Ready or not

Hi, all!

I'm not sure I'm quite ready for Christmas. This time of year is hectic, because there are so many things to do. Parties, presents, house guests, travel, decorations...and on and on. It's a wonderful time of year, but it seems like it's impossible to do everything we want.

I'm not sure I'm ready for Christmas Eve, either. The sermon is done, the bulletins are printed, the music is ready, people are scheduled...but am I ready? Am I spiritually ready to celebrate the birth of Christ?

The truth is, I'm not really ready. I'm still fussing with last minute details, things I forgot to do, things I'd like to do. But when I think about it, I probably never will be really ready. There's always something more to be done.

The good news is that God didn't wait for the world to be ready when he came as a child in a manger. God didn't wait until every heart prepared him room. He didn't wait until all the conditions were right. He came when he was needed, at just the right time.

This poem from Madeleine L'Engle reminds us to rejoice that God is coming whether we're ready or not. Wherever you are tonight, I wish you a holy night, the night of the Savior's birth.

First Coming
by Madeleine L'Engle

He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine.

He did not wait till hearts were pure.
In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!

Bill  

Happy Thanksgiving Day!

Hi, all!

Today is Thanksgiving Day, and our house has extra guests...our older son and his friend, our younger son and his girlfriend. As I sat in my chair saying my prayers this morning, I felt a sense of wholeness and warmth. We're all here together.

We'll have a big dinner this afternoon with all the trimmings, including non-gluten and vegetarian options, and afterwards we'll take a walk to work off some of those calories. I hope you and yours are also gathered to celebrate today, and I hope you'll take some time to reflect on the good things God has given you. Practice gratitude.

I'm especially thankful for those who labored to bring us our food, for those who stand by to protect us and keep our electricity on, for the good earth and the peaceful animals that gave us our food. God is generous.

As the General Thanksgiving says on p. 101 of the Prayer Book:
"We bless you for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life; but above all for your immeasurable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory."

Even though there's a warm glow around the image of Thanksgiving Day, I'm aware this morning of all those who don't find this a happy day: those whose families are absent or broken by strife, those who are alone or grieving lost ones, those who have to work even on a holiday (especially the early Black Friday), those who don't have a warm, dry home to shelter them, and Native Americans who may find this day a painful historical memory. This awareness keeps my gratitude humble.

Keeping all this in mind,
May God bless you this day with deep gratitude of the soul.
May you savor the food in your mouth and taste the goodness of God.
And may you sense the profound presence of those around you.

Bill

For all the Saints

Hi, all! This week I'm visiting my family in Colorado. I've been going through old photo albums at my mother's house, scanning some of the photos into the computer so I can have access to them online. As I leaf through those old albums, memories from years ago come rushing back. There are fading color photos from my childhood and old black-and-white photos from generations past. I peer at the faces of my ancestors and imagine what life was like for them. The photos are like little time machines. I think of how all these lives influenced my life directly or indirectly. These are the saints of my life, the ones who have made me who I am. I especially think of my dad who died in 1973. Yesterday I visited his grave at Ft. Lyon National Cemetery near here, and memories came flooding back. This Sunday we celebrate All Saints' Day (transferred from November 1), and we'll name those who are the saints in our lives. I've added my dad's name to the list, and even though I won't be at church, it's good to know his name will be lifted up. Who are the saints in your life? On All Saints' Day, it's a good time to remember those who have influenced us - parents, aunts and uncles, coaches, teachers, mentors, friends, and role models. We are part of a long procession of the saints of God, and all of us together make a long, joyous parade as we wind our way to heaven. Bill

Listening to the children

Hi, all!
Tomorrow is the Children's Eucharist at the 10:00 service. I'm looking forward to seeing our young people serving as ushers, greeters, Eucharistic Minister (Chelsea Reeder), and even preacher (Bonnie Foley)!

We have such wonderful young people in our church, and they bring such energy, optimism, and joy to all of us. I feel truly blessed to have them in our parish.
Tomorrow they will serve as ministers in worship, and we'll invite them to gather around the altar for the consecration of the bread and wine. They love this because they're near the holy mysteries. This way they can see and hear what's going on at the altar.
Children instinctively understand about God. It's natural for young children to ask about God, and it's natural for them to want to receive Communion. They "get it" that this is food from God, and we're God's family gathered around God's table.

When we have Children's Eucharist, they learn about God, and we learn about God through them. They teach us. As Jesus said, "Unless you become like a little child, you cannot enter the kingdom of God."
I'm looking forward to learning from them. I hope you are, too!
Bill

The gathering of the tribe

Hi, all!

I just got back from Diocesan Convention, held at the Lynnwood Convention Center in North Seattle. It was a well-run convention, and the business of the Diocese was duly attended to.

The part I like best about Convention is seeing friends from other parishes. Having been involved in the clergy association and various diocesan events, I've made friends throughout the diocese and I always enjoy seeing them.

I think of the diocesan convention as "the gathering of the tribe." In earlier days, Native American tribes were composed of family groups that might separate to travel widely during the year looking for good hunting and fishing. Then in the fall they'd come together for a time of sharing, eating, dancing, and contests of skill. Young people would look for mates, and old friends would remember times past.

That's what it feels like at diocesan convention. Our diocese is a tribe composed of many parishes and groups, and we usually do our ministries separately. But once a year we come together to re-connect and to share with each other.

I'm grateful for our delegates, Bill Demmon and Maggie Scott, and our alternates, Ken Stephens and Tovi Andrews, who took the time to attend convention, and I hope they got a feel for the depth and breadth of our diocese and enjoyed it as much as I did.

Bill  

Hi, all!

Columbus Day landed on Wednesday this week, and Bishop Greg asked us to reflect on the "Doctrine of Discovery". The doctrine of discovery was the policy of European nations to claim full ownership of the lands occupied by their settlers in the Americas. It was used to justify the removal and genocide of the people who already lived there, namely Native Americans.

I think most of us feel some regret about the treatment of Native Americans in our country. We recognize the tragic losses they suffered when European settlers came.

I have some family heritage on my mother's side in this matter. My great-grandfather, Thomas Lawrence Riggs, was a missionary to the Lakota (Sioux) people in South Dakota. In 1872 he established a mission near Pierre, and eventually founded a number of mission churches along the Missouri River, as well as an Indian boarding school.

One of the great tragedies of mission work among Native Americans was the requirement that their children move to church boarding schools, where they were forced to speak in English and they lost their culture and traditions. The church brought them the Gospel of Christ, but also forced western culture on them. The loss of native pride and identity brought a terrible social price: alcoholism, suicide, and disintegration.

My great-grandfather spoke the Lakota language with great fluency, and the family lore is that he was accepted by them as one of their own. The children in the Indian school were taught in the Lakota tongue until government policies forced the school to teach them in English. My great-grandfather devoted his whole life to the Lakota people, and he I'm sure he didn't intend to cause any harm. And yet, there were unintended consequences to the missionary work he did.

So I have some ambivalence about my family heritage in South Dakota. On the one hand, I'm proud of the work my great-grandfather did and the sacrifices he made. On the other hand, I wonder about those unintended consequences.

I'm planning to go to South Dakota in November to attend a workshop by the Episcopal Diocese of South Dakota on Lakota culture and history. I want to learn more about the Lakota people and the role of the church in their lives. Maybe I'll get a clearer picture of the role of missionaries in South Dakota and perhaps find a way I can contribute to the church work there. I wonder if there might be some way we as a parish might partner with a Native American congregation in South Dakota. Who knows?

Bill  

May the circle be unbroken

Hi, all!

I spent some time last week searching for the ghosts of my past. My grandmother's family on my father's side were plantation owners in Louisiana in the 1800's, and since I was in the area for my CREDO conference, I took an extra day to rent a car and drive to the site of the old plantation.

I've always been fascinated by this part of my family history. The Bowman family came down the Natchez Trace from South Carolina around 1810 and established Alphenia Plantation near Clayton, Louisiana. I've read about the plantation and always wanted to visit the site.

My brother, the family genealogist, sent me the Google Earth coordinates so I had no problem finding the site. No buildings exist, but there's a huge old oak tree and three ancient Indian mounds that mark the site of the old plantation. 

It was late afternoon when I parked the rental car in a recently harvested cotton field and climbed the mound nearest the Tensas River. Among the trees and brush I found the gravestones of Sarah Caroline Bowman and her four children, who died within a month of each other in a fever epidemic in 1852. I traced their names on a large marble base and a tall obelisk that had toppled to the ground. 

Standing there where my ancestors lived and died was a powerful experience for me. I said a prayer for those who had gone before me, remembering them to God. 

But I wasn't finished. I pushed through the brush and climbed the mound furthest from the river. This was the mound where the slaves of the plantation were buried. It's strange how the ghosts of the past haunt us today. Slavery was an evil institution, and its effects still linger today. 

As I stood there, I wondered what it was like for the slaves 160 years ago. I said a prayer for those who were buried there and for their descendants, and I asked God for forgiveness.

I don't know what difference it made that I visited the site of the old plantation. But it was something I needed to do for myself, and I realized as I walked back to the rental car that this place is sacred ground for me. In some sense, I feel I completed the circle. I'm glad I went.  

Bill