O Key of David... come

[This post is fourth in a series of Advent meditations, exploring the "O Antiphon" for each day as we walk the final steps toward the celebration of the incarnation on the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord.]

Come,

Key of David,
opening the gates
of God's eternal kingdom:
free the prisoners of darkness! 

I'm horrible with keys. I'm always misplacing them, setting them down one place and then having to struggle to remember where in the world I left them. I leave them in doors, on tables, in pockets, I'm pretty horrible with them.

"O Key"
Sister Ansgar Holmberg, CSJ

But I've gotten better—primarily by training myself, like others, to always set them down in the same places.

So now, when I cannot find my keys, I look first in my coat pocket. Then, if I'm at home, I check the dish on the sideboard in the dining room. If I'm at work, I check my desk (or, if Cappy is with me, I check my office door, because I use them to get in and out of a door that automatically locks).

When you get your first set of keys to something, it feels rather magical. Or, at least it did to me. Finally now I am trusted with access to a place, access all on my own without someone else there to let me in. One of the fundamental symbols of ministry in the installation of a rector is the giving over of the keys of the church.

One of the best canticles in Morning Prayer, in my opinion, is Canticle 11: The Third Song of Isaiah (Surge, illuminare). The canticle is a song of joyful singing over the new Jerusalem, drawing from the exuberance of the final chapters of Isaiah. One of the lines in the canticle sings, "Your gates will be open; by day or night they will never be shut."And that's not just in some crazy liberal canticle, it's right there in the eleventh verse of chapter sixty!

The gates of the new Jerusalem will never be shut.

It's almost like when Jesus took on our sinfulness, he also took on the way I lose keys, like he took the keys to the gates of heaven and tossed them out the window, never to use them again.

The gates of our city are never locked.

And the one key in the afterlife that he holds on to is this: the key to the misery and prisons into which we place ourselves. We will never again need to be prisoners of darkness, scrambling for keys to get us out of the prisons we create for ourselves... he's got that key clasped tightly in his hand, ready to open that gate up and welcome you to a home where he busted the locks off the door long ago.

And I wonder, beloved of God, what doors and prisons do you long for God to open in your heart and in your life? What gates do you long to see Christ trample down? And do you see, oh beloved, do you see... the gate to our home is wide open.

O come, thou Key of David, come,
and open wide our heavenly home;
make safe the way that leads on high,
and close the path to misery.

O Root of Jesse... come

[This post is third in a series of Advent meditations, exploring the "O Antiphon" for each day as we walk the final steps toward the celebration of the incarnation on the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord.]

Come,

Flower of Jesse's Stem,
sign of God's love for all his people:
save us without delay 

Have you ever seen a tree freshly chopped down, the stump fresh and moist with sap that was running only a moment before? It smells like life and death all together at once.

"O Root"
Sister Ansgar Holmberg, CSJ

Or, perhaps, have you ever seen a very old stump, one that is all the remains from a tree that was chopped down or fell down years and years go? It is often covered with moss but sometimes growing out of it you can see a shoot, as though the tree refused to believe that it is dead and insists that life will continue no matter its condition.

A think that a shoot coming out of a stump is one of the most rebellious things in all of nature.

Two years in a row, I was sitting in my living room on Christmas morning when my wife and I got a phone call that someone we loved had died. Two years in a row. It changes how you see Christmas.

And though I'm only in my early thirties, I've already had experiences of really shaking my fist at death, at longing for victory over that grave, not just the sort you sing about but the sort you see... the sort where people you miss are suddenly with you once more, as everyone laughs at a death that is not nearly as powerful as it pretends to be.

I think that this antiphon is God's people sticking up a big middle finger at all the things that seem to destroy us, that seem to destroy those we love. I think this antiphon is God's people longing for God's power to come so that they can final tell of that menace of death... so that they don't have to say goodbye once more.

Because every year I'm a priest I find funerals to be a more emotional part of my ministry. Every year I grow closer to my parishioners and letting them go because that much harder.

So I gotta trust, I gotta believe, that what my people tell me is true: life is changed not ended. I gotta believe that there will come a day when I'll finally slip my hand inside that of each person I love who has slipped away and whisper a tearful hello.

And I wonder, beloved of God, who comes to your mind in these final days of Advent, as the feast of the Nativity approaches? When you consider Satan's tyranny finally being overthrown, when you contemplate the tantalizing promise of victory over even the grave, that no relationship we have will ever be fully destroyed that all will be redeemed... when you consider this Advent truth, who comes to your mind?

I hope you'll introduce me to them when we all meet on the other side of the Jordan. I think we'd get along grand.

O come, thou Branch of Jesse's tree,
free them from Satan's tyranny
that trust thy mighty power to save, 
and give them victory o'er the grave.

O Adonai... come

[This post is second in a series of Advent meditations, exploring the "O Antiphon" for each day as we walk the final steps toward the celebration of the incarnation on the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord.]

Come,

Leader of Ancient Israel

giver of the Law to Moses on Sinai:

rescue us with your mighty power! 

A lot of my upbringing involved arguing with people about the law. I was raised in a protestant tradition that believed we were saved by grace through faith... but that also believed Christians were supposed to think and act and believe a certain way. We'd argue with the Baptists all the time about how you were saved by grace, but you still had to do things to be a good Christian.

"O Adonai"
Sister Ansgar Holmberg, CSJ

When I got to college and began studying this whole law thing, I discovered that Christians have been trying to figure this out for quite a while. That made me feel better that I didn't know exactly how to parse it. Perhaps the most important thing I learned in that whole undergraduate degree in Biblical Studies, though, was this—people in the times of the Hebrew Bible were also saved by grace.

Of course, Paul himself makes this exact argument, insisting that Abraham was saved by faith.. but then James has to go and make the opposite argument, kind of screwing the whole thing up a bit for anyone who thinks the Bible alone can answer all questions. So I never really knew who to believe.

But in freshman Old Testament survey, the professor had us memorize Joel 2:12-13. It was one of several texts he told us to memorize, but I think he had us do this one so we'd have a go to answer to anyone who said the God of the Old Testament was a God of anger.

“Yet even now,” declares the Lord,
“Return to Me with all your heart,
And with fasting, weeping and mourning;
And rend your heart and not your garments.”
Now return to the Lord your God,
For He is gracious and compassionate,
Slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness
And relenting of evil.

That phrase, "slow to anger" is all over the place in the Hebrew Bible. There's law, make no mistake, but the law was never intended to give full life. The law was intended to give us a shape for what it meant to live as God's people in a certain time. There are, as much as some people want to deny it, things God's people are called to do and think and say and believe... the trick is pulling the actual law of God for today apart from one particular culture or people's understanding of that law.

That's what we've gotta try for, to let go of the laws we want to create and to open ourselves to the law God wants to offer us—because the law God offers is one that will heal relationships, one that will enable us to live as God's love in this world.

And if you've ever been pissed off by some religious person who thought they had the law down pat, and who used it to beat you over the head, then I think this antiphon is for you.

But watch out, because sometimes when God brings the law to your heart, you find that you also are pushed to change your own views, to let go of some of your actions, some of your thoughts and desires so that you can love how God invites you to love.

And I wonder, beloved of God, were you to place God's gracious law alongside of you own life, where would you find mercy? I wonder, beloved of God, were you to place God's gracious law alongside of your own life,, where would you be called to change?

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
who to thy tribes on Sinai's height
in ancient times once gave the law
in cloud and majesty and awe.

O Wisdom... come

[This post is first in a series of Advent meditations, exploring the "O Antiphon" for each day as we walk the final steps toward the celebration of the incarnation on the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord.]

Come, 
Wisdom, 
of our God Most High, 
guiding creation with power and love: 
teach us to walk 
in the paths of knowledge.

It's so very difficult to know the right way to go sometimes. You are faced with several paths, some clear and some murky, and you don't know which one God is inviting you to walk down.

"O Wisdom"
Sister Ansgar Holmberg, CSJ

I remember sitting in the 8:00am Rite I service at the Church of the Heavenly Rest several years ago now. I had long ago ceased to feel "at home" in the Churches of Christ I was raised in and had started sneaking into the early service at the big stone church in Abilene.

I remember Father Scott preaching that day, clear as though it was yesterday. And like a bolt of light, something pierced my heart. I heard a voice whisper—if you want this to be home, it can be. If you want to serve me in ministry, you could do it here.

Immediately I was pulled out of paying attention as my mind began wresting with this idea. I don't think I had ever before seriously considered that I could choose to make my home in another tradition. I had thought about, for years I had thought about it, but I had never actually seen that path appear. It was more of some mystical dream I did not take seriously.

But as Father Scott preached in his soft West Texas accent, I realized that a path had indeed opened that I had never seen. All of the sudden, I looked down and realized that the Wisdom of God had been inviting me here, calling me down this path for years. And though I hadn't recognized the voice, I had been walking the path.

"This can be your home. You can serve me here."

One of my favorite prayers in the BCP is the one for guidance that says, in part, "in the midst of our doubts and uncertainties, give us grace to do what you would have us to do, that the Spirit of wisdom may save us from all false choices..."

I had not realized the actual choices that did lie in front of me until the Wisdom of God pushed into my heart that morning and showed me the reality that I had never seen—I could be invited into a new home.

And I have not regretted walking down that path for one moment since.

And I wonder, beloved of God, if you were to still your heart today, what would the wisdom of God open up to you? What choice would become clear that has been murky? What path is there that you have not yet, until this moment, truly seen?

O come, thou Wisdom from on high,

who orderest all things mightily;

to us the path of knowledge show,

and teach us in her ways to go.

New Abortion Law is Immoral and Cruel

My December 14, 2013, article for the Grand Haven Tribune, New Abortion Law is Immoral and Cruel,

On Wednesday afternoon, the Legislature of our state passed a new law on abortion coverage in the Michigan. The new law requires women to buy additional insurance if they want abortion coverage in their health insurance plans, and it will take affect 90 days after the Legislature adjourns for the year. 

Though Gov. Rick Snyder has previously vetoed a bill with similar provisions, this initiative was brought before the Legislature by a Right to Life petition that garnered 315,477 signatures —around 4 percent of our state’s voters. 

And, as a priest, I feel compelled to say that this bill is immoral and cruel.

Read more at the Tribune's website here.

The Room Collapses

And let us be assured
that it is not in saying a great deal that we shall be heard (Matt 6:7),
but in purity of heart and in tears of compunction.
Our prayer, therefore, ought to be short and pure,
unless it happens to be prolonged
by an inspiration of divine grace.
In community, however, let prayer be very short,
and when the Superior gives the signal let all rise together.

~ The Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 20

For several months now, ever since an earnest (and somewhat bold) promise from the pulpit in a sermon, I have been gathering with other people for Morning and Evening Prayer at St. John's from Monday through Thursday. We say Morning Prayer at 8:30am and then Evening Prayer at 5:15pm. 

I had no idea, when I began doing this, if anyone would show up. I just knew that I had an abiding sense of being called to this habit, this discipline, and to begin to practice it publicly. I'm that sort of Christian, the sort that needs accountability, otherwise my grand promises to God tend to slip away...

Most of the time someone does join me. Interestingly, I get others who join me at Evening Prayer slightly more often and in greater numbers than Morning Prayer. Sometimes I need to be elsewhere at those hours and so another parishioner steps in and leads the Office for me. Often that person winds up being our Parish Administrator who has slowly moved into a profound ministry to me in being able to lead the Office in my stead.

So, though it is just me sometimes, most of the time I am praying with others. And I've begun to notice something.

After the three Collects, but before the General Thanksgiving, our custom is to invite "other prayers or thanksgivings, either silently or aloud." I give this invitation and then close my eyes, seeking to be in the presence of God more intently as I whisper my own prayers alongside those of my sisters and brothers.

But as my eyes close, the strangest thing happens.

Do you know how when you close your eyes, you can still sense the presence of other people in a room? You know that person is over there and this other person over here. Well, when I close my eyes for this time of intercession, the room collapses in on me. It is as though the several feet of distance between me and the other worshippers has utterly evaporated and they are now standing nose to nose with me, all of us closer than would ever be natural or comfortable.

The first time this happened I actually opened my eyes, thinking that perhaps someone had moved closer, but everyone was standing in the same place, whispering prayers, breathing quietly, resting in God's presence.

It doesn't happen every time, but it happens more often than not. And every single time it takes my breath away. It is as though the Spirit has inhaled deeply, sucking the space out of the room, knitting our souls together in petition and thanksgiving.

There is this line in the Prayer of St. Chrysostom that we use at the Office whenever more than one person is present, a line that says, "you have promised through your well-beloved Son that when two or three are gathered in his Name you will be in the midst of them." And I wonder, I wonder if sometimes that vacuum that pulls my spirit close to those of others is actually the hand of Jesus, taking our separate souls and braiding them together.

The Office has long been an important part of my life as a Christian, even before I was an Episcopalian I was captivated by it. And for quite a while I've said it on my own, with a brief period of saying it regularly with a colleague I worked with.

But now, as I gather with whatever handful of people God pulled into that old narthex at that moment, I'm reminded of why the Office is, in its fullest expression, said in community.

Because my heart's desires, my soul's anxieties, all the joy and pain and searching that accompanies this life is not meant to be mine alone. There is a place, an oasis of worship, into which anyone can come. Twice a day, at 8:30am and 5:15pm, there is a space where heaven sucks the air out of a room and makes evident the One Body through those disparate worshippers.

And though sometimes I cannot breathe... I know that it is in that knitting together my ragged breath, full of prayers, thanksgiving and, at times, begging.... it is in that knitting together that my ragged prayerful breath is enveloped by a Spirit who can interpret what I cannot even begin to express.

It is in the body of those gathered that I find the divine always present.

Your True Worth: On Cowardice and Bravery in the Church

One of my parishioners received a long four-page letter from his brother, a Roman Catholic, condemning his decision to get married to his partner. I wrote the following letter to my parishioner when he forwarded the letter on to me. 

With his permission, I'm reposting the letter here, knowing that what my parishioner is going through is not abnormal in our world and in the church. I have removed their names, but the rest of the letter remains as it was written. The bulk of the letter is responding to the various arguments his brother threw at him. I am not, of course, posting his brother's letter, but given what I say, you can probably get the gist of what he was told. My letter may be a bit disjointed in argument, but that is because I was trying to respond point by point to his brother's argument.

Know this above all else whoever you are and wherever you come from: you are immensely beloved of God and a decision to enter a covenanted relationship with a parter, whether the same gender or the opposite gender, is always a brave and courageous decision to give yourself. It is all the more brave when your blood family rejects you because of it. 

Dear _____,

This is a heavy letter and we can absolutely talk about it on Thursday. Let me just give some of my responses to the points he makes. Know, above all, that I support you and your partner and believe what you are choosing is indeed God's calling for your life. I applaud your courage and integrity.

Brothers and Men / Homosexuality in Today's Culture
Both men and women are indeed sexual beings. However, I fundamentally disagree with your brother that the ending point of sexuality must always be procreation. If he believes that, then he would also have to affirm the other tenets of that position: (1) any form of conception is immoral and (2) couples that are infertile should not have sex. I doubt he holds those beliefs. As our Prayer Book says, the union of two people "in heart, body, and mind is intended by God for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity; and, when it is God’s will, for the procreation of children and their nurture in the knowledge and love of the Lord." Procreation of children can be a part of a sexual union, but few heterosexual people place that absolute requirement on opposite-sex relationships—a tremendous hypocrisy.

Furthermore, repeated studies have shown there are no adverse affects of same-sex couples adopting and raising children. That is a choice some infertile opposite-sex couples make and is a wonderful choice for a same-sex couple as well. Indeed, studies show that children thrive in two parent households—without regard to them being same or opposite-sex. At the same time, having children is not a requirement of opposite-sex relationships and it is remarkably unfair to say it is so essential to sexual intimacy that without the possibility of procreation a couple should not be together, be they opposite-sex or same-sex.

Also, on the science claims, it's also very clear scientifically that a small percentage of several animal species have same-sex relationships. It's not chosen, it's simply a physical reality. Humanity will not come to an end because this is only a minority of the species in any species. To say that it is "unnatural" shows a complete disregard for what we actually know about nature.

And here is where I really disagree with him: the choice to be in a covenanted relationship with your partner is not a selfish choice. It is choosing to take responsibility for another human being, to covenant yourself to him. Promiscuity with no commitment is the selfish "all dessert and no dinner" choice so common in our culture. Any couple that chooses to covenant, that chooses responsibility to be a part of sexual intimacy is a couple that is choosing the self-giving, responsible path. Your choice to covenant your life with your beloved is a choice that affirms him, one in which you will promise to support him, one in which you will affirm a willingness to lay down your life for him. And just like any opposite-sex couple that makes that choice, this self-giving act is expressed in sexual intimacy. And that is beautiful.

Also, it is hugely disingenous for any Christian to tell another Christian they have to be celibate for their entire life. As a whole, Protestant Christianity since the Reformation has resisted forcing celibacy upon a class of people. That is why we do not require celibacy for priests in our tradition. Some people are indeed called to a celibate life, but the church traditionally understands that as a charism of the Holy Spirit discerned in community. It is never enforced upon a class of people (i.e., priests or homosexual persons). For a heterosexual Christian, who because of his attraction is free to choose to find a mate and be married to tell a homosexual Christian to "man up and take your cross" is, forgive the language, utter bullshit.

And the idea that two adults choosing to commit to one another in a life-long commitment is the same thing as bestiality is so foolish I will not even honor it with a response.

The question is what will be the calling of the church to gay and lesbian people? Will we tell them they have to be celibate, even though we do not require that of any other class of people? Will we tell them to change, even though science has shown how immensely harmful that is? No, we will invite them into faithful, covenanted, relationships, knowing that the power of sexual intimacy for healing our souls is most fully experienced in a covenanted relationship with another person. And inviting people to do that, to get married, in a culture like ours that often despises commitment, is profoundly counter-cultural. That invitation into covenanted relationship is the one the church should issue boldly and proudly.

The Church's Position and Your Family
First off, I would encourage your brother to dig deeper. In particular, I would commend to him Scripture and Discernment: Decision Making in the Church by Luke Timothy Johnson. Johnson is a professor of New Testament at Candler School of Theology at Emory and is one of the most well-respected biblical scholars in North America. He is also an active Roman Catholic and a former Benedictine monk. In Scripture and Discernment he not only criticizes the traditional interpretation offered by your brother, he also offers a different approach to interpreting Scripture more faithfully, one that served as the basis for the Episcopal Church's articulation of why we fully affirm gay and lesbian Christians in our church, as we described that in To Set Our Hope on Christ.

The Scriptural argument is nowhere near as clear or persuasive as he argues it is. His entire argument is based on six—six—passages of Scripture. The argument has nothing to do with understanding the historical context of those texts—or even paying attention to how Scripture itself interprets them. The most glaring example is that in the question of the sin of Sodom. Ezekiel 16 says clearly that it was excessive food and indifference to the needy. Isaiah 1 says it was injustice, and urges those who would learn from Sodom to "learn to do good, seek justice, and rescue the oppressed." It's only in modern times that people thought the story was about homosexuality. And, to be clear, Sodom and Gomorrah is a story about proposed gang rape. To say it condemns faithful, committed, monogamous relationships is ridiculous. I've preached twice on this specific question (The Sin of Sodom in 2010 and Worthless Worship in 2013).

If he wants to look more closely at those six tiny passages of Scripture—six passages that are wildly and poorly interpreted by people with his view—I'd commend the following short essay on the Bible and Homosexuality. And if he wants to know just how angry it makes some of us clergy to watch the Bible manhandled into a tool for hate and discrimination, something that has led to untold suffering and countless suicides, then I'd encourage him to read this essay and know that, like the author, for me this is not simply an intellectual question.

I hold a Bachelor of Science in Biblical Studies with a minor in Biblical Languages, summa cum laude. I hold a Master of Divinity received with Academic Honors and straight A's. I hold a Master of Sacred Theology that resulted in a book published by a peer reviewed academic press. I will argue Scripture with him on this any day of the week and twice on those days when a gay or lesbian person sits in my office crying because of the horrible things people in the church have said to them.

Indeed, even the current Pope has some strong words for those who seem so focused on the question of homosexuality...

And your choice to oppose the Catholic Church and her teaching on this matter is not, as your brother says, an act of cowardice. It is an act of immense bravery to stand up to that venerable institution and say "I am not who you say I am. I am a beloved child of God, worthy of the grace present in covenanted sexual relationship with another person." It is an act of immense bravery to stand up and refuse to let that church tell you how disordered you are.

And your presence in the Episcopal Church, the sacraments you receive here, the challenge you hopefully receive here to be a better person, to more fully conform yourself after the mind of Christ, I hope that it is a gift to you. Because you presence here and your partner's presence here is an immense gift to us. You don't need to be welcomed by the Church. We need to be welcomed by you and forgiven for a history of cruelty and selfishness in our treatment of gay and lesbian Christians.

Your brother is right that the incarnation of Christ, that his Real Presence in the sacramental bread and wine are profoundly powerful realities. However, he seems to miss the fact that part of the importance of the sacraments is that they teach us the way that matter can be an avenue of God's grace. The grace of marriage is experienced in a particular way in the marriage bed, as former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams says in The Body's Grace, in one body's delight in another, a delight that requires covenanted relationship to be healing and not harming. Indeed, as Williams says in that same article, it is tragic that this focus on homosexuality has made so many blind to the very real perversions and dangers that can happen in heterosexual relationships.

Finally, though your brother hurtfully and cruelly says he sees such wickedness in you, that "all of this has left a bad taste in my mouth," know this: I see Christ in you. I see Christ in your partner. And I see Christ's self-giving love for the church in your willingness to commit your life to your beloved, particularly in the face of such un-Christian abuse from your family.

You inspire me.

Through Grace,
Jared+