Rejoice now, heavenly hosts and choirs of angels,
and let your trumpets shout Salvation
for the victory of our mighty King.

Rjoice and sing now, all the round earth,
bright with a glorious splendor,
for darkness has been vanquished by our eternal King.

Rejoice and be glad now, Mother Church,
and let your holy courts, in radiant light,
resound with the praises of your people.

All you who stand near this marvelous and holy flame,
pray with me to God the Almighty,
for the grace to sing the worthy priase of this great light;
through Jesus Christ his Son our Lord,
who lives and reigns with him,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.   Amen.

…It is truly right and good, always and everywhere, with our
whole heart and mind and voice, to praise you, the invisible,
almighty, and eternal God, and your only-begotten Son,
Jesus Christ our Lord; for he is the true Paschal Lamb, who
at the feast of the Passover paid for us the debt of Adam’s sin
and by his blood delivered your faithful people.

This is the night, when you brought our fathers, the children
of Israel, out of bondage in Egypt and led them through the
Red Sea on dry land.

This is the night, when all who believe in Christ are delivered
from the gloom of sin, and are restored to grace and holiness of life.

This is the night, when Christ broke the bonds of death and hell,
and rose victorious from the grave.

How wonderful and beyond our knowing, O God, is your
mercy and loving-kindness to us, that to redeem a slave, you
gave a Son.

How holy is this night, when wickedness is put to flight, and
sin is washed away.  It restores innocence to the fallen and joy
to those who mourn.  It casts out pride and hatred, and brings
peace and concord.

How blessed is this night, when earth and heaven are joined
and man is reconciled to God…

May Christ, the Morning Star who knows no setting find this flame
ever burning — he who gives his light to all creation, and who lives
and reigns for ever and ever.  Amen

Happy Easter!

When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.  At three o’clock, Jesus cried out with a loud voice “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabacthani?” which means “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me?”   When some of the bystanders heard it they said, “Listen, he is calling for Elijah.”  And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down.”  Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last.  And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom.  Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said,
“Truly this was God’s Son.”   Mark 15:33-39

And so, there you have it.  A Good Friday miracle.  We hear all the time about the miracle of Easter itself, and about all the other miracles that Jesus himself performed or that the disciples did in his name after his death and resurrection.  But perhaps this Good Friday miracle is the most powerful of all, and made powerful by it’s very obscurity > I am indebted to Heidi, the pastor of Trinity Lutheran Church in NYC for bringing it to my attention.

Here is a miracle of the change of one’s heart.  Centurions were known for being eminently practical, for being bound by duty to carry out the most heinous of tasks (capital punishment by crucifixion being one of the worst), and for taking that duty in stride.  It was one of the highest honors in the Roman army, to be made a centurion.  And one of these hard core, dyed-in-the-wool, by-the-book soldiers was in charge of Jesus’ execution.  He saw them every day > indeed, this day he crucified two others at the same time.  None other was remarkable, only the death of this one man, Jesus of Nazareth, affected him, and the effect on him was incredible.

In the face of the man he had crucified as a common criminal the centurion, who had stood opposite Jesus during the entire ordeal, was able to see something so much more than a man dying on a cross.  He saw in the agonized face of a humble carpenter the face of God’s Son.  He saw the righteousness of Jesus and recognized his true Power.  His heart was persuaded.

You know how hard it is to change someone’s mind about something when they have it made up.  Even more so when the position they have adopted has the full force of government sanction behind it.  And yet, something in this humble, broken man on a cross caused the centurion to see truly what was happening > he was able to recognize that God’s Son had willingly given himself and his life to be broken and poured out for the world.

Against all training, against all conventions, against all odds and probabilities, the centurion was able to see the truth about the world for that moment.  He would never be the same again, and that is truly a Good Friday miracle.

           rikkifen

you have stolen the sleep from my eyes
and so i lie awake and listen
to the soft sounds of sleep
    from birds and cat
and the house as it settles and creaks

there was the miracle of your voice today
-i do not know what to do with that-
your words run through my head
    an erotic teleprompter of sorrow, lust, and longing

the tsunami of our love is rushing in
sweeping us towards the rocks of decision
    it does not get more urgent than this
                     more immediate
                     more real

avoiding the question doesn’t avoid the answer

you have stolen the sleep from my eyes
and my heart from my chest…

 happy st. patrick’s day!  since i’m irish, and since there was no ‘protestant/roman catholic’ separation back in patrick’s day, i celebrate the holiday by being mindful of the way my heritage has shaped me >  my poetry, my music, my flights of fantasy, and my spirituality all come from my celtic (and particularly my irish) roots.  for a long time my gran hid the fact that we were as much irish as english from us, for she felt ashamed of being irish! imagine that!  how horridly sad to be ashamed of your own lineage, especially one as rich as that… we are of the hughes clan from donegal…

we are on break from school, which will end tomorrow > monday it’s back to the grind!  i don’t see how it’s break, however, since i have a midterm to write, a midterm to study for, a paper that is past due, and 10 proverbs to memorize…

i had thought that i was done with all of the judgement that accompanies performance reviews in the secular world… i hated them so so so much, since they usually seemed more a way to justify denying you a raise than giving you one.  at the beginning of my tenure (at any of the jobs i held) my performance was always judged to be ‘exemplary’, with corresponding pay raises etc.  after a while, however, it seemed that i would hit the top of the scale they wanted to pay for my position, but instead of telling me that, they would say that i failed to perform adequately in some relatively minor (and usually indisputable) fashion, and hold my salary constant for a year or more.

now, this past tuesday, i had my Middler Evaluation, which is a gigantic milestone in our Process.  it involves meeting with your academic advisor and answering questions about your spiritual maturity, your personal piety, your demonstrated (not just professed) commitment to peace and social justice, your ability to lead worship, your leadership potential (as demonstrated by your interactions with peers), your academic ability, your ability to keep to deadlines, plus your ability to integrate all of this into your life.  once your advisor draws up your report, (s)he then submits it for ratification at a faculty meeting and everyone has a go at it.  then what they decide on goes back to your diocese.  this can have a profound effect on your candidacy, which is the next designation in our ordination track.

right now i am a postulant.  i have my candidacy interviews in mid-May, and part of those interviews will be based on what is said during my middler eval.  so this is more important than a performance review since that would be just my pay > this is for my even being allowed to continue towards ordination.

i think it went well.  but how do you prove your commitment to peace and social justice?  you could join ten million groups but that could be just for show… so what i pointed to was this blog, and how we talk about inclusion and fairness and justice on here…

but it was weird to have my advisor log on to read this…

if you value online/internet radio, my favorite site being www.radioparadise.com , please visit http://www.saveourinternetradio.com/ and read the post…  frustrating and annoying is not strong enough…

it seems my last post raised alot of the same questions we in the Episcopal Church are asking the archbishops of the ‘global south’ > why use labels such as ‘conservative’ or ‘liberal’ , essentially political terms, to define Christians?  why make statements about who is fit or not fit to come to the Lord’s table?  did not Jesus himself eat with notorious sinners in order that his love for all might show a better way, a way of forgiveness, reconciliation, and healing? why is it that sexual trangressions get all the press when economic/financial sins are named in the same ‘vice lists’ and actually outnumber the sexual sins?  do you ever hear anyone say “you can’t come and receive communion or be part of our church until you stop cheating on your taxes or scamming the government”? 

if you pay your employees less than a living wage, less than a fair wage, while you yourself take home large profits, is this not greed? one of the seven deadly sins? 

it seems to me that we should all keep in mind the adage to forget the mote in our fellow Christian’s eye and worry about the giant pole in our own….

it seems that there is a definite difference between the peace that the world offers and the peace that is offered by God, what i would term as shalom.  in his work the city of God, Augustine talks about two paradigmatic cities > the city of God, and the city of humanity.  what differentiates them is the quality of the love that unites them as a common good.  the love of the city of humanity is united by the peace that is defined more as the détente that exists as the result of a cessation of hostilities rather than the presence of the peace of God.  it is the love within the city of God that is united by the shalom of God that means so much more than the absence of hostility, but also encompasses the presence of reconciliation and proper relationship, of prosperity and generosity, of steadfast love and of slowness to anger…

within these two cities, the εκκλεσια (or gathered assembly) is meant to embody the love and peace that exists in the kingdom of God. this εκκλεσια represents unity in diversity, since its members are drawn out of all nations and peoples, bound by love of God and love in God.  the church at its best gives a sense of true love, true politics (love of city), true ethics in the world > a kind of witness, a general reflection…

where we see brokenness is the visible invitation of God to envision wholeness, to see what the next step is to be > the church is the source of intelligibility for morality and ethics in this world…

so, what is the invitation when 7 anglican primates refuse to share communion with 31 others, because one is a woman and they don’t like her gender or her liberal view of God’s love and saving grace? what is the invitation when people persist in using God’s banquet table as a means of exclusion instead of inclusion? the only reason you could legitimately refuse Eucharist is if you were not “in love and charity with your neighbor” and did not “intend to lead a new life, following the commandments of God”…  this says more about the state of the hearts (unreconciled) of the abstaining archbishops than it does about any of the others…

but…how are we, as church, to witness to the world at large of the saving and reconciling love of God in Jesus Christ when even the leaders of the international anglican communion have trouble demonstrating that love?

2 Cor. 5:20b-6:10

Matt 6:1-6, 16-21

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, that season of penitence and preparation leading into the acts of Holy Week, culminating in Easter and the Feast of our Lord’s Resurrection from the dead.  Everyone knows that any big occasion requires much preparation and forethought.  Whether it’s Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Easter, there’s always a lot to do – food to prepare, cleaning to be done, perhaps the home needs to be decorated.  The Church realized this about the great Feasts of Christmas and Easter, and instituted the penitential seasons of Advent and Lent to precede them.  This gives us the space to prepare our hearts, clean our spiritual homes, and even get ready to deck our souls with gladness. 

As a child, I always wondered about the great seasons of Advent and Lent.  Advent was pretty easy to understand due to its name “Advent”, since I knew advent meant an arrival.  Lent was not so easy to figure out.  The Book of Common Prayer of the Episcopal Church helped me there, with this exhortation for Ash Wednesday:

            Dear People of God: The first Christians observed with great devotion

            the days of our Lord’s passion and resurrection, and it became the custom

            of the Church to prepare for them by a season of penitence and fasting. 

            This season of Lent provided a time in which converts to the faith were

            prepared for Holy Baptism.  It was also a time when those who, because

            of notorious sins, had been separated from the body of the faithful were

            reconciled by penitence and forgiveness, and restored to the fellowship of

            the Church.  Thereby, the whole congregations was put in mind of the

            message of pardon and absolution set forth in the Gospel of our Saviour,

            and of the need which all Christians have to renew their repentance and faith.

The practice of putting ashes on the forehead of clergy and congregation became a sign and symbol of the mourning and penitence for sinfulness, echoing ancient practices found in the Bible.  Surely you recall the stories of people wearing sackcloth and putting ashes on their heads to show their sorrow? This became a modern-day equivalent.

Now, growing up as an Episcopalian in the 1960s, getting ashes on Ash Wednesday wasn’t part of my family or church tradition.  My Roman Catholic friends would come to school with smudges on their faces, and we Protestants would gather round them and ask about what seemed to us a bizarre practice.  “It’s to remind us that one day we’ll die,” they told us.  To a six year old that doesn’t mean anything – death has little reality.  So I never thought about getting ashes until I was in college.  Then I wanted to know, and perhaps some of you do too, why do we continue this practice of penitence to begin the Lenten season?

In that portion of his second letter to the Corinthians appointed for this day, Paul writes, “We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.  For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.  As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain.  For he says, ‘At an acceptable time I have listened to you, and on a day of salvation I have helped you.’  See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!”

Already we have been saved, but not yet has it been realized.  The call is to be reconciled to God, to accept that salvation has come in the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ.  How can we realize that salvation?  accept that call?  One way is by admitting  our sinful natures, the willfulness that draws us away from right decision and right action and down the pathway of error.  We examine our hearts and our lives, to see where we might have gone astray from following in the footsteps of Jesus.  And because we are called to salvation as a people, for God did not call individual Israelites out of Egypt but the whole nation… Because we are called to salvation within a community of faith, it is only fitting that we answer the call to reconciliation with God and acceptance of that salvation as a community.  This service on Ash Wednesday gives us that chance, to bear witness to the realization that we are a sinful people, to show willingness to work to change our behavior, to repent and return to the Lord. We receive ashes on our foreheads in token of this desire.  The ashes are an outward reminder of our inward commitment.

But it doesn’t end with Ash Wednesday.  The call should resonate in our hearts and minds throughout the entire season of Lent.  Paul continues in his letter to remind the Corinthians that great endurance is required if we are to persevere. He also tells us how we’re able to persevere, namely, “by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God.”  We not alone in this endeavor since we have our sisters and brothers in Christ, but it is by the power of God that these things will come to pass.  God is with us.

And so we mark our foreheads with ashes at the beginning of this endurance race of Lent, empowered by God and knowing we will be doing righteous things as we prepare for Easter, fasting and praying and increasing our religious devotions and charitable giving.

But… but… what do the words of our Gospel say about all of this?  “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.  So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you , as the hypocrites do…  Truly I tell you, they have received their reward… And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others.  Truly I tell you, they have received their reward… And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting.  Truly I tell you, they have received their reward…”

So is our wearing of ashes to put on a show?  That’s the question Jesus would have each of us answer about any and all Lenten observances.  Are we doing them because God has called you into reconciliation, or are we doing them because we want others to notice us as being ‘good’ Christians?  It’s a matter of intent with Jesus.   The practices are good and recommended and commended to us by Jewish custom and by God’s invitation.  It’s a matter of who you want watching your devotions > the people surrounding you or God.  If you want recognition, Jesus says you’ll get that, but you’ll need to be content with that since you won’t get anything else from God.  But if you are aiming to get God’s attention, then you need to do these things without any show or fuss; try to keep a low profile among others, and don’t worry about their reactions to what you do.  Worry about your heart.  Worry about your soul.  Be reconciled to God in the privacy of your relationship with God, and you will receive God’s reward.

Paul tells us in his letter that working for reconciliation and for God will have the exact opposite effect from being noticed by the community as a good Christian.  He writes, “We are treated as imposters, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see – we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.”  The externals are not important, for God knows each persons heart, and as often happens within the kingdom of God, the heart is the opposite of the external appearance.  Reality is flipped on its head.  We will seem to have nothing, but we will possess everything.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be.”

Consider these things, ponder these things, and keep them in your heart, as you walk out into the world to keep a holy Lent.

i am sitting in my fourth-floor walk-up, waiting…. and drinking green tea…

i am waiting for my energy to return since i am recovering from pneumonia, waiting for inspiration to strike for a sermon that i am to preach in class tomorrow in practice for preaching on Ash Wednesday….

but mostly i am waiting for snow.  we are supposed to get some, and the sky is gray and leaden enough… pregnant with promise.  the birds are different today > you can tell they, too, are waiting.  they move about with different purpose, no longer playing or sunning themselves, but eating with concentrated intensity.  the pigeons do not roost above me to launch themselves groundward, preferring to huddle together …elsewhere. 

it seems that much of life is a waiting.  waiting for the perfect job, the perfect opportunity, the perfect lifepartner… the perfect day, the perfect life… waiting for snow…

i like how it covers things, glazes things over with perfect whiteness.  things glisten in snow, even the dingy streets of new york city appear magical, especially with nightfalls of snow, when streetlights cast their glamor over the transformed sidewalks, stoops, roofs…  we race for the chance to make the first footprints, to be the first one to have stepped here ever, or so it seems.  the Close looks brand new in snow, like the rest of the world.  a frozen gift of a second chance.

life is like that > waiting for snow… waiting for that second chance, the chance to change things, do it differently, start brand new… be the first one to make footprints on your new life…

and so i am sitting here, my hands wrapped around a mug of steaming green tea… listening to jazz, dreaming a little…

waiting for snow…

if i wrap my arms around myself
perhaps
i will not fly into pieces,
shattered by the coldness of your heart

if i don’t look in the mirror
perhaps
i will not see the age of me,
the shadow in my eyes,
the lines on face and neck

if i put away my stilettos and heels,
long boots and short skirts,
perhaps
i will wear the image you want to see

perhaps…