volunteer together, and who pray, sing, and receive the sacrament side by side.
We are people who love and cherish each other, not because of our political
beliefs, or even in spite of them, but instead because we know that we are
drawn together by God, as God's beloved and cherished people. That is who we
are, and why we are.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In my "Focus on Faith" column in
the <i>Wakefield Daily Item</i> a few weeks ago I wrote that we <i>can</i> live
together when we disagree, and even that we <i>should</i> live together when we
disagree, so that we can begin to understand each other--both the greatest joys
and the deepest concerns of our hearts. When we do that, we have the power to
overcome suspicion, fear and mistrust. When we do that, we have the power to
live the resurrection. That is my hope and prayer now that the election is
over--that we will grow closer together and that we will incarnate the
resurrection and manifest God's love to each other, to our friends and family,
and to the world. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I also wrote in that “Focus on Faith”
column that it will not be up to the political candidates to heal the deep and
profound divisions in our society--at least not alone, though certainly they
have a role to play. Really, it is up to us. For we are Christ's body in the
world. We are Christ’s hands and feet. We are Christ’s heart and love. It is a
love that casts out fear and offers glimpses of radiant light and enduring hope. This
calling, to be Christ’s presence, is as real and true for those who feel
victorious after the election as it is those who feel concern and even despair, wondering what the future holds.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I want to close this message by saying, yet
again, how much our community means to me. How much you mean to me, my friends
and family in faith. We have the power to hold each other up, to comfort each
others' fears and anxieties, and really and truly to be the love of God for
each other. In the days ahead, I invite and encourage you to share that love with those who need it, and also receive that love yourself. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here is a prayer that I offered at our
candlelight Evening Prayer and Vigil service on Monday night. I think it is
even more appropriate today. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Almighty God, from whom cometh every good
and perfect gift: Send down, we beseech thee, upon all those who hold office in
this land the spirit of justice and integrity, of wisdom and charity; that
seeking their own good in the well-being of those committed to their charge,
they may ever advance thy kingdom upon earth and promote the welfare of thy
people. This we pray through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.</i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blessings,</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Matthew+</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Revd Matthew P. Cadwell, PhD</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Emmanuel Episcopal Church</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">5 Bryant Street</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wakefield, MA 01880</span></div>
Vicar of the Old Northhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17100358399968493082noreply@blogger.com0