MoAmy+

My God, My God

My friend and a member of our young adult community, Stephen, died last week.  I preached at the funeral.  Stephen and his wife both chose John 11:21-27 for the Gospel, that wonderful text that demonstrates how deep faith and deep longing exist simultaneously in our lives, especially when we're in the midst of terrible pain. Below is the text of my sermon.  Much of it echoes William Sloane Coffin's eloquent sermon following his own son's death at 27.  

May Stephen, and the souls of all the departed, rest in peace through the mercy of God. +

Sermon text

Religious stats of the Incoming Class, Pt. I

Each summer, the staff & students of the University of Louisville Interfaith Center host milkshake nights during the orientation sessions for incoming freshmen.  Their "SOS-ers" bring them by and we play music, games, make a whole bunch of delicious milkshakes for free, and ask them to fill out short info cards, which are entered into a drawing for various prizes to be given out at the beginning of the Fall semester.  

The info cards ask for basic contact info, and then asks the student to rank the importance of spirituality in their life on a scale of 1 (lowest) to 5 (highest).  We then list 8 denominational/faith identities and ask them to indicate their preference.  The categories (based on the groups renting space from the Interfaith Center) are: Episcopalian, Jewish, Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Catholic.  We also list "other" with a blank for filling in other options.  A couple of years ago we added the 8th category: "Spiritual but Not Religious" (SBnR).

As a city, Louisville is largely Roman Catholic & Southern Baptist.  We're also home to a very large 'non-denominational' megachurch, so those categories are always the largest.  Those choosing SbNR, however, have become very large in the years since we added that option, easily rivaling those traditional identities.

Tonight was session 2 of orientation and I'm always eager to get the names of Episcopalians who have landed on campus, so I started going through the cards. I also decided to get a jump start on the profile of the incoming class.  (Thanks to new alum Will for helping me out!)

Here we are after Session 2 (total of 229):

Religious Preference:

[these groups are listed by name]

Episcopalian: 2 (.9%)

Jewish: 0  (0)

Methodist: 11  (5%)

Lutheran: 2  (.9%)

Presbyterian: 5  (2%)

SbNR: 14 (6%)

Catholic: 108  (47%)

[these are the write ins]

Other (no other info): 3 (1%)

Other (Atheism): 3 (1%)

Other (UCC): 1  (.4%)

Other (Baptist): 32 (14%)

Other (Non-Denom): 4 (1.7%)

Other (Christian): 11 (5%)

Other (Agnostic): 2  (.9%)

Other (Christianity): 1  (.4%)

Other (Not Religious): 1  (.4%)

Other (Jedi): 1  (.4%)

Other (Sthn. Baptist): 1  (.4%)

Other (Protestant): 3  (1%)

Other (Pentacostal): 1  (.4%)

Other (Catholic-ish): 1  (.4%)

Other (UU): 1  (.4%)

Other (openly Christian): 1  (.4%)

Other (Disciples of Christ): 2  (1%)

Other (Church of Christ): 1  (.4%)

Other (Church of God): 1  (.4%)

Other (Dark Romanticist Christian): 1  (.4%)

N/A: 1  (.4%)

(No indication): 14  (6%)

Level of Importance:

Avg: 3.7

0:  7 (3%)  

1: 10 (4%)

2: 16 (7%)

3: 57 (25%)

4: 62 (27%)

5: 73 (32%)

(4 people added in more precise levels: 3.5: 3 (1%); 4.5: 1 (.4%))

So what?

Well, maybe nothing.  But if the SBnR number stays that low, it would be a significant shift downward.   As the sample grows over the summer, we'll see what the numbers bear out.  It's very possible it's skewed by the demographics of who attends the early sessions.  Students get to request (by preference) which orientation sessions to attend, and Honor students get to choose first.  In Louisville, our Catholic high schools produce high-achieving students, so the staff is guessing we've seen proportionally a few more Catholics in the initial sessions than we will during the rest of the summer.  Of course, lots of factors could produce a correlation between high institutional academic achievement and religious preference.  We'll keep watching it!

Also, the person who wrote "ish" next to Catholic is my favorite so far.  "Jedi" is too easy.  We usually get a few clever students who turn in entertaining cards each year, which, being church geeks, we greatly enjoy.

DWELL / Life with God : Register Now!

DWELL : a week of community, prayer, and questions for college & 20s

May 23-27th at Christ Church Cathedral, Louisville

See registration info below 

Download Dwell schedule

Register Online! or email MoAmy.

 

Generation to Generation

The Diocese of Kentucky will meet in convention this weekend.  Saturday morning there will be a panel of young adults (and me <g>) offering a sort of 'word to the church.'  KY will be electing a new bishop in June and I'm guessing not too many of the deputies will be Millenials*, so the bishop thought it wise for the deputies to have a chance to hear from some YA's.  

YAs are different than you think, especially if you're used to dealing with people like me: Gen Xers.  

Here are the basic questions:

• What do you most cherish and value about your Episcopal identity?

• What do you find yourself wishing the church would do more effectively? [for Clergy] What's frustrating in your ministry?

• Has the Church asked enough of you? What's the most important thing the         Church has asked of you? Where have you seen your gifts used?

*Actually, there will be youth deputies with vote seated at the electing convention, just like in 1993.  How do I remember that, you ask?  I was one of them!  Yay for church geeks!  And +Ted was totally our candidate.

Let's do it: Church Geek Merit Badges.

Today, (Via @LaughingSquid) Nerd Merit Badges revealed the prototypes for their IRL foursquare badges.  Love it, even though I'm not into foursquare.  It reminded me of 'Science Scouts' and whilst re-visiting that site, I was delighted to find that in November, they released this merit badge, pictured at left:

The "That's Right People I'm An Artist But I Do Scienc-y Art And It's Cool" Badge.  Yay.  

Made me think that surely we need Church Geek Merit Badges, don't we?  Don't we?!

Please submit your ideas.  Please?

Epiphany 3C 2010

A parishioner needed medical attention just before I delivered my sermon this morning.  In the transition, I was not able to set up the mp3 recorder correctly, so you have below a sort of a paraphrase of my extemporaneous sermon. 

[A brief prayer was given for both John's health and in thanksgiving for the parts of our cathedral body who are medical professionals and are ready to offer their gifts in the service of their brother in need.]

Over 40 years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr. preached his last Sunday sermon.  It was in an Episcopal church--in the pulpit of the National Cathedral.  While his biblical text was different than that for today, much of his address spoke to the need for--and power of--unity.  He said:

Through our scientific and technological genius, we have made of this world a neighborhood and yet we have not had the ethical commitment to make of it a brotherhood. But somehow, and in some way, we have got to do this. We must all learn to live together as brothers or we will all perish together as fools. We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the way God’s universe is made; this is the way it is structured.

Paul talks about that same kind of mutuality--about our inescapable interconnectedness in Christ.  Our common life is not a choice, it's reality.  Seeing ourselves transformed from lives of individuals divided by difference into a single body united in hope is at the core of our identity as Christians.

The Dean has challenged us each Sunday since the earthquake struck Haiti to give sacrificially to provide relief to our brothers and sisters whose lives and country have been devastated.  We may understand our connectedness in a philosophical or intellectual way, but Paul challenges us to actually live out this unity, to live as though our lives are not separated from the lives of others.  

A couple of summers ago, I was at Kanuga for a meeting.  I wanted to go for a brief hike and another Episcopalian--concerned about sunburns and ticks--gave me a hat to wear.  It was a sort of faded olive colored hat with a grayish brim.  An Episcopal shield was embroidered on the front.  They insisted that I keep it so I could use it the rest of the week.  I don't wear it very often, but the hat always reminds me of their friendship and of their concern for me.  It's a simple symbol of the wonderful fellowship I share with all of my fellow Episcopalians, scattered across 19 countries.

This week the Wall Street Journal published an interview with Jean Zache Duracin, the Episcopal Bishop of Haiti.  His diocese is the largest in the Episcopal Church.  Bishop Duracin's home was destroyed, his wife was injured, and he lived through the initial fear that his children had died.  Refusing to be evacuated, Bishop Duracin and others are overseeing a tent village, rationing supplies scavenged from the cafeteria of a parish school.  

In the WSJ's video interview, Bishop Duracin is wearing that same olive hat with that same embroidered Episcopal shield as the one I was given at Kanuga.  I was moved at the sight of such a tangible sign of our connectedness.  In the written story, published January 21st, he reports on the rationing of those supplies from the cafeteria:

"The stock is starting to deplete," said [Bishop]. Duracin, whose flock is now spread on the soccer field under tents and tarps. "We have only enough for perhaps another day or two."

That was three days ago.  

These are our brothers, our sisters, we often say.  Paul tells us they are closer than that--they are members of our very own body.  We are a hand, they are a leg; we are muscle; they are bone.  In just a few minutes, we'll pray that God will makes us all into that one body.

It's a lot to bear--parts of our own body buried under rubble; parts of our body starving before our eyes.  We can feel helpless and overwhelmed. We can lose sight of their humanity and begin to hold them only as an intellectual problem.  We can resent having to care for an injured limb when it seems it would be easier just to amputate.  But, following this sermon, we'll recite the creed together.  We'll proclaim together the line that reads 'We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of Life.'  We'll proclaim that not only are we empowered by the Holy Spirit, but the Holy Spirit gives us our very life.  That gift of an entangled life is not a burden, but the very essence of life.    

In today's gospel Jesus reads from the scroll of Isaiah, telling us he's the anointed one, the one sent to deliver God's good news to the poor.  We too are anointed--sealed in baptism by the power of the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ's own, forever.  We gather here week after week, dipping our fingers in the blessed water of baptism and gathering around the table, putting our hand out for a bite of the Body.  We leave here, not as individuals, but as members of the same body, unified in the name of Christ, enlivened by the Holy Spirit, sent to proclaim God's good news to the poor.  This, Martin Luther King reminds us, is the way God’s universe is made; this is the way it is structured.

Amen.

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And then there were four...white guys.

[I'd encourage to read this entire post, and my additions in the comments! -MoAmy+] 

Following the announcement of the candidates for Bishop of Kentucky, I've been asked the question about the lack of diversity of the slate: all male, all white.  When the slate was presented, it was noted that the committee was very aware of a desire for diversity as they worked their way through the process.

Most of the questions have been wondering why there are no women on the list.  I remember how strange it felt that there were no women bishops when Province IV gathered in synod.  I mean it is 2010. Throughout the search process, friends have asked if Kentucky would be open to electing a woman.  I certainly believe we are.  I was not on the SNC, so I can't speak to their (confidential) deliberations, but I can share my impressions of the diocese. 

In my experience hearing the stories of women clergy in other places, particularly those working in Province IV, I believe Kentucky does pretty well supporting its female clergy. Women clergy everywhere have to watch the system and monitor issues like equal access, equitable pay, and fair solutions to some new situations (think maternity leave!), as well as a sort of unintentional-but-persistent use of the old boys' network, but I think on the whole Kentucky is a fair-minded place.  We have some amazing women whose leadership in the diocese is well-respected and valued.  

Bishop search committees need to be careful not to enact a blanket 'you have to have 10 years as rector at a program size church' criterion without considering the reality of the recentness of women's ordination and various levels of acceptance and integration of that practice.  Their discernment should be about listening for the Holy Spirit to match candidates' gifts with dioceses' needs, aware that many aspects of candidates' lives may be affected by gender bias present in the system.  I expressed to some members of the SNC my concern that what seems like objective criteria are not always quite as objective when more closely examined. [ed note: I meant to say that I expressed that concern before they ever began discussing candidates, just as a general caveat when comparing men vs. women candidates.]

Maybe not that many women wanted their names to go forward for Bishop of Kentucky.  Most people don't realize how awesome it is here.  Most people haven't heard that Louisville is the best city in the country.  Maybe our tobacco-bourbon-basketball-racing in the middle of a sea of Roman Catholics and Southern Baptists makes them think we're not as welcoming of women's leadership as we are.  Maybe they don't know that the first female Dean of the Anglican Communion was the Dean of our very own cathedral. 

I also imagine that some of this is still just numbers. I haven't done the math, but I'm guessing the Episcopal Church is still waiting for the full wave of what is now a generation of ordained women to crest at the doors of episcopal search committees.  

Speaking of numbers, just to put some meat on my 'impressions,' note that (at least by the count in my head) 18 women are active on parish or institution staffs within the bounds of the diocese, with many more canonically resident in the diocese and serving as supply here or working elsewhere. (Compared to about 28 men in those same positions.)  It took a while for women's ordination to really take hold here, but recent ordination trends certainly reflect a gender-balanced diocese.

It also occurs to me that having a slate of only four after receiving nearly 80 names initially means the SNC must feel pretty strongly about these candidates.  I have been in this diocese my entire life and I know many of the SNC.  I deeply trust the faithfulness of their work.  I thank God for their service.

The lack of ethnic and racial diversity is certainly not limited to the search process.  It reflects our continued sin of segregation both in the church and society.  I pray that Christ will work in our common life to open our eyes and convert our hearts so that we might fearlessly love our neighbors as ourselves.

I am excited about the candidates on our slate.  Hearing the care and enthusiasm with which the SNC presented their names to the Standing Committee gave me a deep respect for their mutual discernment. I look forward to getting to know them better!  

Prayers for all of our candidates, for their families, for their current ministries, and for our deputies' discernment.

Candidates for 8th Bishop of Kentucky

The Search/Nominating Committee has presented the Standing Committee of the Diocese with a list of candidates for Bishop of the Diocese of Kentucky.  The candidates are:

 The Rev. David Boyd, Rector of St. David's Episcopal Church in Austin, TX. His bio on the parish website is here.

 The Very Rev. John Downey, Dean of the Cathedral of St. Paul in Erie, Pennsylvania. His bio on the Cathedral website is here.

 The Very Rev. Nicholas Knisely, Dean of Trinity Cathedral in Phoenix, AZ.  His bio on the Cathedral's website is here.  His blog profile is here.  

The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean of Grace & Holy Trinity Cathedral in Kansas City, MO.  G&HT's About page is here.

Candidates will visit the diocese for 'walk-abouts' in mid-May. The election will take place on June 5, 2010 at Christ Church Cathedral.  

Learn more about the Search for our next bishop here.

A Prayer for Guidance
Almighty God, giver of every good gift: Look graciously on your Church, and so guide the minds of those who shall choose a bishop for this Diocese that we may receive a faithful pastor, who will care for your people and equip us for our ministries; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
                                                                                -The Book of Common Prayer, page 818

Dilbert on Art

LOL. Thanks to Mark+ for passing this along...

Moments of silence

Twice Sunday there were moments of silence in the Cathedral.  

First, during the prayers of the people, we were called to a long silence during which we were to hold our Haitian brothers and sisters up before God.  During the second, we remembered murder victims in the city of Louisville after hearing the Cathedral bells toll for the dead. These moments of silence were offered as a prayerful space in which to absorb the pain of our neighbors, near and far, and to unite our intentions in a moment of intercession on behalf of their suffering.  Silence can be hard.  We don't always know what to do with it.  Sometimes we want to hear something and it just doesn't emerge.  Sometimes we can't quiet our thoughts long enough to engage the restfulness silence promises. Sometimes silence too quickly exposes the pained cries of our own heart.  

This day, however, there was not really silence. Both of these prayer-filled pauses were also filled with the sound of running water. 

The running water of the baptismal font is always in the background of our life together at the Cathedral.  It greets each person that enters our doors.  Its water flows continuously, pouring into the octagonal pool below, reminding the baptized of their new life in Christ and welcoming the stranger into the family of God.  It proclaims to those who dip their fingers in it that our imagined separation from God and our neighbors has been washed away in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and that even death no longer has power over us.  "Nothing," it preaches, "can ever come between us and the love of God."

And so a moment which could have simply memorialized the power of sadness and loss was filled instead with a reminder of our unending life in the God who is living water for all who thirst.  Thanks be to God.