Monthly Archives: November 2013

Monday Matters (November 25th, 2013)

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MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, November 25, 2013

A gallant faith

In this week dedicated to an attitude of gratitude, I’ve been thinking about the word eucharist, which in the Greek means thanksgiving. I recalled the different contexts in which I’ve presided at services of Holy Eucharist. Sometimes only a few folks, two or three gathered in Christ’s name. Sometimes hundreds. Some informal, others not so much. One liturgy that meant a lot to me, one for which I am deeply grateful, was a service I often led years ago at a nursing home, held on Wednesday afternoons. We met in a small activity room, not a chapel. Neon overhead lights. No candles. Well worn xeroxed orders of service. Bingo or bridge going on in the next room. Standard hymns we thought were widely known. “Amazing Grace” sung every time we met, though mostly it was an a cappella solo by the officiant (me) which was probably not the most edifying offering for those present. There were readings from scripture, which always included Psalm 23. And a brilliant homily, though I was never sure how my deep theological insights were received in this congregation where many battled dementia, and where others slept through the service.  Snoring was not uncommon.

Here’s what stands out for me about that service: We always concluded with a prayer, printed in those dog-eared leaflets, which years later I found in the Book of Common Prayer. It goes like this:

This is another day, O Lord.  I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be.  If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely.  If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly.  If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently.  And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly. Make these words more than words, and give me the Spirit of Jesus.  Amen.

I’ve said the prayer in other contexts, but in that setting, it really got to me. With most of the congregation either in wheelchairs or wheeled into the worship space on hospital beds, the call to faithfulness and gratitude in all of life’s circumstances was powerful and poignant. I found myself particularly focused on the phrase about being gallant in doing nothing. I was younger then, with little pastoral connection to folks nearing the end of life. I came to appreciate, to admire, to marvel at the courage of these worshippers. Many seemed to contend with some form of confinement. I sometimes thought of it as imprisonment. Most of my ministry up to that point had been with children and youth, invincible, immortal, mobile, lively. These older congregants, even those who could not speak, who could not remember me from one day to the next, became my teachers about living gallantly. When we prayed to be given the spirit of Jesus, I carried that aspiration with me from that place, into the world, at least for a little while. Isn’t that what worship is supposed to do?

This week, beginning with this day, November 25, 2013, is a gift you have been given. It will not be given again. How will you use it, this one time opportunity? You don’t know what it will bring. Neither do I. All we can do is to ask to be made ready for the day. Whether today we stand, sit, lie low, or do nothing, we ask to be brave, to savor the quiet, to exhibit patience, to do all of it gallantly. What would it mean to be a gallant Christian today? To live in the spirit of Jesus? To do so with grateful hearts, which would be a wonderful way to observe Thanksgiving.

-Jay Sidebotham

104

Jay SidebothamContact:

Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org

 

Monday Matters (November 18th, 2013)

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MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, November 18, 2013

Yesterday’s collect

I did not come to the Episcopal Church until I was in my 20’s. I was drawn by artful and inquiring preaching, but also by the beauty of the prayers, the music, and, at the church I attended in New York, the architecture. Each of those elements spoke to me of grace, as I experienced the power of the psalmist’s call to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.

But there was a lot that was perplexing. Case in point: Near the beginning of the service, I saw in the bulletin that there would be a collect of the day. Scanning quickly down the lineup of events, and mindful of cash (or lack thereof) in my young adult wallet, I noted the offertory as well. Collect and offertory? Do they pass the plate twice?  Can I afford this?

I came to know that the collect was about prayer, not revenue enhancement. I came to pay attention to the collects. In our tradition, we say that prayer shapes believing. These prayers, polished over the centuries in the stream of the communion of saints, teach us tons about what we believe. That is especially true of the distinctive collect read yesterday in church, read around this time each year, printed in the side column.

It’s notable because it focuses on scripture, and calls us to spiritual growth, as we take successive steps in our engagement with scripture. I often say that if you want to know what a liturgy is about, look at the verbs in the prayers. As this collect calls us to scripture, note the verbs, which indicate deeper and deeper engagement. 

We hear. We put ourselves within earshot of scripture. It connotes nothing more or less than openness. We don’t shut it out. It’s at least worth attention. Pretty low level of commitment, but a first step

We read. We see what it says. One priest I know says we not only read scripture. We let it read us. At this stage in the collect, we simply crank up the attention we pay to scripture. Maybe we even make it a point to do so as some kind of daily habit or spiritual practice.

We mark. We try to notice something important, some intersection with our experience, something that leaps out at us, maybe something that irritates us.

We learn. That’s what disciples are. Learners. We begin to apply it to our lives. We let it teach us stuff we didn’t know before, adopting that stance of humility that admits we don’t know everything, and we don’t know what we don’t know. As a result, we are different because of scripture.

We inwardly digest. Scripture becomes part of us. It is incorporated in who we are.

And, oh by the way, why do we do all this? Why do we engage with these ancient texts? The collect says that it is for the sake of experiencing hope. And come on, who could not benefit from a bit more hope?

As you think about your own spiritual journey, are you looking for a way to go deeper? The promise of this prayer, the experience of Christians of all kinds of persuasion, is that engagement with scripture will transform us, as Martin Luther suggested. You don’t have to like everything you read. You might want to read a passage and write down your reactions, insights, questions, things that warm your heart, things that make you mad. But it’s something we are each called to do. As one pastor said to his congregation: “I can’t read the Bible for you.” We each have the opportunity, the responsibility, the challenge, the grace of encountering God in scripture. What steps can you take to go deeper in that encounter, maybe starting this Monday morning.

-Jay Sidebotham

104

Jay SidebothamContact:

Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org

Monday Matters (November 11th, 2013)

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MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, November 11, 2013

For Jonah, it was a great fish. For Balaam, it was a donkey. For St. Martin, it was a goose. Read on.

I began ordained ministry at St. Martin’s in Providence, Rhode Island, a church filled with talented artists and graphic designers and mad men (advertising types), graduates of Rhode Island School of Design who never left that interesting city. One of these graduates offered his ministry to the church, providing the parish with distinctive branding, rendering images of a goose, the symbol of St. Martin. Why a goose?

Martin, a saint from the 4th century was first a soldier, then a priest, then elected bishop. Like many wise folks who get elected bishop, when Martin heard the news of the vote, he ran away as fast as possible. Legend has it he hid in a barn, hoping the electorate would not find him. His presence was given away by the honking of the geese. Their noise trumped Martin’s reticence, and he was called, if not compelled, to distinctive service in the church, remembered over the centuries.

Those honking geese represent the truth about God’s call to us. When people hear the call of God, throughout the Bible, throughout church history, in their lives today, the reaction often sounds something like this: “The call is a wrong number.” “I’m not the person for the job.” “God’s recruiting skills have finally faltered.” “May I suggest someone else?” Has that ever been your reaction? Come on, fess up.

Martin is not the only bishop who took the job reluctantly. The history of the church is marked by people who wished someone else had been called, who do not feel up to the task. However, when it comes to call, the truth of the matter seems to be that it is not about how qualified we are. God does not call the qualified. God qualifies those who are called. God gives the gifts and resources to do holy work in the world. About all we have to do is echo the words of countless characters in the Bible who, when they hear God’s call, answer with some version of these three words: Here am I. And then, of course, be ready to be of service.

Speaking of service, it’s fitting that St. Martin’s feast day coincides with Veteran’s Day. (I invite you to pray the prayer for heroic service which you’ll find in the left hand column.) Martin is remembered for a story that took place while he was a soldier in the Roman army, deployed in Gaul. One day, as Martin approached the city of Amiens, he met a scantily clad beggar. Martin sliced his military cloak in half to share with the man. That night, Martin had a dream in which he saw Jesus wearing the half-cloak he had given away. He heard Jesus say to the angels: “Here is Martin, the Roman soldier who is not baptized; he has clad me.” For that reason, the gospel read on Martin’s feast day (again, take a gander at the side column) speaks about how we meet Christ, about how we grow in faith.

Today, this Monday in November, observe the feast of St. Martin, by keeping your eyes open for where you will meet Christ. Answer the call to do Christ’s work in the world. Maybe there’s an act of service you can do for our veterans, maybe nothing more or less than a prayer. God’s call comes to each one of us, whether we feel up to the task or not. The task may be daunting. You may want to run and hide. But in the divine sense of humor, there may well be a goose waiting in that hiding place to bring you back to the work God has for you to do. Or a great fish. Or a donkey. Or a beggar. Or a bishop. Or a brother or sister in Christ. Answer the call today.

-Jay Sidebotham

104

Jay SidebothamContact:

Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org

Monday Matters (November 4th, 2013)

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MONDAY MATTERS
Reflections to start the week
Monday, November 4, 2013

You gotta believe.

No, this is not a column about the Red Sox, but that was exciting, huh?

Earlier this fall, a friend shared a copy of a Wall Street Journal column. Written by Pulitzer Prize winner Henry Allen, the article described how all kinds of institutions in our culture seem to be adrift. Towards the end of the column, almost as an afterthought, he got to the topic of religion, zooming in on mainline denominations. He shared a quote from a young person he interviewed in Missouri when he met with her youth group. She talked about her church and said the following: “Episcopalianism is great. You don’t have to believe anything.”

Being a good Episcopalian, I experienced ambivalence about this quote. Since her quote had little context, I realize she could have meant many things. I wanted to talk with her about what she meant. There’s a part of me that likes what she had to say. Clearly, in her church, she had experienced a sense of welcome and belonging that came without condition (We all believe in unconditional love until we bump up against a condition we deem essential, but that’s a topic for another Monday.)

But even after giving her the benefit of the doubt, her comment is unsettling. Because I believe (There. I said it.) that what we believe matters. In the research that has emerged from the work we’re doing on spiritual growth, one of the key features of congregations that exhibit spiritual vitality is that members of those congregations have a capacity, a facility for describing beliefs and practices that they value, that they hold dear. That doesn’t mean that they impose them on others, use them as litmus test or as a bludgeon. But it does suggest that they can articulate beliefs and that they care about those expressions of faith.

And I believe that’s the key. It’s about what we hold dear. The Latin word for belief (credo) suggests that belief is more a matter of the heart than the head. Diana Butler Bass, in her book Christianity after Religion, says that the word belief really means something like this: “I set my heart upon”, or “I give my loyalty to”. It’s about what we prize, what we treasure. Dr. Bass says that in early English, to believe was really to be-love. For centuries, belief had nothing to do with weighing evidence or intellectual choice. It was not about a doctrinal test. It was more like a marriage vow, a pledge of faithfulness. It was about loving service. Again, it’s about what we treasure, what we love, where we give our heart. In the spiritual journey, we are each given the freedom and responsibility to think about where we give our hearts. To consider what we care about. To live by that. To do so with special reference to our relationship with God known to us in the Trinity: God known to us as creator, source of all life; God entering human history as Jesus, the one we follow; God present with us now as the Holy Spirit, comforting, advocating, guiding, nudging along the spiritual journey. God who asks for nothing more or less than our hearts.

Start this week thinking about where you are giving your heart, what you believe and be love. What does it mean to you to love God? As you think about that, do so knowing that before you figure any of it out (a life journey), you are held in love from which you can never be separated. Said another way, God believes in you.  I love that. I give my heart to that. I believe that.

-Jay Sidebotham

104

Jay SidebothamContact:

Rev. Jay Sidebotham
jsidebotham@renewalworks.org
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement.
www.renewalworks.org
www.forwardmovement.org